This is the final installment of "volume 1" of this tickle-saga. My patron, whose generosity continues, has commissioned a continuation of this narrative universe beyond the Katie Jones story into a larger spy-world, so look for those installments soon.
Here are the earlier parts so that you can get the whole story. (There are a bunch of characters.)
Andromeda 1: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...11#post4785111
Andromeda 2: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...67#post4697967
Andromeda 3: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...92#post4713292
Andromeda 4: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...88#post4741088
Andromeda 5: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...part-5-(fff-f)
Andromeda 6: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...70#post4786670
Andromeda 7: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?350941-Andromeda-part-7-(f-f-fff-f)
As usual, my request to you readers is thus: leave a comment when you finish, and then read someone else's story and leave a comment there!
KI
Andromeda part 8 (f/f, fff/f)
by
Kid Indy
Terror and desire and tickling make a mixed drink that most women don’t even know the taste of. Many wouldn’t even try it if they watched someone mix it in front of them. Katie Jones, senior reporter for Interest magazine, had tasted and gulped and lost herself in that mixture in three states, with a dozen women. Yes, they only seemed to serve this one on ladies’ night.
But nothing she had experienced since she first discovered the dark organization called Andromeda prepared her to see Elizabeth Morton, her athletic body wrapped in a silk nightgown, rise from the chair where three Andromeda girls had just restrained her wrists and ankles and brought her to ticklish climax, then remember that her own chair still held her feet in place as the Andromeda agents approached to secure her wrists. Jen Chung’s devilish laughter behind only added to the nightmare that was unfolding: Katie’s ally, the one to whom she had confided her plans to escape this place, to take the information she had gathered and lead federal law enforcement’s crusade against them, Elizabeth Morton was now giving orders to Andromeda agents.
“Elizabeth! What is this? What are you doing?” Her arms would not even move to fight as the Andromeda agents fastened padded leather cuffs around her wrists and ankles.
Elizabeth Morton’s dark eyes drew level with Katie’s as she climbed part of the elevated platform where Katie sat in a bright circle in a vast, dark space. “What am I doing? Ask yourself what you just did, Katie. After everything you and I had been through together, you look me in the eye and give these girls the order to torture me? And then go after me again when they’ve brought me to orgasm?”
“But Maddie Carter…”
“That’s right. Maddie Carter.” Elizabeth gestured for the girls to take positions, one at each of Katie’s feet and the third sitting on a stool overlooking the three women. “Maddie Carter. It’s hard to see someone threatened like that, isn’t it? To know that someone so young is going to go through things that you didn’t even know about until you were past forty? But oh, Katie, the resolve that was on your face when you told the girls to torture me instead!” Morton threw back her head and laughed. “I could just eat you up right now!” She turned to Chung. “And making her give the order three times? Somebody’s been to Sunday School!”
The puzzle pieces were spinning too quickly; Katie couldn’t keep up. “Wait, you heard me?”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Katie, I’ve seen and heard every moment I wanted to ever since you got here.” She climbed another step so that she stood just beside Abby, who sat ready to go to work on Katie’s left foot. “And when we came to the moment when we needed you to take a stand, you took your stand, baby!”
Katie shook her head, theories forming and disintegrating as quickly as she could craft them. “Then Andromeda is actually… no, you’re… what–-STOP THAT!” Elizabeth’s fingers were bicycling in front of Katie’s sole, her fingertips lightly tickling her skin. “Stop! What is this place? Stop that!” Katie heard herself start giggling as Elizabeth’s fingers continued to stroke her sole.
“And now you’re going to try to take a stand again, Katie, but here’s the thing: you know what the right choice is going to be, but you’re going to feel embarrassed to do what’s right.” Katie started to writhe as the fingers that had tickled her affectionately–or so she thought–kept finding her sole, which had nowhere to run. “You’re going to wonder whether you’re just doing what’s right so that you can kiss me again, and tickle my feet again.”
“Stop! Stop doing this to me!”
“And you’re right, honey–if you do what’s right, you can tickle me again, and both of us can tickle Jen here until she’s good and sorry for what she did to you too!”
The fingers kept tickling, and Katie couldn’t stave off the sensations as she tried to solve Morton’s riddle. Her bottom started to bounce on the seat. “Stop! Just stop! What do you want from me?”
Elizabeth’s fingers still hadn’t stopped. “Oh, Katie, you know that’s not how these sessions work! We’re going to have some laughs together first. Then we can talk about what we want… and what you want!” Morton’s fingers lifted away from Katie’s fingers, and as Katie panted, Morton kissed her own dark knuckles. “Mei! Abby! Jessica! Let’s see how ticklish Katie is now that she’s directed my tickling!”
Abby crouched forward, and Mei gently wrapped Katie’s heel in her fingers. Jessica looked on from the spotter’s stool. Katie Jones had been in this position a dozen times and more, yet her fluttering tummy told her this one was going to be worse than the ones before.
Morton took a step back so that she was behind Jessica. “Get her laughing, girls.”
Katie’s lust having Elizabeth at her disposal and the fear that attended the reversal had the reporter’s nerves drawn tighter than the strings of a violin, and Abby and Mei were among the most ruthless and skilled ticklers in the world. Katie pushed her head backwards against the chair’s head-rest, and her laughter spilled out of her fast and steady. Her memory always convinced her that she knew what to expect, and the skin on her feet always outran what she thought she remembered. This time was no different: Abby’s fingernails scratched at the skin between Katie’s toes, and Katie’s flexing feet could not keep them from finding nerve after nerve with sweep after sweep. At the same time Mei pinched at her instep, each one out of rhythm with Abby’s regular attacks and every one making her hips want to squirm. Katie’s mind surrendered to the sensations: even before they started tickling she had no idea what Morton wanted, no idea what Jen Chung had to do with anything, no sense of how she could get out of this and get back to Washington and expose all of this. Now, with these skilled fingers on her skin, she had no plea. She had no threat. She had nothing but the laughter that the air seemed to pull out of her body.
Katie’s hands gripped the armrests, then extended fingers into the cool air, as Mei continued to pinch at the skin between her toes and her heel, moving up and down the inside edge of her foot. She felt Abby’s fingernails turn loose, and she clinched her eyes shut, knowing that Jessica was about to start pinching her other instep, doubling the tickling. When her fingers first closed, Katie once again knew, in ways that most women would never know, that anticipating the work of a skilled tickler and withstanding that work could not be further from each other as the seconds rolled into moments. Jessica pinched and teased as Mei switched from a pinching motion to the fluttering motion of a piano player, and once again Katie felt her mind dissipating, becoming one with the air, as the ticklish skin of her feet became the center of her universe.
Jessica started scratching at Katie’s heel, and she giggled a bubbling song that wound its way through air and into her own ears. Mei’s hands departed, and Katie tried to resign herself to what was coming next. But resignation was no armor either, and when Abby started scratching at her other heel, Katie’s knees bounced up and down, kicking the laughing air as those expert hands turned her muscles to jelly and the whole of her skin into a giant receiver for tickling touches. Jessica’s fingernails zig-zagged up Katie’s sole, and she squealed as the sensations shifted flavor. That foot came under those direction-switching attacks for a span that seemed endless as Abby continued to focus on Katie’s heel.
And somewhere in mental space, Katie’s mind tumbled in an utter void: with no idea of what Elizabeth Morton or these cruel Andromeda girls wanted, the normal questions had no anchor to hold them. Nobody would tell Katie what she could do to make it stop. Nobody told Katie what information she had to surrender. Without a sense of what she had to protect, Katie Jones of Interest magazine had only a single thread to hold onto: when she got out of here, all of these ticklers were going down. She was going to bring her editors Traci Carter and Jen Chung and Elizabeth Morton’s heads on a platter, and nobody else, including Carter’s daughter, would ever go through what she was going through.
The problem with that, of course, was that Katie was entirely at the disposal of Andromeda until they made a mistake and let her escape, and right now, Katie needed an immediate purpose to keep her mind. As she giggled and laughed and moaned at the torment, Mei began to tickle her sole. Had Jessica left? Katie knew that she must have, but until she opened one eye to see Jessica back on the spotter’s stool, she realized that she hadn’t even noticed the departure. But Mei was definitely a change for the worse, and Katie cackled as Mei exploited the jolt that Jessica had exposed.
Without a warning, the tickling stopped, and Katie looked around in vain for a clock so that she could have some sense of what she had endured, how long she had endured it, how long she had left before she had another chance to escape. Elizabeth Morton’s long dark legs approached in powerful strides, and she bent down to talk to Katie face to face. “It never does get any less ticklish, does it?”
Katie’s head did not move as her eyes turned and glared at the woman who, not long before, Katie had come to think of as a real lover.
“You also never stop getting hot when it happens.” Elizabeth Morton reached out with one hand and stroked Katie’s breast through her night-gown. Katie moaned as rage battled with sexual ecstasy. She felt spasms between her legs and knew what must be next.
Then she heard herself speak. “When I get out of here, you’re all going to federal prison forever. You’re not going to win.” The part of Katie’s mind that thought strategically screamed from a place far beyond her body to stop, and whatever remained strapped to that chair kept talking. “I’m going to dedicate the rest of my life to taking you down!”
Morton stroked Katie’s other breast through the silk, and Katie gasped at the intense pleasure of the touch. “Now this is what I’ve been waiting for, Katie! This is the fighter that I’ve been watching all these months!” Morton did not lift her hand but pinched playfully at Katie’s chest. Katie’s agony and ecstasy made her writhe in the chair. “But it’s time to acknowledge what we all know, Katie. Your pride won’t hold out when we get back to what we’ve been doing.”
Katie wanted to strut, wanted to threaten, but instead she heard herself beg. “No. Please.”
“It’s time to think about doing what’s right, Katie.”
“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? STOP TOUCHING ME!”
Elizabeth’s fingers drew slow, sensuous circles around Katie’s nipple. “You know it’s just your pride that’s keeping us enemies. You have a hunch, somewhere below this ticklish, delicious skin, that you’re about to learn something much bigger than your little magazine can handle.”
Kaite thought that she was trying to squirm away from Morton’s fingers, but she found her back arching to get more of those touches, more of the sensation. She groaned out a mixture of disgust with herself and hatred for Andromeda and desire for more. “Please… I need this…”
Morton’s finger traced a line on the silk down towards Katie’s navel. Katie squirmed with the electric sensations. “What you need, Katie, is purpose. Your little magazine gave you a taste of purpose, but now you’re standing at the door of something much bigger.”
“Please…”
Morton’s finger circled Katie’s belly button and started to move towards a hip. “You and I both know, no matter how hard you deny it, that choosing between Maddie Carter and me wasn’t hard for you. Part of it was that you wanted to see my feet tickled, to see me get off the way that Andromeda has gotten you off so many times. But part of you just wanted to do the right thing.”
Morton was tracing a ticklish line across Katie’s panty line. “Yes… the right thing…”
“Good, Katie. Are you ready to do the right thing with us?’
Katie’s head shook from side to side, her eyes desperately trying to see clearly through the fog of sensations and hormones. “No! I’m not going to be part of you!”
Elizabeth Morton’s finger traced a line from the top of Katie’s panties down the center of her body, nearly to her anus. Katie cried out, nearly crossing the line into a climax. “You already are, Katie.”
“No! I’m going to destroy you!”
“That’s your pride talking again, Katie.” The finger went up the middle of Katie’s panties again, then down. “You know there are threats to America out there that are far worse than Andromeda.”
“No…”
Up and down. Katie started to pant. “You know that Homeland Security could get inside of those threats and take them down one by one if we can use Andromeda as a tool.”
Up and down.
“Mama Sam’s cartel bust was just the tip of the iceberg. William Banksman’s funding for right-wing insurgents in Venezuela can translate into international busts like we’ve never seen before.”
Up and down. Katie’s head swam. “Wait! Stop, please! Bill Banksman was funding terrorists?”
Up and down. “That story is going to cost you, Katie. Are you going to do the right thing?”
Up and down. Katie squeaked in pleasure as she tried to navigate. “Yes! You can tickle me! But what was Banksman’s involvement?”
Up and down. “We’re going to tickle you all we want, Katie, but now you’ve got to decide to do the right thing.”
Up and down. Katie’s throat rattled, and she could feel her panties start to stick to her body. Through the haze she heard herself ask, “What’s the right thing?” The finger stopped. Katie panted, knowing how close she had come to the edge.
Morton leaned in and got face to face with Katie again. “Now you’re asking the right question, Katie! But first I have a question for you: why did you pick me to tickle?”
Katie looked away. “What do you want me to say?”
Morton took a side-step and got in front of Katie’s face again. “Why not surrender the kid? For all you knew, torturing me might give up big government secrets. Why not surrender the kid?”
Katie felt as if puppet-strings were pulling on the corners of her mouth. “Because it wasn’t the right thing?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“What do you want from me?”
“Do we need to start tickling your feet again? Will that help you think?”
“No! Stop! It wasn’t the right thing!”
“Why not?”
“Oh my god, Elizabeth. What do you want from me?”
Morton stepped backwards. “Tickle her some more, girls. She needs some help having fun with this.”
“No!” But Mei and Jessica were already in motion, and Elizabeth smirked as Katie shrieked. She hadn’t completely reached her climax, but her ticklish feet were having trouble telling the difference. “I WANT TO DO THE RIGHT THING!! I WANT TO DO THE RIGHT THING!” The fingers stopped, and Katie opened her eyes to see Morton giving a hand-signal.
“Why wasn’t it the right thing to take in Maddie Carter, Katie?”
“She’s a non-combatant! This isn’t her war!”
“Ooh! Listen to that Georgetown education! That’s right, Katie. This isn’t her war. Does she need to know everything you know about Andromeda?”
“No!” Katie’s head was swimming; she didn’t know whether that was right or not, but it seemed to be what Morton wanted to hear.
“That’s right, Katie.” Katie sighed. “You and Jen Chung and I are already in the fight. These Andromeda girls are already in the fight. But Maddie Carter–she’s not in the fight, and there’s no good reason for her to be.”
“I’m not going to sacrifice her to beat them.”
Elizabeth’s face beamed as she clapped her hands. “There you go, Katie! You did read for ethics class! So if we can keep the innocent out of the fight, that’s the right thing to do, right, Katie?”
Katie could feel a trap closing, but she didn’t want those fingers on her feet again. “Right.”
“So now I’m going to give you a chance to do the right thing. Now I know what you’re thinking: Elizabeth Morton betrayed America to work for Andromeda, right?”
Katie just glared.
“But here’s the secret, Katie: Andromeda isn’t against America. Andromeda is just for Andromeda. So if people in Andromeda want to use it to help America, as long as Andromeda comes out ahead, it’s all good.”
Katie started to squirm again. “Don’t wrap your sick little club in the flag, Morton!”
Elizabeth’s hand was on Katie’s breast again, and the reporter moaned in spite of herself. “Sick little club, Katie? Need I remind you that you just gave direct orders to these agents to tickle me to orgasm? And then tickle me some more?” Katie tried to squirm out of the way, but she couldn’t move, and her body was heating up again. “I think you’re just as much a part of this club as I am now, Katie.”
“No…”
“And of course, that’s the other reason you chose me instead of Maddie. You’re not into the young girls, are you? You’d feel guilty seeing her tickled until she came. But your new girlfriend? That gets you all kinds of hot, doesn’t it?” Elizabeth’s hand shot down to Katie’s hip and squeezed. Katie squealed and giggled. “So don’t pretend you’re not part of this, Katie Jones. And don’t pretend you’re not fascinated!”
Katie pulled at her wrist straps. “I’m going to bring all of this down when I get out of here, Morton!”
Elizabeth stood up and took her hands off of Katie’s body. “I wasn’t Morton when you had your mouth on me, Katie. I was your Elizabeth.”
Katie looked away.
“I can be your Elizabeth again, Katie. And you can help save innocent girls like Maddie Carter from bad girls like us and from much worse–terrorists and cartels and traffickers and all kinds of people in the world who do much worse than tickle lonely ladies like us.”
Katie managed another glare. “I’m nothing like you.”
Elizabeth’s finger started to circle Katie’s breast again. “If that were true, Katie, you wouldn’t be right on the edge of doing the right thing.”
“I’m not doing anything more for you, Morton.”
“You and I both know that’s a lie, Katie. The question now is how long it’s going to take me, how many feet-ticklings it’s going to take before you realize that writing stories for your little magazine isn’t how you’re going to save American girls like Maddie Carter.”
The finger was about to drive Katie over the edge again. “Andromeda is not America!”
Morton lifted her finger and tapped Katie on the nose with it. “It is when you and I are running this part of the operation.”
Katie shook her head. “No… I’m going to take Andromeda down… You can’t make me!”
“You know that’s not true, Katie. But you know I love playing this game. Girls, remind her just what we can make her do!”
Abby grinned, leaning in and looking for the next jolt as Jessica and Mei kept doing the work that nobody in the world could do better. Katie’s conscious mind wanted this time to be different, wanted to resist torture so that she could maintain her place in the world, to be a real American. But her feet never got the memo. Jessica’s fingernails did not care about Katie’s principles; they took Katie’s illusions of resistance away in seconds, and Katie’s hips bucked at the maddening scratches, first along the edge of her heel, then in the middle of her sole. At the same time Mei pinched at her toes, each squeeze making Katie wonder whether she actually had climaxed earlier, they tickled so badly.
Somehow knowing that she had something to lose again made the tickling even worse; The young women’s fingers never stopped threatening Katie’s sense of mental stability and her fears that they could make her desire what she never wanted to desire–three teams of Andromeda girls had proven they could do that–but now Katie feared that they could build on that foundation, could make her betray what she had made of herself when Andromeda’s fingers weren’t tickling her mind away. Mei’s hands departed, and Katie vainly tried to steel herself as Abby got ready to tickle her sole. The evil science of Andromeda’s ticklers did not lose anything when the stakes got higher, and Katie felt her principles, those parts of her that waited for her to escape, to return to her purpose in life after Andromeda had robbed her of her dignity, start to turn.
What if she could help America by tickling instead of by hunting the ticklers?
Abby’s fingers turned up that whisper in Katie’s soul to a roar. Eight flying fingers excited her skin, bubbled up into laughter that Katie could feel as the only thing that remained hers, continued to excite her hips and her abdomen and everything surrounding. Katie looked up at Elizabeth Morton, longed for nothing more than her brown hand between Katie’s pink legs. She could feel her dream of that Pulitzer prize transforming in her soul, becoming a soft bed and Elizabeth’s feet in Katie’s hands and both of them torturing the smooth feet of Jen Chung.
What? Jen Chung?
Jessica let go of Katie’s foot–she had no idea how much time was passing–and felt Mei start to rub the skin along her instep. Katie’s body hit a sexual plateau–the Andromeda girls were taking her right to the edge of orgasm and dangling her there–and the tickling was gaining in intensity, defying Katie’s imagination of just how ticklish her feet could get.
Katie could not tell whether she heard or imagined Elizabeth’s voice, calm and welcoming, say, “You know how to get everything you really want. Just do the right thing.”
“I’LL DO IT!”
The tickling continued.
“I’LL JOIN ANDROMEDA!”
The tickling stopped.
Katie Jones panted in the modified obstetrician’s chair.
“You have no idea how happy that makes me, Katie.”
Katie’s abdomen squeezed a wave of sexual energy downward. Elizabeth was happy. Katie groaned. She had lost any sense of what was an orgasm and what was not.
Elizabeth Morton’s lips were on Katie’s, and Katie drank deeply, the conscious mind that had set out for Kansas to find Traci Carter lying in puddles around the chair.
In a distant corner of Katie’s spirit, a part that before had driven her conscious mind and her journalist’s eye and her vision of justice from invisible places, the final remnant of Katie Jones, Washington reporter, continued to recite her desperate final plans: make them think you’ve joined them, wait for your opportunity, break the story. That part of Katie’s soul looked up in despair and surrendered the last fragment of the old Katie Jones as Jen Chung brought forth a tablet-sized screen and activated it just a few feet in front of Katie..
Katie saw a montage of love-making scenes, some in darkened safehouse bedrooms and some in the luxurious holding cells of Andromeda complexes. In some an athletic Black woman was involved, and Katie’s lust soared as she watched what she wanted to the most. In others a thin East-Asian body grappled and giggled and rose to excitement and exploded in climax. The common thread was that they all starred one Katie Jones.
Jen Chung spoke. “You’re going to be doing more for America inside Andromeda than you ever would have done fighting us, Katie. But just in case that old life comes back demanding control, remember that we have these videos. Andromeda can afford to lose me and Elizabeth as undercover assets–the news story would make federal law-enforcement complacent enough for us to double our presence in their ranks. And Andromeda has work for us out of the undercover world. But your career would end there, Katie. You’d be doing custom fetish videos and guest appearances in Howard Stern’s chair for the rest of your working life.”
“I don’t want that life any more,” Katie whispered. And she meant it.
Jen walked over to where the Andromeda girls had leaned back from Katie’s feet. The politician ran a finger over Katie’s sole as one might sneak an illicit taste of ice cream. Katie giggled at the touch. “I’m so glad to hear that, Katie. And don’t worry–you’re going to have lots of chances to tickle me and get me back for handing you over!”
The prospect of ticklish cruelty excited Katie almost as much as Jen Chung’s finger on her own sole.
Elizabeth Morton addressed unseen spectators in the darkness. “We’re going to get her ready for her trial run now.” She turned back to Katie. “We’’re going to take you back to your room now, Katie. Get some rest–we have a big week ahead of us.”
* * * * * * *
Katie did not fear the hood that they put over her head–resentment was more the sensation. She had given them what they wanted, right? She was going to join them. What was the extra security for? Nonetheless she walked where they wanted her to walk, her flip-flops the only sound in the corridors, her dampened panties beginning to get uncomfortable in the air-conditioning. She could smell her bedroom when they arrived, and she did not have to look around when they took the hood off of her head.
Katie walked over to her dresser to find dry clothes and underwear. The Andromeda agents left the room, and as Katie started to pick out clothes to work out–she needed to sweat for some other reason than laughing her mind away as Andromeda tickled her into treason–the familiar sounds reached her ears.
The Andromeda girls’ shoes squeaked quietly along the hallway.
The transparent door’s hinge swung.
Then nothing.
Katie put down the clothes she was picking out. Could it be real? Katie breathed slowly in through her nose, then out through her mouth, knowing full well that cameras would be watching her.
Can’t look over there.
Can’t look over there.
Katie took off her soiled panties and lingerie and placed them slowly in the laundry chute. She put on cotton panties, then a sports bra, then bicycle shorts and a dri-fit shirt.
Can’t look.
Can’t look.
She put on cotton socks and the tennis shoes she used to exercise on the elliptical, still not looking.
She tied the laces, her eyes forward.
Still no click.
Three.
Two.
One.
Katie Jones turned and walked resolutely towards the transparent cell door. She pulled on the handle, and it opened towards her. Out into the hallway she went, trying to step quietly in her cross-trainers. Nobody seemed to be going here or there as she turned corner after corner, looking desperately for any kind of sign that she was headed for an exit.
She crouched and looked carefully around the third corner, then the fourth. She accelerated to a fast walk as she realized that up ahead she could see stairs leading upward. She ran up them, and the space into which she emerged confirmed Katie’s suspicion: this was an abandoned school of some sort. Katie ran towards a space with different colors than the ones she had seen in the labyrinth of hallways below. Pivoting her head this way and that, one foot crossed behind the other as she crab-stepped across the doorframe, watching for anyone inside. The room’s floors seemed to be some kind of gymnastics mats or maybe the floor of some kind of dojo.
Katie stepped into the room and gasped: along one wall sunlight shone through a bank of windows, and she saw out the window the grand, distant horizon of the Great Plains. She suddenly remembered she had been in Kansas all this time. At the end of the windows she saw a single door with a metal handle for a knob. The outside world was one turn of that handle away.
“You’ll have to get past me to open that door, Katie.”
Katie froze, and she heard another pair of sneakers on the mat. She turned and realized that another woman was in the dojo with her. Katie didn’t recognize her, and she crouched into something like a fighting stance as the woman broke into a short sprint, not at Katie but into the open space between Katie and the door.
“You have no idea what I’ve been through. I’ll kill you if I have to.”
The woman, a blonde with a volleyball player’s build, smirked. “They told me you’d flipped, Katie, but a killer? I almost want to see this.” Katie watched as the athletic woman used the toe of one shoe to remove the other, then a socked foot to take off the remaining shoe. “I don’t even think you can get to that door on me.” Her feet planted, a low fighting stance, and she bounced lightly. Katie saw that she wore desert-camouflage fatigues, and she definitely had something in the cargo pockets.
“I’m going to get out that door. There’s only one of you, and you don’t have any weapons.”
“Try me, sweetie.”
Katie’s hands balled into fists. She shouted and took a short run at the taller woman, pulled one of her hands behind her head, and turned her whole body into a punch. Katie’s punch sailed through the open air–the other woman had turned aside, let Katie’s whole arm go past her, and wrapped a strong arm around Katie’s waist. The woman’s other hand grabbed onto Katie’s ribs and squeezed, and Katie’s knees turned to jelly as she heard herself squeal as the tickling pincher feasted on her side. She thrashed to get away, and as her momentum leaned away from the door, the woman let go, put both palms on Katie’s body, and dropped her weight as she pushed forward. Katie went into a roll and came to rest on the karate mats, looking up at a tile ceiling.
“Try again, Katie! That’s not going to work!”
Katie pulled herself up from the floor. “Who are you?”
“I’m one of Andromeda’s Feather-Agents, Katie. You can call me Alison.”
“Feather-Agents?”
“I was part of a three-woman Andromeda team in North America for seven years, and HQ saw potential in me to do more. So they gave me advanced training, and now I’m one of our international operatives.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Katie’s hands clenched again. She knew that this was going to be her only chance, so knowing full well that she wasn’t going to be any match for the taller, more athletic super-agent, she raised herself up on the balls of her feet and brought her hands up into a fighting guard.
“Let’s make a bet together, Katie. I’m going to give you another chance to get past me. If you can get a hand on the door’s handle, I let you run for an hour before I start tracking you.”
Katie just stared, looking for an opening.
“But if I can get your shoes and socks off, I get to tickle your feet until help comes. How about that?”
Katie’s teeth clenched at the prospect, and she pulled her fist back again, getting ready to throw another giant cowboy punch. But instead of leaning forward into the punch, she dropped her weight and tried to run past Alison towards the door. Alison, still in sock feet, side-stepped into Katie’s path, spread her arms wide, and wrapped both arms around Katie’s thighs. Katie fell forward, her hand reaching desperately for the door but falling yards short. She clawed at the padded floor, tried to propel herself forward, but she could not move the larger woman. And with lightning speed, one of Alison’s hands found its way out from under Katie and onto her bicycle shorts, just where Katie’s leg met her ass.
The squeeze was unbearable; Katie’s arms stopped reaching forward and pawed frantically behind her, trying to get ahold of Alison’s wrist but missing. The hand squeezed and squeezed, working down to the back of her knee and back up to her thigh, and Katie screamed at the tickling. Alison’s other hand latched onto Katie’s hip from behind, and Katie realized that, even though she thought that Andromeda had tickled her in every way that one woman can tickle another, only Alison had grabbed her from behind, and Katie’s inability to anticipate Alison’s pinching and kneading was making her ticklish in ways that the teams of three, with their single-minded focus on her feet, had never done before.
Katie writhed with the tickling, and on one squirm she felt her body roll from prone to supine. Katie lashed out with her sneakers, but once again all she connected with was empty air, and with unnerving speed Allison shoved Katie’s legs to the floor. Then, faster than Katie could react, Alison had slid underneath her bottom, bowed her own legs, and captured Katie’s calves in something like a headlock on each side of her body. Katie could feel Alison’s socked feet start to press in on her sides.
“No… please…”
Alison’s toes dug into Katie’s sides, and Katie’s back arched, her arms slapping wildly at the floor trying to get at Alison’s strong legs. Katie screamed, then fell into helpless roaring laughter as Alison’s feet tickled her body. The reporter’s hands did eventually find purchase on Alison’s thighs, but she had no leverage, and Alison was tickling so brutally that Katie had no strength to try to grapple. As Katie laughed and squirmed, she felt the heel of one of her sneakers sliding off of her foot, then launch out into space, leaving her socked foot exposed. Then the other shoe popped off, but Katie couldn’t bring herself to think that far into the future: Alison’s feet tickled the breath out of Katie, and they would not stop. By the time Katie regained her senses her socks also lay on the floor. Alison released her leg-locks, and she rolled gracefully into a crouch, and then she stood.
“Are you going to give me your feet to tickle now, or am I going to have to truss you up to collect on the bet?”
Katie clutched her too-tickled sides and looked longingly at the door. An arm reached out, and her legs tried to crawl towards that fateful handle.
“That’s my answer, isn’t it?” Reaching into a pocket on the side of her fatigues, Alison pulled out a coil of silk rope, and she quickly pulled Katie’s arms behind her back, tying them to her ankles and leaving Katie’s belly on the mats and her back arched. Katie was aware of her own bare feet as the highest-altitude part of her body, and in this place she knew that was going to be dangerous.
“I just wonder how long it’ll take them to come join us, Katie…” Alison plucked at Katie’s big toe with the thumb and forefinger of one hand, and with the other she made three quick clicking sounds with her thumbnail and the index finger’s nail. Katie had never seen anything like it, but when Alison’s free hand touched Katie’s upturned sole, Katie screamed.
“What are you doing?”
Alison let out a laugh that dripped sexual energy. “You’ve been in three Andromeda facilities, and you’re asking me what I’m doing? You’re something else, Katie Jones!”
Katie screeched as Alison’s fingernails passed slowly up her soles. “This isn’t normal! What are your fingers doing?”
Alison laughed again. “I think you’re just more ticklish than you thought you were, Katie Jones. I hope they don’t take too long finding us–I might just tickle you right out of your skin!”
Whatever was happening to Katie’s feet, she knew this was no ordinary tickling. She fell into panicked, terrified laughter, and she could feel her lungs getting tired already. “Stop! Please stop! I’ll go back to my cell! Tell Elizabeth I’ll go back to my cell!”
“It’s going to take Elizabeth a while to walk to this part of the compound, Katie. And besides, I want to take those famous toes of yours for a test drive!”
Katie didn’t even care that her toes were famous; whatever Alison the Feather Agent was doing, Katie, who mere years before had no sense of what tickle torture was like, was going to lose her mind if those fingers did not let up on her feet. Hogtied on the mats, she squealed and begged as Alison tickled, and when she turned her head to see Elizabeth Morton and three of the younger Andromeda agents come through the door, she immediately cried out to them.
“Elizabeth! Make her stop! Please make her stop!”
“Oh good! You’ve met Alison! She’s going to be coming with us to Veracruz.”
The tickling stopped. Katie, still hog-tied, panted to catch her breath. “Why did you send her after me?”
Morton’s boots were on the mat next to Katie’s body. “Nobody sent Alison, Katie. She was waiting here. You could have stayed in your room.”
“You…”
“...left that door open on purpose? You’d best believe we did. Now we know that you still think you’re part of that world, part of that silly magazine. I don’t think you believe that in your head, but somewhere in your feet you still think that you’re leaving us. Good thing Alison is here to take care of those feet!”
“No, Elizabeth! Please! I’ll go with you to Mexico! Don’t let her tickle me any more!”
“I’m not letting her do anything, Katie. You asked for this when you tried to leave us.”
“Please, no–she’s got some kind of weapon. She makes my feet too ticklish!”
Morton laughed. “You’ll learn more about the tech in her nails later. Right now you need to learn just what she can do to a woman’s body, and you need to learn another lesson about what Andromeda can do do you, body and soul, baby.” Morton gestured to Alison, and Alison’s fingernails descended onto Katie’s heels. At least that much made sense now–not only was Alison a years-long veteran of Andromeda, likely one of the best ticklers who ever lived, but something was going on with her fingernails to make the tickling the worst that Katie, who had endured more tickling than most women in the whole human species, had ever suffered. Katie squealed and laughed and wished that she could be anywhere but on these dojo mats, being tickled to death by this gorgeous Amazon, and Morton watched on as Alison worked those high-tech fingernails between Katie’s toes, making Katie’s vision go blurry in the sheer intensity of the sensations.
Alison’s merciless tickling stopped just as Katie’s vision was starting to go dark, and as she regained her breath, Elizabeth Morton crouched down next to her tied form. “I imagine Alison has told you about Feather Agents, hasn’t she?”
Katie nodded.
“When we’re operating on foreign soil, it’s not always possible to extract a target and bring her to an Andromeda facility like we’ve done with you. So Alison and other Feather Agents are trained to go in and do the work solo. She’s followed so many jolts that she can find them and exploit them even while she’s tickling, and Andromeda gives her special tools that our North American agents don’t have.”
“The nails…”
“Yes, the nails. Each one of her artificial nails has nano-vibration actuators built in at the macromolecular level. When a transmitter in the thumbnail activates, the edges of those nails pick up on the eclectic signals in the nerves of a woman’s feet and throw them out of sync. The result is a tickling that goes way beyond what nature intended.”
Katie nodded again.
“With those babies on your tootsies and a vibrator between your legs, Alison can make a woman wish she were dead in a hurry, and with her enhanced interrogation training, she can get intel from our targets and exfiltrate without having to bring targets in for hours-long interrogations.”
“Like the ones I’ve had.”
“Like the ones you’re still going to get, Katie. You tried to escape, and that’s serious business.”
“Please not the nails again!”
“You’re going to get the nails again, Katie, and the micro-vibrator. She’s going to get you so ticklish you wish you were on fire instead, and you’re going to know what she’s going to inflict on the targets you two seek out when you’re operating internationally.”
“Please… I’ll be good…”
“I know you will, Katie. And the reason I know is because Alison here is going to tickle the last of your old life out of you now. There’s nothing in the world you can do to stop her, and there’s nothing you can offer us that we want more than what comes out the other side. I’m going to be here watching, and in a moment so is Jen Chung, and Alison is going to humiliate you and torture you and make you all Andromeda, all the time. A Feather Agent named Samantha did the same to me years ago, before I got into the DHS, and now it’s your turn. When Alison is done with you, everything you want will be Andromeda, and everything you do from this day forward will be Andromeda.”
“Please…”
“Alison, it’s time to make Katie here Andromeda material.”
“No!”
Even though the nano-nails were effectively silent, Katie thought that she could hear them buzz to life in the cool air of the dojo.
* * * * * * *
Five weeks later, Katie Jones woke up in a cheap hotel in Veracruz. She got up slowly so that Alison could keep sleeping and opened up her secure Andromeda laptop. Gamma Squad’s intel had traced American shipments of Kalashnikovs and rocket launchers to this port, and the figure known as La Baronesa would be waiting to receive the shipment, then get it on trucks to haul inland before separatist guerillas, who had paid handsomely for the ordnance, would distribute it to anti-government fighters.
Interest magazine had received Katie’s resignation, and as far as anyone knew, she had departed the Washington scene, perhaps to resurface later in some distant small town the way that her best-known subject had done. But for once, Katie was on the side of the impending story that knew what was going to happen next. But that would have to wait–Katie and Alison were here to break up the weapons shipment, and La Baronesa would be the weak link.
And that was going to be some ticklish business.
Katie scanned the mission plan for the hundredth time. She couldn’t help but wonder whether some reporter would be interviewing Alison some day, wondering who might have been pulling the strings, never knowing that the one who broke the very first Andromeda story was now making Andromeda stories. But those imaginings would have to wait: La Baronesa was on her way to her own safe-house out in the hills. No Andromeda team would have been able to get inside her house in town–too many armed guards. But today, she only had two thugs with her, and the house was several miles in-land, off a side road.
“Alright, Alison. She’s on the move.” The tall Andromeda agent, her athletic 31-year-old body a thing to behold, rolled over, and she sat up. “Get suited up and hit the road. Our window is about to open.”
“And when I’m done with her, Katie, will you be back here waiting for me?”
Katie smiled in spite of herself. “Would you focus on the mission? It’s time to do what you do!”
Alison wiggled two fingers in the air, and Katie felt herself getting giggly even across the room. “I’m coming back here for you, you know? You’re just too much fun for me to stay away!”
Katie extended a leg away from her chair and wiggled her toes. “Not until the mission is finished, Alison.”
“Okay, but we are not done. I have a date with those feet, Little Mama!.” With that Alison stood up and started to dress herself in jungle fatigues. Katie watched her lean, strong legs slide into the pants and her hands–those hands that had broken Katie time and again–pull on a light jacket. Then she opened a locked case and put a semi-automatic pistol and a silencer in a holster and a holder, followed by a small canteen and some other equipment.
Katie booted up a second computer and started running diagnostics on the surveillance drone that would follow Alison on the road. “I’ve got eyes and ears ready to follow you. Just deploy the drone when you arrive on-site and activate your com.”
“I’ll be thinking of you when I’m tickling her, you know.”
“Would you stop? We have work to do!”
Alison grinned, licked her lips, and laced on a pair of combat boots. Then she took the drone from Katie and made her way out of the hotel room and down to a motorcycle on street level. With the drone strapped to her backpack, she raced off into the streets and towards the road leading out of town.
Back in the hotel room, Katie tracked her tormentor and the target at the same time. “The truck is on-site. When you hear my mark, get yourself hidden and let the squad leave the compound. That will leave you with three targets: La Baronesa and two of her guards.”
Alison responded quietly into her mouthpiece–the motorcycle she rode ran quietly. “Just let me know when to get under cover.”
Katie kept watching, and when the truck stopped, she started a timer on the main computer. The unload, according to their best intel, would take about twenty minutes.
Alison approached the side road leading to the compound. She turned onto the gravel path and started carefully up the hill. The bike wasn’t as fast as a car or a truck once she was off the road, but she could stash it much more easily.
The truck started to move.
“They’re on their way out. Get yourself and the bike off the road, and deploy the drone once they’ve passed.”
Katie waited. The dot on her map representing Alison was not moving from its position a quarter-mile down the side road, but the weapons truck rolled out of the back road and towards the highway.
“They’re past you. Deploy the drone.”
A new interface lit up on Katie’s screen. She quickly plugged a USB controller into one of the side ports and took control of the flying machine. The precision and the size were about what a serious hobbyist might sport–nothing like a Ukrainian tank-killer or any of the missile drones that Alison had seen in action. Katie established a stable hover sixty meters above the hillside.
“I’ve got eyes on you. Climbing and scouting.” Katie maneuvered the drone towards the house and climbed to 100 meters. She could see two guards walking a circuit. “Two guns, one in front and one in back. Get in with the trees at two o’clock front, and I’ll bring gun one to you.”
Alison crossed the gravel road quickly and started to make her way through the thick undergrowth towards the house.
“Gun one coming your way. He’s checking in with gun two. Hold until my mark.”
Alison froze in place and lowered her center of gravity so that nothing was above the tops of the vines and bushes. She heard a man’s voice speaking Spanish, then a reply over a radio. Then silence.
“Mark.”
Now she made her way forward until she came to the edge of the house’s clearing. She could not see the guard yet. “In position.”
“Get ready–he’s coming your way.” Katie maneuvered the drone into a descent directly above the guard, swooping out to his flank just before making impact. The guard, feeling the sudden breeze from above, looked up, then followed the machine’s black shell as it swooped out away from the house, then made way for the treeline. He threw his Kalashnikov over his shoulder, letting the strap hold the rifle as he walked towards the trees and reached for his radio. His eyes never looked down from the drone as he disengaged the radio from his belt.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap tap tap.
Alison ran quietly from cover, slowing only to grab the rifle from the guard’s body and put one more quiet sidearm round into his head before putting her back against the house’s wall. She disengaged the rifle’s safety and crept around the other side of the house.
“I’m going to bring gun two your way. Take him loud. On my mark.”
Alison waited, then heard a man shouting into a radio that he saw an aircraft and needed Javier to get over here.
“Mark.”
Alison ran out from the corner three steps, dropped into a crouch, sighted in, and fired a tight three-round burst into the guard’s upper chest.
He never looked down from the drone.
“Mobile signals jammed. Heading in to spook her. Breach when you hear shots.”
Alison ran back to a first-floor window and waited. Just as the plan went, pistol shots rang out. Alison broke out the window’s dirty glass with a retractable baton as quickly as she could, finishing before the pistol fire ceased. She counted the shots as she worked, and she knew that La Baronesa had expended an automatic pistol’s magazine trying to shoot down the drone. She climbed through carefully, listening for footsteps. When she picked up the sound, she moved quickly and quietly until she found a brown-skinned woman, likewise dressed in jungle camouflage, digging into the drawer in an end-table next to a couch. The mobile phone lay on top of the table.
By the time Alison crossed the distance to engage, she had only just pulled a reload out of the drawer. Before she could eject the empty clip from her weapon, Alison was on her, hooking the arm that held the sidearm and pulling it up, well out of reach of her other hand and of the spare.
The woman screamed, and she struggled to get her hands together and get bullets into the gun. Alison had no such plans. Alison turned and fell backwards onto the couch, still holding the gun-arm but leaving the other arm to flail as her strong hand grabbed a claw-full of La Baronesa’s side. The cartel fixer screamed again, her free hand flailing in the air. Alison, sandwiched between La Baronesa and the couch, never let up on the tickling as she brought her boots up to wrap her own legs around the target’s thighs. Alison’s ankles crossed, and she knew that she had the drug fixer immobilized. She felt the gun-arm weaken as she wrapped her arm around the smaller woman’s torso and dug into the other side of her body.
Then she got the sign that her victory was locked in: La Baronesa started to laugh at the tickling. Alison’s right hand roamed freely over the older woman’s body–the dossier said she was forty-one, and Alison had tickled enough middle-aged women to know that the numbers were on target. They slid off the couch onto the floor, and Alison’s hand never slowed down. With La Baronesa’s right arm raised and right side exposed, Alison squeezed her ribs, pinched the side of her belly, and clawed at her underarm, feeling the strength leave the ticklish woman as she worked. She loosened the hold on the woman’s arm and grabbed her right wrist, seizing complete control of the empty pistol.
“You’d better hold onto that gun, sweetie, or I’m going to tickle you even worse!” As she said so, she began to wrench her wrist violently back and forth. She felt La Baronesa squeeze with all the strength she had, but the tickling had taken too much out of her, and with a handful of whipping motions Alison heard the pistol bounce off of the floor and slide into a corner of the room. Alison rolled with her prey and maneuvered her into a prone position, Alison’s hips against La Baronesa’s lower back.
“Oh no! Now you don’t have your gun, and you’re all ticklish. What’s the big mean American girl going to do to you now?”
“You’re a dead woman. There are more guns coming right now, and when they get here, I’m going to have them take you apart!”
“Nobody’s coming until tonight, and it’s only nine in the morning. Nobody got any messages out, cutie. So I’ve got hours to play with you!” She reached forward and grabbed as much of La Baronesa’s underarms as her hands could squeeze, and the prey’s long black hair thrashed as she shrieked. “And once I get you all trussed up, I’m the one who has a car coming for us. Do you think I can get those boots off of you before she gets here?”
At the mention of her feet, La Baronesa tried to thrash harder, but Alison was larger, and she had free rein to tickle her ribs, turning the fighting and twisting of the smaller woman’s body into tickled writhing. Alison’s hand went to a compartment on her belt with practiced fluidity, and within seconds she had both of La Baronesa’s hands zip-tied behind her back.
“I have the subject subdued and ready for transport. Don’t drive too fast, baby. We’re not in any hurry here.”
“On-site in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll bet I can get her talking before you get here.”
“Just keep the subject subdued.”
“If I do, I’m going to tickle your feet tonight!”
Alison heard an undeniable giggle. “Just keep her secure until I get there.”
She turned back to La Baronesa. “That was my partner just now. Our communications still work. She’s on her way here, and when she gets here, we’re going somewhere that will let us work on you nice and slow, especially those feet.”
“You’re a dead woman!”
“But we’ve got some time now, don’t we? I’ll bet I can get those boots off of you before she gets here!”
“No! Don’t you touch me!”
Alison shifted her weight to the backs of La Baronesa’s thighs and put one hand on each of her hips. With her hands tied together in the middle of her back, the cartel fixer couldn’t move to cover any of her sensitive flesh, and Alison’s hands feasted, squeezing and kneading. As tough as she had proven herself, and as frightening as the men who killed for the cartel found her, these hands, this tickling, was stripping away that mask in seconds. What the strange American was finding, and in a hurry, was the grown version of Maria, the girl from the village, and that girl started to squeal and giggle as Alison kept tickling her hips, then her sides, then pinching at the backs of her legs, just at the tops where they met her bottom. “Can I have your boots now?”
“No! Get away from me!”
“I don’t think you want me to get away from you at all. I think you know how ticklish those feet of yours can get if I can just get my hands on them.” Alison pushed herself up, then quickly twisted around so that she could loop one arm around La Baronesa’s calves. “I’ll bet the boys you have in your bed tickle them a little bit.” She started to unlace one of the boots. “But you know what, honey? Those boys who tickle you just want to get their rocks off and go to sleep. When we get you to where we’re going, I’m going to be awake for hours working on those feet!” The other boot dropped, and Maria felt sure, steady fingers peeling one sock off. “Wait a minute. Boys or girls?”
“Let me go!”
“Oh, okay. Boys. You’re in for a treat today. We’re not going to let you go for some time, baby. Now tell me–just how ticklish are these feet of yours?”
* * * * * * *
Alison entered the room in the safehouse where La Baronesa was still chained to the bed. Sitting far enough away that neither her free hand nor her ticklish feet could reach her, Alison activated a tablet and started a video. The cartel fixer watched herself giggling, begging, promising. None of this was news to her.
But then her mouth opened in shock. The image on the screen, in Spanish, started to give the on-screen Alison a location, a time, the number of guards, and everything that American agents would need in order to intercept the next major shipment of rockets later that day. Furiously she shouted at Alison, “I never told you any of that!”
Alison grinned, her eyes narrowing. “But you did just confirm it. What you’re watching, my ticklish pet, is what’s called Deep Fake video. We’re going to keep you here until ten minutes after the next arms shipment gets hijacked, no matter what. And our CIA team is going to intercept those weapons, no matter what. None of that is in your control. The only thing that you get to decide is what happens to you afterwards. That part is entirely up to you at this point.”
“I’m not going to work for you, American.”
“Then the cartel bosses are going to get this video, and they’re going to know both how ticklish you are and that you gave up that shipment. And my organization is going to make them an offer to torture you for their entertainment, as long as they want, before we hand you over to them to do as they please.”
La Baronesa’s jaw set, but her eyes betrayed fear. “You know they’ll kill me.”
“They don’t have to, honey. Like I said, that’s entirely your choice. We can tell them that a rival cartel killed your guards, that you escaped into the woods when the shooting started, and then my agents can leak to the cartel bosses how the intel really got out. Or at least the story that our real source wants told.”
“How did you really get that intel?”
“The old-fashioned way. The lieutenant in charge of getting the weapons on the truck in Argentina had an affair with an undercover CIA agent, and we threatened to go to his wife’s family with that video. Nasty Italian immigrant family. Rumors that they knew Mussolini personally. Anyway, he was perfectly fine letting the truck driver here in Mexico take the fall. And that’s how we can work things out for you if you go to work for us.”
“Information on the Cartel?”
“With regular check-ins.”
“And you protect me?”
“As much as we can. There are no guarantees in the world we live in, honey, but you’ve got better odds with us than against us.”
“Deal.”
“Not yet. Andromeda stays in the middle, and you come visit with me for your briefings.”
La Baronesa looked at those terrible, tickling hands. She swallowed. “Deal.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing you again, sweetie.”
* * * * * * *
Shutters clicked as Washington photographers captured the three women at the podium, the athletic Black woman and the steel-eyed Korean-American flanking the White reporter who had returned, it seemed from the dead.
Katie Jones read a prepared statement.
“The Secretary of Homeland Security has appointed Jennifer Chung of Boston, Massachusetts, a recent victim of the domestic terrorist group known as Andromeda, to head up a standing task force to investigate the abductions and torture that the group inflicts on American citizens. As you know, I also have been a target of this group, as has Special Agent in Charge Elizabeth Morton.
I have resigned from Interest magazine at Special Agent Morton’s request so that I can act as press liaison for this task force. Director Chung will report directly to the Secretary of Homeland Security, and Special Agent Morton will lead our ongoing counter-terrorist operations. We thank the American people for your vigilance, and rest assured that we will find and apprehend the so-called Epsilon Squadron and make sure that this time they do not escape from custody.”
Here are the earlier parts so that you can get the whole story. (There are a bunch of characters.)
Andromeda 1: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...11#post4785111
Andromeda 2: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...67#post4697967
Andromeda 3: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...92#post4713292
Andromeda 4: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...88#post4741088
Andromeda 5: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...part-5-(fff-f)
Andromeda 6: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showth...70#post4786670
Andromeda 7: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?350941-Andromeda-part-7-(f-f-fff-f)
As usual, my request to you readers is thus: leave a comment when you finish, and then read someone else's story and leave a comment there!
KI
Andromeda part 8 (f/f, fff/f)
by
Kid Indy
Terror and desire and tickling make a mixed drink that most women don’t even know the taste of. Many wouldn’t even try it if they watched someone mix it in front of them. Katie Jones, senior reporter for Interest magazine, had tasted and gulped and lost herself in that mixture in three states, with a dozen women. Yes, they only seemed to serve this one on ladies’ night.
But nothing she had experienced since she first discovered the dark organization called Andromeda prepared her to see Elizabeth Morton, her athletic body wrapped in a silk nightgown, rise from the chair where three Andromeda girls had just restrained her wrists and ankles and brought her to ticklish climax, then remember that her own chair still held her feet in place as the Andromeda agents approached to secure her wrists. Jen Chung’s devilish laughter behind only added to the nightmare that was unfolding: Katie’s ally, the one to whom she had confided her plans to escape this place, to take the information she had gathered and lead federal law enforcement’s crusade against them, Elizabeth Morton was now giving orders to Andromeda agents.
“Elizabeth! What is this? What are you doing?” Her arms would not even move to fight as the Andromeda agents fastened padded leather cuffs around her wrists and ankles.
Elizabeth Morton’s dark eyes drew level with Katie’s as she climbed part of the elevated platform where Katie sat in a bright circle in a vast, dark space. “What am I doing? Ask yourself what you just did, Katie. After everything you and I had been through together, you look me in the eye and give these girls the order to torture me? And then go after me again when they’ve brought me to orgasm?”
“But Maddie Carter…”
“That’s right. Maddie Carter.” Elizabeth gestured for the girls to take positions, one at each of Katie’s feet and the third sitting on a stool overlooking the three women. “Maddie Carter. It’s hard to see someone threatened like that, isn’t it? To know that someone so young is going to go through things that you didn’t even know about until you were past forty? But oh, Katie, the resolve that was on your face when you told the girls to torture me instead!” Morton threw back her head and laughed. “I could just eat you up right now!” She turned to Chung. “And making her give the order three times? Somebody’s been to Sunday School!”
The puzzle pieces were spinning too quickly; Katie couldn’t keep up. “Wait, you heard me?”
Elizabeth chuckled. “Katie, I’ve seen and heard every moment I wanted to ever since you got here.” She climbed another step so that she stood just beside Abby, who sat ready to go to work on Katie’s left foot. “And when we came to the moment when we needed you to take a stand, you took your stand, baby!”
Katie shook her head, theories forming and disintegrating as quickly as she could craft them. “Then Andromeda is actually… no, you’re… what–-STOP THAT!” Elizabeth’s fingers were bicycling in front of Katie’s sole, her fingertips lightly tickling her skin. “Stop! What is this place? Stop that!” Katie heard herself start giggling as Elizabeth’s fingers continued to stroke her sole.
“And now you’re going to try to take a stand again, Katie, but here’s the thing: you know what the right choice is going to be, but you’re going to feel embarrassed to do what’s right.” Katie started to writhe as the fingers that had tickled her affectionately–or so she thought–kept finding her sole, which had nowhere to run. “You’re going to wonder whether you’re just doing what’s right so that you can kiss me again, and tickle my feet again.”
“Stop! Stop doing this to me!”
“And you’re right, honey–if you do what’s right, you can tickle me again, and both of us can tickle Jen here until she’s good and sorry for what she did to you too!”
The fingers kept tickling, and Katie couldn’t stave off the sensations as she tried to solve Morton’s riddle. Her bottom started to bounce on the seat. “Stop! Just stop! What do you want from me?”
Elizabeth’s fingers still hadn’t stopped. “Oh, Katie, you know that’s not how these sessions work! We’re going to have some laughs together first. Then we can talk about what we want… and what you want!” Morton’s fingers lifted away from Katie’s fingers, and as Katie panted, Morton kissed her own dark knuckles. “Mei! Abby! Jessica! Let’s see how ticklish Katie is now that she’s directed my tickling!”
Abby crouched forward, and Mei gently wrapped Katie’s heel in her fingers. Jessica looked on from the spotter’s stool. Katie Jones had been in this position a dozen times and more, yet her fluttering tummy told her this one was going to be worse than the ones before.
Morton took a step back so that she was behind Jessica. “Get her laughing, girls.”
Katie’s lust having Elizabeth at her disposal and the fear that attended the reversal had the reporter’s nerves drawn tighter than the strings of a violin, and Abby and Mei were among the most ruthless and skilled ticklers in the world. Katie pushed her head backwards against the chair’s head-rest, and her laughter spilled out of her fast and steady. Her memory always convinced her that she knew what to expect, and the skin on her feet always outran what she thought she remembered. This time was no different: Abby’s fingernails scratched at the skin between Katie’s toes, and Katie’s flexing feet could not keep them from finding nerve after nerve with sweep after sweep. At the same time Mei pinched at her instep, each one out of rhythm with Abby’s regular attacks and every one making her hips want to squirm. Katie’s mind surrendered to the sensations: even before they started tickling she had no idea what Morton wanted, no idea what Jen Chung had to do with anything, no sense of how she could get out of this and get back to Washington and expose all of this. Now, with these skilled fingers on her skin, she had no plea. She had no threat. She had nothing but the laughter that the air seemed to pull out of her body.
Katie’s hands gripped the armrests, then extended fingers into the cool air, as Mei continued to pinch at the skin between her toes and her heel, moving up and down the inside edge of her foot. She felt Abby’s fingernails turn loose, and she clinched her eyes shut, knowing that Jessica was about to start pinching her other instep, doubling the tickling. When her fingers first closed, Katie once again knew, in ways that most women would never know, that anticipating the work of a skilled tickler and withstanding that work could not be further from each other as the seconds rolled into moments. Jessica pinched and teased as Mei switched from a pinching motion to the fluttering motion of a piano player, and once again Katie felt her mind dissipating, becoming one with the air, as the ticklish skin of her feet became the center of her universe.
Jessica started scratching at Katie’s heel, and she giggled a bubbling song that wound its way through air and into her own ears. Mei’s hands departed, and Katie tried to resign herself to what was coming next. But resignation was no armor either, and when Abby started scratching at her other heel, Katie’s knees bounced up and down, kicking the laughing air as those expert hands turned her muscles to jelly and the whole of her skin into a giant receiver for tickling touches. Jessica’s fingernails zig-zagged up Katie’s sole, and she squealed as the sensations shifted flavor. That foot came under those direction-switching attacks for a span that seemed endless as Abby continued to focus on Katie’s heel.
And somewhere in mental space, Katie’s mind tumbled in an utter void: with no idea of what Elizabeth Morton or these cruel Andromeda girls wanted, the normal questions had no anchor to hold them. Nobody would tell Katie what she could do to make it stop. Nobody told Katie what information she had to surrender. Without a sense of what she had to protect, Katie Jones of Interest magazine had only a single thread to hold onto: when she got out of here, all of these ticklers were going down. She was going to bring her editors Traci Carter and Jen Chung and Elizabeth Morton’s heads on a platter, and nobody else, including Carter’s daughter, would ever go through what she was going through.
The problem with that, of course, was that Katie was entirely at the disposal of Andromeda until they made a mistake and let her escape, and right now, Katie needed an immediate purpose to keep her mind. As she giggled and laughed and moaned at the torment, Mei began to tickle her sole. Had Jessica left? Katie knew that she must have, but until she opened one eye to see Jessica back on the spotter’s stool, she realized that she hadn’t even noticed the departure. But Mei was definitely a change for the worse, and Katie cackled as Mei exploited the jolt that Jessica had exposed.
Without a warning, the tickling stopped, and Katie looked around in vain for a clock so that she could have some sense of what she had endured, how long she had endured it, how long she had left before she had another chance to escape. Elizabeth Morton’s long dark legs approached in powerful strides, and she bent down to talk to Katie face to face. “It never does get any less ticklish, does it?”
Katie’s head did not move as her eyes turned and glared at the woman who, not long before, Katie had come to think of as a real lover.
“You also never stop getting hot when it happens.” Elizabeth Morton reached out with one hand and stroked Katie’s breast through her night-gown. Katie moaned as rage battled with sexual ecstasy. She felt spasms between her legs and knew what must be next.
Then she heard herself speak. “When I get out of here, you’re all going to federal prison forever. You’re not going to win.” The part of Katie’s mind that thought strategically screamed from a place far beyond her body to stop, and whatever remained strapped to that chair kept talking. “I’m going to dedicate the rest of my life to taking you down!”
Morton stroked Katie’s other breast through the silk, and Katie gasped at the intense pleasure of the touch. “Now this is what I’ve been waiting for, Katie! This is the fighter that I’ve been watching all these months!” Morton did not lift her hand but pinched playfully at Katie’s chest. Katie’s agony and ecstasy made her writhe in the chair. “But it’s time to acknowledge what we all know, Katie. Your pride won’t hold out when we get back to what we’ve been doing.”
Katie wanted to strut, wanted to threaten, but instead she heard herself beg. “No. Please.”
“It’s time to think about doing what’s right, Katie.”
“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN? STOP TOUCHING ME!”
Elizabeth’s fingers drew slow, sensuous circles around Katie’s nipple. “You know it’s just your pride that’s keeping us enemies. You have a hunch, somewhere below this ticklish, delicious skin, that you’re about to learn something much bigger than your little magazine can handle.”
Kaite thought that she was trying to squirm away from Morton’s fingers, but she found her back arching to get more of those touches, more of the sensation. She groaned out a mixture of disgust with herself and hatred for Andromeda and desire for more. “Please… I need this…”
Morton’s finger traced a line on the silk down towards Katie’s navel. Katie squirmed with the electric sensations. “What you need, Katie, is purpose. Your little magazine gave you a taste of purpose, but now you’re standing at the door of something much bigger.”
“Please…”
Morton’s finger circled Katie’s belly button and started to move towards a hip. “You and I both know, no matter how hard you deny it, that choosing between Maddie Carter and me wasn’t hard for you. Part of it was that you wanted to see my feet tickled, to see me get off the way that Andromeda has gotten you off so many times. But part of you just wanted to do the right thing.”
Morton was tracing a ticklish line across Katie’s panty line. “Yes… the right thing…”
“Good, Katie. Are you ready to do the right thing with us?’
Katie’s head shook from side to side, her eyes desperately trying to see clearly through the fog of sensations and hormones. “No! I’m not going to be part of you!”
Elizabeth Morton’s finger traced a line from the top of Katie’s panties down the center of her body, nearly to her anus. Katie cried out, nearly crossing the line into a climax. “You already are, Katie.”
“No! I’m going to destroy you!”
“That’s your pride talking again, Katie.” The finger went up the middle of Katie’s panties again, then down. “You know there are threats to America out there that are far worse than Andromeda.”
“No…”
Up and down. Katie started to pant. “You know that Homeland Security could get inside of those threats and take them down one by one if we can use Andromeda as a tool.”
Up and down.
“Mama Sam’s cartel bust was just the tip of the iceberg. William Banksman’s funding for right-wing insurgents in Venezuela can translate into international busts like we’ve never seen before.”
Up and down. Katie’s head swam. “Wait! Stop, please! Bill Banksman was funding terrorists?”
Up and down. “That story is going to cost you, Katie. Are you going to do the right thing?”
Up and down. Katie squeaked in pleasure as she tried to navigate. “Yes! You can tickle me! But what was Banksman’s involvement?”
Up and down. “We’re going to tickle you all we want, Katie, but now you’ve got to decide to do the right thing.”
Up and down. Katie’s throat rattled, and she could feel her panties start to stick to her body. Through the haze she heard herself ask, “What’s the right thing?” The finger stopped. Katie panted, knowing how close she had come to the edge.
Morton leaned in and got face to face with Katie again. “Now you’re asking the right question, Katie! But first I have a question for you: why did you pick me to tickle?”
Katie looked away. “What do you want me to say?”
Morton took a side-step and got in front of Katie’s face again. “Why not surrender the kid? For all you knew, torturing me might give up big government secrets. Why not surrender the kid?”
Katie felt as if puppet-strings were pulling on the corners of her mouth. “Because it wasn’t the right thing?”
“Are you asking me or telling me?”
“What do you want from me?”
“Do we need to start tickling your feet again? Will that help you think?”
“No! Stop! It wasn’t the right thing!”
“Why not?”
“Oh my god, Elizabeth. What do you want from me?”
Morton stepped backwards. “Tickle her some more, girls. She needs some help having fun with this.”
“No!” But Mei and Jessica were already in motion, and Elizabeth smirked as Katie shrieked. She hadn’t completely reached her climax, but her ticklish feet were having trouble telling the difference. “I WANT TO DO THE RIGHT THING!! I WANT TO DO THE RIGHT THING!” The fingers stopped, and Katie opened her eyes to see Morton giving a hand-signal.
“Why wasn’t it the right thing to take in Maddie Carter, Katie?”
“She’s a non-combatant! This isn’t her war!”
“Ooh! Listen to that Georgetown education! That’s right, Katie. This isn’t her war. Does she need to know everything you know about Andromeda?”
“No!” Katie’s head was swimming; she didn’t know whether that was right or not, but it seemed to be what Morton wanted to hear.
“That’s right, Katie.” Katie sighed. “You and Jen Chung and I are already in the fight. These Andromeda girls are already in the fight. But Maddie Carter–she’s not in the fight, and there’s no good reason for her to be.”
“I’m not going to sacrifice her to beat them.”
Elizabeth’s face beamed as she clapped her hands. “There you go, Katie! You did read for ethics class! So if we can keep the innocent out of the fight, that’s the right thing to do, right, Katie?”
Katie could feel a trap closing, but she didn’t want those fingers on her feet again. “Right.”
“So now I’m going to give you a chance to do the right thing. Now I know what you’re thinking: Elizabeth Morton betrayed America to work for Andromeda, right?”
Katie just glared.
“But here’s the secret, Katie: Andromeda isn’t against America. Andromeda is just for Andromeda. So if people in Andromeda want to use it to help America, as long as Andromeda comes out ahead, it’s all good.”
Katie started to squirm again. “Don’t wrap your sick little club in the flag, Morton!”
Elizabeth’s hand was on Katie’s breast again, and the reporter moaned in spite of herself. “Sick little club, Katie? Need I remind you that you just gave direct orders to these agents to tickle me to orgasm? And then tickle me some more?” Katie tried to squirm out of the way, but she couldn’t move, and her body was heating up again. “I think you’re just as much a part of this club as I am now, Katie.”
“No…”
“And of course, that’s the other reason you chose me instead of Maddie. You’re not into the young girls, are you? You’d feel guilty seeing her tickled until she came. But your new girlfriend? That gets you all kinds of hot, doesn’t it?” Elizabeth’s hand shot down to Katie’s hip and squeezed. Katie squealed and giggled. “So don’t pretend you’re not part of this, Katie Jones. And don’t pretend you’re not fascinated!”
Katie pulled at her wrist straps. “I’m going to bring all of this down when I get out of here, Morton!”
Elizabeth stood up and took her hands off of Katie’s body. “I wasn’t Morton when you had your mouth on me, Katie. I was your Elizabeth.”
Katie looked away.
“I can be your Elizabeth again, Katie. And you can help save innocent girls like Maddie Carter from bad girls like us and from much worse–terrorists and cartels and traffickers and all kinds of people in the world who do much worse than tickle lonely ladies like us.”
Katie managed another glare. “I’m nothing like you.”
Elizabeth’s finger started to circle Katie’s breast again. “If that were true, Katie, you wouldn’t be right on the edge of doing the right thing.”
“I’m not doing anything more for you, Morton.”
“You and I both know that’s a lie, Katie. The question now is how long it’s going to take me, how many feet-ticklings it’s going to take before you realize that writing stories for your little magazine isn’t how you’re going to save American girls like Maddie Carter.”
The finger was about to drive Katie over the edge again. “Andromeda is not America!”
Morton lifted her finger and tapped Katie on the nose with it. “It is when you and I are running this part of the operation.”
Katie shook her head. “No… I’m going to take Andromeda down… You can’t make me!”
“You know that’s not true, Katie. But you know I love playing this game. Girls, remind her just what we can make her do!”
Abby grinned, leaning in and looking for the next jolt as Jessica and Mei kept doing the work that nobody in the world could do better. Katie’s conscious mind wanted this time to be different, wanted to resist torture so that she could maintain her place in the world, to be a real American. But her feet never got the memo. Jessica’s fingernails did not care about Katie’s principles; they took Katie’s illusions of resistance away in seconds, and Katie’s hips bucked at the maddening scratches, first along the edge of her heel, then in the middle of her sole. At the same time Mei pinched at her toes, each squeeze making Katie wonder whether she actually had climaxed earlier, they tickled so badly.
Somehow knowing that she had something to lose again made the tickling even worse; The young women’s fingers never stopped threatening Katie’s sense of mental stability and her fears that they could make her desire what she never wanted to desire–three teams of Andromeda girls had proven they could do that–but now Katie feared that they could build on that foundation, could make her betray what she had made of herself when Andromeda’s fingers weren’t tickling her mind away. Mei’s hands departed, and Katie vainly tried to steel herself as Abby got ready to tickle her sole. The evil science of Andromeda’s ticklers did not lose anything when the stakes got higher, and Katie felt her principles, those parts of her that waited for her to escape, to return to her purpose in life after Andromeda had robbed her of her dignity, start to turn.
What if she could help America by tickling instead of by hunting the ticklers?
Abby’s fingers turned up that whisper in Katie’s soul to a roar. Eight flying fingers excited her skin, bubbled up into laughter that Katie could feel as the only thing that remained hers, continued to excite her hips and her abdomen and everything surrounding. Katie looked up at Elizabeth Morton, longed for nothing more than her brown hand between Katie’s pink legs. She could feel her dream of that Pulitzer prize transforming in her soul, becoming a soft bed and Elizabeth’s feet in Katie’s hands and both of them torturing the smooth feet of Jen Chung.
What? Jen Chung?
Jessica let go of Katie’s foot–she had no idea how much time was passing–and felt Mei start to rub the skin along her instep. Katie’s body hit a sexual plateau–the Andromeda girls were taking her right to the edge of orgasm and dangling her there–and the tickling was gaining in intensity, defying Katie’s imagination of just how ticklish her feet could get.
Katie could not tell whether she heard or imagined Elizabeth’s voice, calm and welcoming, say, “You know how to get everything you really want. Just do the right thing.”
“I’LL DO IT!”
The tickling continued.
“I’LL JOIN ANDROMEDA!”
The tickling stopped.
Katie Jones panted in the modified obstetrician’s chair.
“You have no idea how happy that makes me, Katie.”
Katie’s abdomen squeezed a wave of sexual energy downward. Elizabeth was happy. Katie groaned. She had lost any sense of what was an orgasm and what was not.
Elizabeth Morton’s lips were on Katie’s, and Katie drank deeply, the conscious mind that had set out for Kansas to find Traci Carter lying in puddles around the chair.
In a distant corner of Katie’s spirit, a part that before had driven her conscious mind and her journalist’s eye and her vision of justice from invisible places, the final remnant of Katie Jones, Washington reporter, continued to recite her desperate final plans: make them think you’ve joined them, wait for your opportunity, break the story. That part of Katie’s soul looked up in despair and surrendered the last fragment of the old Katie Jones as Jen Chung brought forth a tablet-sized screen and activated it just a few feet in front of Katie..
Katie saw a montage of love-making scenes, some in darkened safehouse bedrooms and some in the luxurious holding cells of Andromeda complexes. In some an athletic Black woman was involved, and Katie’s lust soared as she watched what she wanted to the most. In others a thin East-Asian body grappled and giggled and rose to excitement and exploded in climax. The common thread was that they all starred one Katie Jones.
Jen Chung spoke. “You’re going to be doing more for America inside Andromeda than you ever would have done fighting us, Katie. But just in case that old life comes back demanding control, remember that we have these videos. Andromeda can afford to lose me and Elizabeth as undercover assets–the news story would make federal law-enforcement complacent enough for us to double our presence in their ranks. And Andromeda has work for us out of the undercover world. But your career would end there, Katie. You’d be doing custom fetish videos and guest appearances in Howard Stern’s chair for the rest of your working life.”
“I don’t want that life any more,” Katie whispered. And she meant it.
Jen walked over to where the Andromeda girls had leaned back from Katie’s feet. The politician ran a finger over Katie’s sole as one might sneak an illicit taste of ice cream. Katie giggled at the touch. “I’m so glad to hear that, Katie. And don’t worry–you’re going to have lots of chances to tickle me and get me back for handing you over!”
The prospect of ticklish cruelty excited Katie almost as much as Jen Chung’s finger on her own sole.
Elizabeth Morton addressed unseen spectators in the darkness. “We’re going to get her ready for her trial run now.” She turned back to Katie. “We’’re going to take you back to your room now, Katie. Get some rest–we have a big week ahead of us.”
* * * * * * *
Katie did not fear the hood that they put over her head–resentment was more the sensation. She had given them what they wanted, right? She was going to join them. What was the extra security for? Nonetheless she walked where they wanted her to walk, her flip-flops the only sound in the corridors, her dampened panties beginning to get uncomfortable in the air-conditioning. She could smell her bedroom when they arrived, and she did not have to look around when they took the hood off of her head.
Katie walked over to her dresser to find dry clothes and underwear. The Andromeda agents left the room, and as Katie started to pick out clothes to work out–she needed to sweat for some other reason than laughing her mind away as Andromeda tickled her into treason–the familiar sounds reached her ears.
The Andromeda girls’ shoes squeaked quietly along the hallway.
The transparent door’s hinge swung.
Then nothing.
Katie put down the clothes she was picking out. Could it be real? Katie breathed slowly in through her nose, then out through her mouth, knowing full well that cameras would be watching her.
Can’t look over there.
Can’t look over there.
Katie took off her soiled panties and lingerie and placed them slowly in the laundry chute. She put on cotton panties, then a sports bra, then bicycle shorts and a dri-fit shirt.
Can’t look.
Can’t look.
She put on cotton socks and the tennis shoes she used to exercise on the elliptical, still not looking.
She tied the laces, her eyes forward.
Still no click.
Three.
Two.
One.
Katie Jones turned and walked resolutely towards the transparent cell door. She pulled on the handle, and it opened towards her. Out into the hallway she went, trying to step quietly in her cross-trainers. Nobody seemed to be going here or there as she turned corner after corner, looking desperately for any kind of sign that she was headed for an exit.
She crouched and looked carefully around the third corner, then the fourth. She accelerated to a fast walk as she realized that up ahead she could see stairs leading upward. She ran up them, and the space into which she emerged confirmed Katie’s suspicion: this was an abandoned school of some sort. Katie ran towards a space with different colors than the ones she had seen in the labyrinth of hallways below. Pivoting her head this way and that, one foot crossed behind the other as she crab-stepped across the doorframe, watching for anyone inside. The room’s floors seemed to be some kind of gymnastics mats or maybe the floor of some kind of dojo.
Katie stepped into the room and gasped: along one wall sunlight shone through a bank of windows, and she saw out the window the grand, distant horizon of the Great Plains. She suddenly remembered she had been in Kansas all this time. At the end of the windows she saw a single door with a metal handle for a knob. The outside world was one turn of that handle away.
“You’ll have to get past me to open that door, Katie.”
Katie froze, and she heard another pair of sneakers on the mat. She turned and realized that another woman was in the dojo with her. Katie didn’t recognize her, and she crouched into something like a fighting stance as the woman broke into a short sprint, not at Katie but into the open space between Katie and the door.
“You have no idea what I’ve been through. I’ll kill you if I have to.”
The woman, a blonde with a volleyball player’s build, smirked. “They told me you’d flipped, Katie, but a killer? I almost want to see this.” Katie watched as the athletic woman used the toe of one shoe to remove the other, then a socked foot to take off the remaining shoe. “I don’t even think you can get to that door on me.” Her feet planted, a low fighting stance, and she bounced lightly. Katie saw that she wore desert-camouflage fatigues, and she definitely had something in the cargo pockets.
“I’m going to get out that door. There’s only one of you, and you don’t have any weapons.”
“Try me, sweetie.”
Katie’s hands balled into fists. She shouted and took a short run at the taller woman, pulled one of her hands behind her head, and turned her whole body into a punch. Katie’s punch sailed through the open air–the other woman had turned aside, let Katie’s whole arm go past her, and wrapped a strong arm around Katie’s waist. The woman’s other hand grabbed onto Katie’s ribs and squeezed, and Katie’s knees turned to jelly as she heard herself squeal as the tickling pincher feasted on her side. She thrashed to get away, and as her momentum leaned away from the door, the woman let go, put both palms on Katie’s body, and dropped her weight as she pushed forward. Katie went into a roll and came to rest on the karate mats, looking up at a tile ceiling.
“Try again, Katie! That’s not going to work!”
Katie pulled herself up from the floor. “Who are you?”
“I’m one of Andromeda’s Feather-Agents, Katie. You can call me Alison.”
“Feather-Agents?”
“I was part of a three-woman Andromeda team in North America for seven years, and HQ saw potential in me to do more. So they gave me advanced training, and now I’m one of our international operatives.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me…” Katie’s hands clenched again. She knew that this was going to be her only chance, so knowing full well that she wasn’t going to be any match for the taller, more athletic super-agent, she raised herself up on the balls of her feet and brought her hands up into a fighting guard.
“Let’s make a bet together, Katie. I’m going to give you another chance to get past me. If you can get a hand on the door’s handle, I let you run for an hour before I start tracking you.”
Katie just stared, looking for an opening.
“But if I can get your shoes and socks off, I get to tickle your feet until help comes. How about that?”
Katie’s teeth clenched at the prospect, and she pulled her fist back again, getting ready to throw another giant cowboy punch. But instead of leaning forward into the punch, she dropped her weight and tried to run past Alison towards the door. Alison, still in sock feet, side-stepped into Katie’s path, spread her arms wide, and wrapped both arms around Katie’s thighs. Katie fell forward, her hand reaching desperately for the door but falling yards short. She clawed at the padded floor, tried to propel herself forward, but she could not move the larger woman. And with lightning speed, one of Alison’s hands found its way out from under Katie and onto her bicycle shorts, just where Katie’s leg met her ass.
The squeeze was unbearable; Katie’s arms stopped reaching forward and pawed frantically behind her, trying to get ahold of Alison’s wrist but missing. The hand squeezed and squeezed, working down to the back of her knee and back up to her thigh, and Katie screamed at the tickling. Alison’s other hand latched onto Katie’s hip from behind, and Katie realized that, even though she thought that Andromeda had tickled her in every way that one woman can tickle another, only Alison had grabbed her from behind, and Katie’s inability to anticipate Alison’s pinching and kneading was making her ticklish in ways that the teams of three, with their single-minded focus on her feet, had never done before.
Katie writhed with the tickling, and on one squirm she felt her body roll from prone to supine. Katie lashed out with her sneakers, but once again all she connected with was empty air, and with unnerving speed Allison shoved Katie’s legs to the floor. Then, faster than Katie could react, Alison had slid underneath her bottom, bowed her own legs, and captured Katie’s calves in something like a headlock on each side of her body. Katie could feel Alison’s socked feet start to press in on her sides.
“No… please…”
Alison’s toes dug into Katie’s sides, and Katie’s back arched, her arms slapping wildly at the floor trying to get at Alison’s strong legs. Katie screamed, then fell into helpless roaring laughter as Alison’s feet tickled her body. The reporter’s hands did eventually find purchase on Alison’s thighs, but she had no leverage, and Alison was tickling so brutally that Katie had no strength to try to grapple. As Katie laughed and squirmed, she felt the heel of one of her sneakers sliding off of her foot, then launch out into space, leaving her socked foot exposed. Then the other shoe popped off, but Katie couldn’t bring herself to think that far into the future: Alison’s feet tickled the breath out of Katie, and they would not stop. By the time Katie regained her senses her socks also lay on the floor. Alison released her leg-locks, and she rolled gracefully into a crouch, and then she stood.
“Are you going to give me your feet to tickle now, or am I going to have to truss you up to collect on the bet?”
Katie clutched her too-tickled sides and looked longingly at the door. An arm reached out, and her legs tried to crawl towards that fateful handle.
“That’s my answer, isn’t it?” Reaching into a pocket on the side of her fatigues, Alison pulled out a coil of silk rope, and she quickly pulled Katie’s arms behind her back, tying them to her ankles and leaving Katie’s belly on the mats and her back arched. Katie was aware of her own bare feet as the highest-altitude part of her body, and in this place she knew that was going to be dangerous.
“I just wonder how long it’ll take them to come join us, Katie…” Alison plucked at Katie’s big toe with the thumb and forefinger of one hand, and with the other she made three quick clicking sounds with her thumbnail and the index finger’s nail. Katie had never seen anything like it, but when Alison’s free hand touched Katie’s upturned sole, Katie screamed.
“What are you doing?”
Alison let out a laugh that dripped sexual energy. “You’ve been in three Andromeda facilities, and you’re asking me what I’m doing? You’re something else, Katie Jones!”
Katie screeched as Alison’s fingernails passed slowly up her soles. “This isn’t normal! What are your fingers doing?”
Alison laughed again. “I think you’re just more ticklish than you thought you were, Katie Jones. I hope they don’t take too long finding us–I might just tickle you right out of your skin!”
Whatever was happening to Katie’s feet, she knew this was no ordinary tickling. She fell into panicked, terrified laughter, and she could feel her lungs getting tired already. “Stop! Please stop! I’ll go back to my cell! Tell Elizabeth I’ll go back to my cell!”
“It’s going to take Elizabeth a while to walk to this part of the compound, Katie. And besides, I want to take those famous toes of yours for a test drive!”
Katie didn’t even care that her toes were famous; whatever Alison the Feather Agent was doing, Katie, who mere years before had no sense of what tickle torture was like, was going to lose her mind if those fingers did not let up on her feet. Hogtied on the mats, she squealed and begged as Alison tickled, and when she turned her head to see Elizabeth Morton and three of the younger Andromeda agents come through the door, she immediately cried out to them.
“Elizabeth! Make her stop! Please make her stop!”
“Oh good! You’ve met Alison! She’s going to be coming with us to Veracruz.”
The tickling stopped. Katie, still hog-tied, panted to catch her breath. “Why did you send her after me?”
Morton’s boots were on the mat next to Katie’s body. “Nobody sent Alison, Katie. She was waiting here. You could have stayed in your room.”
“You…”
“...left that door open on purpose? You’d best believe we did. Now we know that you still think you’re part of that world, part of that silly magazine. I don’t think you believe that in your head, but somewhere in your feet you still think that you’re leaving us. Good thing Alison is here to take care of those feet!”
“No, Elizabeth! Please! I’ll go with you to Mexico! Don’t let her tickle me any more!”
“I’m not letting her do anything, Katie. You asked for this when you tried to leave us.”
“Please, no–she’s got some kind of weapon. She makes my feet too ticklish!”
Morton laughed. “You’ll learn more about the tech in her nails later. Right now you need to learn just what she can do to a woman’s body, and you need to learn another lesson about what Andromeda can do do you, body and soul, baby.” Morton gestured to Alison, and Alison’s fingernails descended onto Katie’s heels. At least that much made sense now–not only was Alison a years-long veteran of Andromeda, likely one of the best ticklers who ever lived, but something was going on with her fingernails to make the tickling the worst that Katie, who had endured more tickling than most women in the whole human species, had ever suffered. Katie squealed and laughed and wished that she could be anywhere but on these dojo mats, being tickled to death by this gorgeous Amazon, and Morton watched on as Alison worked those high-tech fingernails between Katie’s toes, making Katie’s vision go blurry in the sheer intensity of the sensations.
Alison’s merciless tickling stopped just as Katie’s vision was starting to go dark, and as she regained her breath, Elizabeth Morton crouched down next to her tied form. “I imagine Alison has told you about Feather Agents, hasn’t she?”
Katie nodded.
“When we’re operating on foreign soil, it’s not always possible to extract a target and bring her to an Andromeda facility like we’ve done with you. So Alison and other Feather Agents are trained to go in and do the work solo. She’s followed so many jolts that she can find them and exploit them even while she’s tickling, and Andromeda gives her special tools that our North American agents don’t have.”
“The nails…”
“Yes, the nails. Each one of her artificial nails has nano-vibration actuators built in at the macromolecular level. When a transmitter in the thumbnail activates, the edges of those nails pick up on the eclectic signals in the nerves of a woman’s feet and throw them out of sync. The result is a tickling that goes way beyond what nature intended.”
Katie nodded again.
“With those babies on your tootsies and a vibrator between your legs, Alison can make a woman wish she were dead in a hurry, and with her enhanced interrogation training, she can get intel from our targets and exfiltrate without having to bring targets in for hours-long interrogations.”
“Like the ones I’ve had.”
“Like the ones you’re still going to get, Katie. You tried to escape, and that’s serious business.”
“Please not the nails again!”
“You’re going to get the nails again, Katie, and the micro-vibrator. She’s going to get you so ticklish you wish you were on fire instead, and you’re going to know what she’s going to inflict on the targets you two seek out when you’re operating internationally.”
“Please… I’ll be good…”
“I know you will, Katie. And the reason I know is because Alison here is going to tickle the last of your old life out of you now. There’s nothing in the world you can do to stop her, and there’s nothing you can offer us that we want more than what comes out the other side. I’m going to be here watching, and in a moment so is Jen Chung, and Alison is going to humiliate you and torture you and make you all Andromeda, all the time. A Feather Agent named Samantha did the same to me years ago, before I got into the DHS, and now it’s your turn. When Alison is done with you, everything you want will be Andromeda, and everything you do from this day forward will be Andromeda.”
“Please…”
“Alison, it’s time to make Katie here Andromeda material.”
“No!”
Even though the nano-nails were effectively silent, Katie thought that she could hear them buzz to life in the cool air of the dojo.
* * * * * * *
Five weeks later, Katie Jones woke up in a cheap hotel in Veracruz. She got up slowly so that Alison could keep sleeping and opened up her secure Andromeda laptop. Gamma Squad’s intel had traced American shipments of Kalashnikovs and rocket launchers to this port, and the figure known as La Baronesa would be waiting to receive the shipment, then get it on trucks to haul inland before separatist guerillas, who had paid handsomely for the ordnance, would distribute it to anti-government fighters.
Interest magazine had received Katie’s resignation, and as far as anyone knew, she had departed the Washington scene, perhaps to resurface later in some distant small town the way that her best-known subject had done. But for once, Katie was on the side of the impending story that knew what was going to happen next. But that would have to wait–Katie and Alison were here to break up the weapons shipment, and La Baronesa would be the weak link.
And that was going to be some ticklish business.
Katie scanned the mission plan for the hundredth time. She couldn’t help but wonder whether some reporter would be interviewing Alison some day, wondering who might have been pulling the strings, never knowing that the one who broke the very first Andromeda story was now making Andromeda stories. But those imaginings would have to wait: La Baronesa was on her way to her own safe-house out in the hills. No Andromeda team would have been able to get inside her house in town–too many armed guards. But today, she only had two thugs with her, and the house was several miles in-land, off a side road.
“Alright, Alison. She’s on the move.” The tall Andromeda agent, her athletic 31-year-old body a thing to behold, rolled over, and she sat up. “Get suited up and hit the road. Our window is about to open.”
“And when I’m done with her, Katie, will you be back here waiting for me?”
Katie smiled in spite of herself. “Would you focus on the mission? It’s time to do what you do!”
Alison wiggled two fingers in the air, and Katie felt herself getting giggly even across the room. “I’m coming back here for you, you know? You’re just too much fun for me to stay away!”
Katie extended a leg away from her chair and wiggled her toes. “Not until the mission is finished, Alison.”
“Okay, but we are not done. I have a date with those feet, Little Mama!.” With that Alison stood up and started to dress herself in jungle fatigues. Katie watched her lean, strong legs slide into the pants and her hands–those hands that had broken Katie time and again–pull on a light jacket. Then she opened a locked case and put a semi-automatic pistol and a silencer in a holster and a holder, followed by a small canteen and some other equipment.
Katie booted up a second computer and started running diagnostics on the surveillance drone that would follow Alison on the road. “I’ve got eyes and ears ready to follow you. Just deploy the drone when you arrive on-site and activate your com.”
“I’ll be thinking of you when I’m tickling her, you know.”
“Would you stop? We have work to do!”
Alison grinned, licked her lips, and laced on a pair of combat boots. Then she took the drone from Katie and made her way out of the hotel room and down to a motorcycle on street level. With the drone strapped to her backpack, she raced off into the streets and towards the road leading out of town.
Back in the hotel room, Katie tracked her tormentor and the target at the same time. “The truck is on-site. When you hear my mark, get yourself hidden and let the squad leave the compound. That will leave you with three targets: La Baronesa and two of her guards.”
Alison responded quietly into her mouthpiece–the motorcycle she rode ran quietly. “Just let me know when to get under cover.”
Katie kept watching, and when the truck stopped, she started a timer on the main computer. The unload, according to their best intel, would take about twenty minutes.
Alison approached the side road leading to the compound. She turned onto the gravel path and started carefully up the hill. The bike wasn’t as fast as a car or a truck once she was off the road, but she could stash it much more easily.
The truck started to move.
“They’re on their way out. Get yourself and the bike off the road, and deploy the drone once they’ve passed.”
Katie waited. The dot on her map representing Alison was not moving from its position a quarter-mile down the side road, but the weapons truck rolled out of the back road and towards the highway.
“They’re past you. Deploy the drone.”
A new interface lit up on Katie’s screen. She quickly plugged a USB controller into one of the side ports and took control of the flying machine. The precision and the size were about what a serious hobbyist might sport–nothing like a Ukrainian tank-killer or any of the missile drones that Alison had seen in action. Katie established a stable hover sixty meters above the hillside.
“I’ve got eyes on you. Climbing and scouting.” Katie maneuvered the drone towards the house and climbed to 100 meters. She could see two guards walking a circuit. “Two guns, one in front and one in back. Get in with the trees at two o’clock front, and I’ll bring gun one to you.”
Alison crossed the gravel road quickly and started to make her way through the thick undergrowth towards the house.
“Gun one coming your way. He’s checking in with gun two. Hold until my mark.”
Alison froze in place and lowered her center of gravity so that nothing was above the tops of the vines and bushes. She heard a man’s voice speaking Spanish, then a reply over a radio. Then silence.
“Mark.”
Now she made her way forward until she came to the edge of the house’s clearing. She could not see the guard yet. “In position.”
“Get ready–he’s coming your way.” Katie maneuvered the drone into a descent directly above the guard, swooping out to his flank just before making impact. The guard, feeling the sudden breeze from above, looked up, then followed the machine’s black shell as it swooped out away from the house, then made way for the treeline. He threw his Kalashnikov over his shoulder, letting the strap hold the rifle as he walked towards the trees and reached for his radio. His eyes never looked down from the drone as he disengaged the radio from his belt.
Tap.
Tap.
Tap tap tap.
Alison ran quietly from cover, slowing only to grab the rifle from the guard’s body and put one more quiet sidearm round into his head before putting her back against the house’s wall. She disengaged the rifle’s safety and crept around the other side of the house.
“I’m going to bring gun two your way. Take him loud. On my mark.”
Alison waited, then heard a man shouting into a radio that he saw an aircraft and needed Javier to get over here.
“Mark.”
Alison ran out from the corner three steps, dropped into a crouch, sighted in, and fired a tight three-round burst into the guard’s upper chest.
He never looked down from the drone.
“Mobile signals jammed. Heading in to spook her. Breach when you hear shots.”
Alison ran back to a first-floor window and waited. Just as the plan went, pistol shots rang out. Alison broke out the window’s dirty glass with a retractable baton as quickly as she could, finishing before the pistol fire ceased. She counted the shots as she worked, and she knew that La Baronesa had expended an automatic pistol’s magazine trying to shoot down the drone. She climbed through carefully, listening for footsteps. When she picked up the sound, she moved quickly and quietly until she found a brown-skinned woman, likewise dressed in jungle camouflage, digging into the drawer in an end-table next to a couch. The mobile phone lay on top of the table.
By the time Alison crossed the distance to engage, she had only just pulled a reload out of the drawer. Before she could eject the empty clip from her weapon, Alison was on her, hooking the arm that held the sidearm and pulling it up, well out of reach of her other hand and of the spare.
The woman screamed, and she struggled to get her hands together and get bullets into the gun. Alison had no such plans. Alison turned and fell backwards onto the couch, still holding the gun-arm but leaving the other arm to flail as her strong hand grabbed a claw-full of La Baronesa’s side. The cartel fixer screamed again, her free hand flailing in the air. Alison, sandwiched between La Baronesa and the couch, never let up on the tickling as she brought her boots up to wrap her own legs around the target’s thighs. Alison’s ankles crossed, and she knew that she had the drug fixer immobilized. She felt the gun-arm weaken as she wrapped her arm around the smaller woman’s torso and dug into the other side of her body.
Then she got the sign that her victory was locked in: La Baronesa started to laugh at the tickling. Alison’s right hand roamed freely over the older woman’s body–the dossier said she was forty-one, and Alison had tickled enough middle-aged women to know that the numbers were on target. They slid off the couch onto the floor, and Alison’s hand never slowed down. With La Baronesa’s right arm raised and right side exposed, Alison squeezed her ribs, pinched the side of her belly, and clawed at her underarm, feeling the strength leave the ticklish woman as she worked. She loosened the hold on the woman’s arm and grabbed her right wrist, seizing complete control of the empty pistol.
“You’d better hold onto that gun, sweetie, or I’m going to tickle you even worse!” As she said so, she began to wrench her wrist violently back and forth. She felt La Baronesa squeeze with all the strength she had, but the tickling had taken too much out of her, and with a handful of whipping motions Alison heard the pistol bounce off of the floor and slide into a corner of the room. Alison rolled with her prey and maneuvered her into a prone position, Alison’s hips against La Baronesa’s lower back.
“Oh no! Now you don’t have your gun, and you’re all ticklish. What’s the big mean American girl going to do to you now?”
“You’re a dead woman. There are more guns coming right now, and when they get here, I’m going to have them take you apart!”
“Nobody’s coming until tonight, and it’s only nine in the morning. Nobody got any messages out, cutie. So I’ve got hours to play with you!” She reached forward and grabbed as much of La Baronesa’s underarms as her hands could squeeze, and the prey’s long black hair thrashed as she shrieked. “And once I get you all trussed up, I’m the one who has a car coming for us. Do you think I can get those boots off of you before she gets here?”
At the mention of her feet, La Baronesa tried to thrash harder, but Alison was larger, and she had free rein to tickle her ribs, turning the fighting and twisting of the smaller woman’s body into tickled writhing. Alison’s hand went to a compartment on her belt with practiced fluidity, and within seconds she had both of La Baronesa’s hands zip-tied behind her back.
“I have the subject subdued and ready for transport. Don’t drive too fast, baby. We’re not in any hurry here.”
“On-site in twenty minutes.”
“I’ll bet I can get her talking before you get here.”
“Just keep the subject subdued.”
“If I do, I’m going to tickle your feet tonight!”
Alison heard an undeniable giggle. “Just keep her secure until I get there.”
She turned back to La Baronesa. “That was my partner just now. Our communications still work. She’s on her way here, and when she gets here, we’re going somewhere that will let us work on you nice and slow, especially those feet.”
“You’re a dead woman!”
“But we’ve got some time now, don’t we? I’ll bet I can get those boots off of you before she gets here!”
“No! Don’t you touch me!”
Alison shifted her weight to the backs of La Baronesa’s thighs and put one hand on each of her hips. With her hands tied together in the middle of her back, the cartel fixer couldn’t move to cover any of her sensitive flesh, and Alison’s hands feasted, squeezing and kneading. As tough as she had proven herself, and as frightening as the men who killed for the cartel found her, these hands, this tickling, was stripping away that mask in seconds. What the strange American was finding, and in a hurry, was the grown version of Maria, the girl from the village, and that girl started to squeal and giggle as Alison kept tickling her hips, then her sides, then pinching at the backs of her legs, just at the tops where they met her bottom. “Can I have your boots now?”
“No! Get away from me!”
“I don’t think you want me to get away from you at all. I think you know how ticklish those feet of yours can get if I can just get my hands on them.” Alison pushed herself up, then quickly twisted around so that she could loop one arm around La Baronesa’s calves. “I’ll bet the boys you have in your bed tickle them a little bit.” She started to unlace one of the boots. “But you know what, honey? Those boys who tickle you just want to get their rocks off and go to sleep. When we get you to where we’re going, I’m going to be awake for hours working on those feet!” The other boot dropped, and Maria felt sure, steady fingers peeling one sock off. “Wait a minute. Boys or girls?”
“Let me go!”
“Oh, okay. Boys. You’re in for a treat today. We’re not going to let you go for some time, baby. Now tell me–just how ticklish are these feet of yours?”
* * * * * * *
Alison entered the room in the safehouse where La Baronesa was still chained to the bed. Sitting far enough away that neither her free hand nor her ticklish feet could reach her, Alison activated a tablet and started a video. The cartel fixer watched herself giggling, begging, promising. None of this was news to her.
But then her mouth opened in shock. The image on the screen, in Spanish, started to give the on-screen Alison a location, a time, the number of guards, and everything that American agents would need in order to intercept the next major shipment of rockets later that day. Furiously she shouted at Alison, “I never told you any of that!”
Alison grinned, her eyes narrowing. “But you did just confirm it. What you’re watching, my ticklish pet, is what’s called Deep Fake video. We’re going to keep you here until ten minutes after the next arms shipment gets hijacked, no matter what. And our CIA team is going to intercept those weapons, no matter what. None of that is in your control. The only thing that you get to decide is what happens to you afterwards. That part is entirely up to you at this point.”
“I’m not going to work for you, American.”
“Then the cartel bosses are going to get this video, and they’re going to know both how ticklish you are and that you gave up that shipment. And my organization is going to make them an offer to torture you for their entertainment, as long as they want, before we hand you over to them to do as they please.”
La Baronesa’s jaw set, but her eyes betrayed fear. “You know they’ll kill me.”
“They don’t have to, honey. Like I said, that’s entirely your choice. We can tell them that a rival cartel killed your guards, that you escaped into the woods when the shooting started, and then my agents can leak to the cartel bosses how the intel really got out. Or at least the story that our real source wants told.”
“How did you really get that intel?”
“The old-fashioned way. The lieutenant in charge of getting the weapons on the truck in Argentina had an affair with an undercover CIA agent, and we threatened to go to his wife’s family with that video. Nasty Italian immigrant family. Rumors that they knew Mussolini personally. Anyway, he was perfectly fine letting the truck driver here in Mexico take the fall. And that’s how we can work things out for you if you go to work for us.”
“Information on the Cartel?”
“With regular check-ins.”
“And you protect me?”
“As much as we can. There are no guarantees in the world we live in, honey, but you’ve got better odds with us than against us.”
“Deal.”
“Not yet. Andromeda stays in the middle, and you come visit with me for your briefings.”
La Baronesa looked at those terrible, tickling hands. She swallowed. “Deal.”
“I’m looking forward to seeing you again, sweetie.”
* * * * * * *
Shutters clicked as Washington photographers captured the three women at the podium, the athletic Black woman and the steel-eyed Korean-American flanking the White reporter who had returned, it seemed from the dead.
Katie Jones read a prepared statement.
“The Secretary of Homeland Security has appointed Jennifer Chung of Boston, Massachusetts, a recent victim of the domestic terrorist group known as Andromeda, to head up a standing task force to investigate the abductions and torture that the group inflicts on American citizens. As you know, I also have been a target of this group, as has Special Agent in Charge Elizabeth Morton.
I have resigned from Interest magazine at Special Agent Morton’s request so that I can act as press liaison for this task force. Director Chung will report directly to the Secretary of Homeland Security, and Special Agent Morton will lead our ongoing counter-terrorist operations. We thank the American people for your vigilance, and rest assured that we will find and apprehend the so-called Epsilon Squadron and make sure that this time they do not escape from custody.”
