Hey all!
I have written a total of 100K words on the complete first Volume of this story as a huge commission! Very exited to share the first chapter with you, if you are interested in buying the complete 100k+ story please DM me or purchase my exclusive tier on @korinamiller on Deviantart!
The story is about 2 huge tribes run by female leaders, since Tickleteria is female dominated. The complete story is filled with brutal and often fatal tickling, the characters are based of real life actors.
Without further adue, here is the first chapter:
Chapter 1 - Tickleteria
Part 1; The Domina’s and Echelons.
"In a world known as Tickleteria, where the ticklish touch was the highest form of power and the feather was mightier than the sword, two dominant tribes emerged from the ashes of many: the Domina and the Echelons. The Domina, formerly referred to as Alphas, were the brutal conquerors led by the formidable Salma Hayek.
The Domina’s history was carved in the battles fought and won, their relentless pursuit of domination leaving a trail of vanquished tribes in its wake. The Zephyrs, known for their swift and agile tickling techniques, were the first to fall. The Cackling Crescents, notorious for their eerie moonlit tickling rituals, soon followed. Each tribe that fell added to the growing power of the Domina, their unique tickling techniques assimilated and honed by the conquerors.
The Domina were not just warriors; they were staunch believers in a unique religion that centered around tickling. They believed in a deity known as Ticklona, the goddess of ticklish laughter. It was said that Ticklona was a mesmerizing woman with the feet of a goddess, the sole of her foot believed to be the birthplace of all ticklish sensations. It was from her that the Domina drew their strength and the will to conquer. Every tribe they vanquished was an offering to Ticklona.
The Domina would capture the most ticklish women from the defeated tribes, their delicate soles offered as tribute. Tickled relentlessly until their laughter ceased, these unfortunate souls met their end as sacrifices to Ticklona, their ticklish laughter echoing in the winds of Tickleteria as a symbol of the Domitia's dominance.
On the other end of the spectrum, the Echelons, or the Betas, were an equally potent tribe, yet their perspective of the world was vastly different from the Domina. They did not seek domination; instead, they strived for balance and coexistence. But the Domina viewed this as a threat, an obstacle in their path of domination. This ideological clash set the stage for a conflict that was waiting to erupt."
The heart of Domina territory was a vast, bustling hub, known to all as the 'Feather Dome'. It was an architectural marvel, a testament to the Dominas' power and dominance. Gleaming in the sunlight, the dome was constructed of iridescent materials that shimmered with every hue imaginable, reflecting off the large body of water surrounding it, creating a surreal aura of authority and control.
Inside the Feather Dome, the atmosphere was palpable with anticipation. The air carried the scent of exotic oils, the murmurs of hushed conversations, and the distant echoes of laughter. The crowd was a sea of women, their eyes gleaming with excitement, their laughter echoing off the dome's walls. Amidst them, men knelt in submission, their bodies marked with the scars of tickle tortures, their eyes downcast, a testament to their domination by the stronger sex.
The floor was carpeted with plush feathers, soft underfoot, and an elaborate chandelier, crafted from delicate quills, hung above. At the center of it all was a large, circular stage. It was here that the tickling rituals and power displays took place, the heart of Domina power, where the ticklish touch was both a form of art and a tool of control.
The leader of the Dominas, Salma Hayek, stood at the edge of the stage, her eyes scanning the crowd. Her presence was as commanding as it was captivating. Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, revealing her high cheekbones and piercing eyes. She exuded an aura of authority, and her reputation for ruthless tickling skills only added to her formidable persona.
Salma was preparing a message, a display of power to remind the Echelons of their place in this world. With each passing moment, the energy in the Feather Dome increased. The Dominas knew that a display was imminent, and the expectation was electric.
Salma's second-in-command, Alexandra Daddario, was by her side.
Alexandra had a contrasting figure with her striking blue eyes and raven hair. Her uniform, a short tunic of deep emerald green, was designed to be both practical and provocative. The garment, cut high on her thighs, displayed her toned legs and allowed for unhindered movement. A belt of woven gold chains cinched the tunic at her waist, emphasizing her slender figure. Her raven hair cascaded down her back, creating a stark contrast with her emerald tunic. Golden anklets adorned her bare feet.
Alexandra was known for her merciless tickling techniques, her ability to reduce the strongest of individuals to helpless laughter. She was the perfect enforcer for Salma's rule, her ruthlessness a stark mirror of the leader's own.
Salma Hayek, the leader of the Dominas, was an equally imposing figure. Clad in a matching uniform, hers a vibrant red, she personified fiery determination and indomitable power. The fabric of her tunic hugged her curvaceous body, flaunting her strength and femininity. A silver belt, adorned with various tickling tools, hung from her waist, each one more intimidating than the last.
Her dark hair was swept back into a high ponytail, exposing her strong features and the steely glint in her eyes. Her bare arms, muscular and commanding, shimmered under the dim glow of the Feather Dome. As she watched Alexandra's display, a sense of pride was evident in her gaze.
As the duo commanded the stage, the chatter in the Dome slowly dimmed, giving way to an expectant hush. The time had come for the Dominas to send their message. The message was clear, and it was embodied in the form of a man, a Beta spy from the Echelons, who was brought forward in chains. His fate, a chilling reminder of the power of the Domitia and their merciless Goddess, Ticklona..
Part 2; The ritual begins.
As the large wooden doors of the Feather Dome creaked open, a hush fell over the crowd. Two Domina guards, their faces masked by the shadows of their hoods, led a man into the chamber. His hands were bound in chains, his face a mask of grim determination as he was guided towards the center stage. His blue clothes and the foreign insignia he wore marked him as an Echelon, a spy who had been captured on Domina territory.
The crowd parted, creating a pathway to the stage. Salma watched with a stoic expression as the man was brought forward. She made a small gesture with her hand, a signal for the guards to halt their progress.
“Bring him,” Alexandra Daddario, the assistant leader, commanded with a voice that echoed through the silence of the Feather Dome. Her piercing blue eyes were fixed on the prisoner, a predatory smile playing on her lips. She turned to Salma, who gave her a curt nod, granting her the lead in this display.
The man was forcefully led up to the stage, where a special chair, known as the 'Tickle Throne', awaited him. It was an ornate piece, made of mahogany and upholstered with soft velvet. But the chair's inviting appearance belied its sinister purpose. The man was forced into the chair, his limbs restrained securely. His ankles were clamped tightly, his feet raised and splayed outwards, leaving his soles completely exposed and vulnerable. His toes were bound stretched, the delicate skin of his underfoot writhing in anticipation of the ticklish ordeal that awaited.
The tension in the Feather Dome was palpable. The crowd watched in anticipation as Alexandra moved towards a table nearby, her fingers tracing over a vast array of tickling tools. She hovered over an assortment of feathers, varying in size and softness, from the small, teasing quills of a hummingbird to the large, firm plumes of an eagle. Beside them lay an assortment of brushes, their bristles ranging from the soft horsehair ones for light, teasing strokes to stiff hog's hair ones for intense tickling. And then there were the specialty tools - the tickling gloves with fingers that vibrated, the electric toothbrushes designed for precision, and the small but mighty tickling wheel, designed to glide over the skin, causing uncontrollable laughter.. Her hand finally rested on a quill, its tip as sharp as a needle, and a set of feathers, their barbs delicate and soft.
Elizabeth Olsen, a silent but equally skilled member of the Dominas, approached Alexandra. Her role in this ritual was to assist Alexandra, to ensure that the power of the Dominas was truly felt. Elizabeth was known for her ability to find the most ticklish spots, her fingers and feathers known to have left many in a state of helpless laughter.
Alexandra turned to the man, her eyes glinting with a mix of anticipation and satisfaction. “You have trespassed on Domina lands,” she said, her voice ringing out clear and cold. “For that, there must be a price to pay.” She leaned closer to his face, her hot breath brushing his ear, "And I'm going to enjoy extracting every last ticklish squeal from you."
The crowd watched in rapt attention as Alexandra approached the man, the quill and feathers in her hands catching the light. Elizabeth stood by her side, her own tools ready. Their eyes met for a moment, a silent agreement passing between them.
In the meantime, Salma addressed the crowd, her voice thundering across the Feather Dome. "Witness the fate of those who cross the Domitia! Let this be a lesson to the Echelons, we will not be disrespected, we will not be taken lightly. We are the daughters of Ticklona, and we will fight till our last ticklish breath."
With that, Alexandra's fingers began their ticklish assault. Starting at the man's heels, she traced her fingers up his arches, the pads of her fingers pressing into the soft skin, causing him to jerk against his restraints. She scraped her nails along his soles, making him gasp and twitch. She dug into the base of his toes, causing him to howl with laughter.
Elizabeth joined in, her feathers dancing on the man's sides and underarms. The soft quills teased his skin, making him squirm and squeal. The Dome filled with the sound of his helpless laughter. The crowd erupted in cheers, the echo of their applause filling the Feather Dome. The man's laughter was a symphony of surrender, a testament to the power of the Domitia, a chilling warning to the Echelons.
The tickling continued relentlessly, the man's laughter growing louder and more desperate with each passing moment.
The relentless tickling continued unabated. Alexandra's nimble fingers, calloused from countless conquests, manipulated the man's hyper-sensitive soles while Elizabeth traced the contours of his underarms with her feathers, each stroke sending him into paroxysms of agonizing laughter. His body writhed in helpless torment, bucking against the restraints in a futile bid for escape. His laughter echoed off the dome's walls, a cacophony of forced mirth and pleading sobs that filled the air with an unsettling harmony.
"Please... Please, no more!" He gasped, the words slicing through his laughter like a blade. His eyes, rimmed with tears of desperation, darted between his tormentors. "Not... not between my toes!"
His pleas were met with smirks of sadistic delight. Alexandra's fingers, moving like a pianist playing a wicked concerto, slipped between his toes, causing his laughter to crescendo into a wail of despair. His body jerked with every ticklish stroke, the sight of his utter helplessness sending ripples of amusement through the crowd.
"I confess!" He blurted out in total panic, his voice ragged and hoarse. "I'm a spy! A... a spy for the Echelons!" He choked on his laughter, his words coming out in between gasps. "I'll... I'll renounce them! I'll... I'll believe in... in Ticklona!"
The mention of their goddess brought an eerie silence over the Feather Dome. All eyes turned to Salma, standing regally with an inscrutable expression. She regarded the man, her gaze as unyielding as the stone walls of the Dome. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was clear and cold, echoing ominously in the silence.
"Belief," she began, her words slicing through the air like a whip, "is not a shield you can hide behind when fear consumes you. It is not a cloak you can don to escape punishment. It is devotion. It is faith. It is love for our goddess, Ticklona."
She turned her piercing gaze to the crowd, her voice ringing with conviction. "This man chose to spy on us, to threaten our way of life. He chose his fate. His pleas of newfound faith are empty, a desperate attempt to escape the punishment he rightly deserves."
As her words echoed in the silence, the man's pleas turned into quiet sobs, his body shaking with fear and exhaustion. His laughter had ceased, replaced by a pitiful whimpering. His fate was sealed. The leader of the Dominas would show him no mercy.
The man's pleas for mercy turned frantic, each word tumbling over the other in a desperate symphony of terror. His eyes, wide with dread, locked onto Salma's, searching for a shred of sympathy, a glimmer of mercy. But all he found was a cruel, triumphant smirk.
"You've said enough," Salma declared, her voice echoing through the Feather Dome. Her gaze never leaving the man, she extended a hand towards Elizabeth. "Gag him. Let him save his apologies for Ticklona."
The crowd watched in silent anticipation as Elizabeth obeyed, reaching for a piece of soft leather attached to a wooden bit. The gag was simple in design, but it carried a sinister purpose. With swift and practiced movements, she approached the man, the crowd parting for her.
His pleas grew more frantic, morphing into a panicked babble. "No... please... I beg you... I'll... I'll do anything... please..." His words were cut off as Elizabeth approached, the gag in her hands.
"Just one more word," Salma purred, her tone laced with sadistic glee. She lowered herself in front of him, her eyes gleaming with wicked anticipation. "One last plea before you meet Ticklona."
He took a shuddering breath, his gaze darting between the two women. "Please," he whispered, his voice trembling.
But his plea fell on deaf ears. With a swift motion, Salma forced the gag into his mouth, silencing his pleas. His eyes bulged with fear and surprise, his body jerking against the restraints. But the laughter... the laughter continued to bubble out from behind the gag. It was a sound that echoed through the Feather Dome, a haunting melody of uncontrolled mirth and despair.
The crowd erupted into cheers, the echo of their applause filling the Feather Dome. The sight and sound of the man's helpless laughter was a satisfying symphony to their ears. To them, it was a testament to the power and dominance of the Domitia, a reminder of the fate that awaited those who dared to cross them. Their laughter joined his, a chorus of triumphant mirth that resonated through the Feather Dome, a haunting serenade to the ticklish torment that awaited the Echelons.
Amid the raucous laughter and applause, Alexandria ceased her relentless tickling, her fingers hovering above the trembling soles of the man. The cessation of the tickling was like the unexpected silence in the eye of a storm, causing the man to gasp in a mixture of relief and dread. His laughter died on his lips, his body still convulsed, and his eyes wide and pleading, glanced between Alexandria and Elizabeth. Their wicked smiles held an unspoken promise - his ordeal was far from over.
Alexandria rose from her position, her gaze locking with Salma’s in a silent conversation only the leaders of the Domitia understood. A nod from Salma was all it took for Alexandria to turn her attention back to the captive man.
The Feather Dome fell into a hushed silence as she cleared her throat. When her voice echoed through the grand enclosure, it held an authority that demanded absolute attention. "His laughter," she began, her tone laced with a cruel sort of amusement, "is the sweetest song to our ears. Each plea, each desperate gasp... it’s a melody Ticklona herself would revel in."
She took a step back, her eyes sweeping over the crowd, a flicker of anticipation in her gaze. "This intruder," she continued, her voice resounding throughout the Dome, "has proven himself a worthy offering to our goddess. He has laughed, he has begged, he has confessed. Now, it is time for him to meet Ticklona in her divine laughter-filled abode."
Excitement crackled through the crowd, every woman hanging onto her words, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. The men, while dominated and voiceless, gazed upon the spectacle with a complex blend of emotions. Their eyes, wide and filled with awe, were fixed upon Alexandria. Despite their helpless status, they couldn't help but admire her, their hearts filled with a mixture of fear and reverence. To be dominated by these women was not a punishment, but a privilege, one they wished to earn with every fiber of their being. The man had deserved this punishment.
Alexandria raised her hands, palms up in a dramatic gesture. "He will laugh his way to her," she declared, her voice clear and resonant. "He will be judged for his transgressions, for his audacious trespass into our lands. And Ticklona... our Ticklona will decide his fate."
She then turned to the man, her gaze piercing through him, "In her divine presence, may your laughter be your confession, your punishment, and your redemption. Your betrayal to the Echelons will be your offering to Ticklona. May the ticklish touch of our goddess guide your path to the afterlife."
With that, she stepped back, leaving the man to the mercy of the crowd. As she stepped back, a collective gasp filled the Feather Dome, soon followed by the excited whispers of anticipation. The women descended upon the captive like a pack of wolves, their fingers eager and unrelenting. The man's laughter escalated, becoming louder and more frantic, the echoes reverberating around the Dome until it reached a deafening crescendo.
For the next half an hour, the Dome was filled with the man's muffled laughter and the cruel, rhythmic sounds of tickling. Every ticklish spot was exploited mercilessly by the Domitia. The man's body twitched and jerked, his eyes filled with a horror that gradually gave way to a vacant resignation.
His laughter, initially desperate and fearful, eventually turned into a continuous, horrifying melody of a man being tickled beyond the brink of sanity. Every gasp for breath, every futile attempt to pull away, only spurred the women on, their fingers dancing tirelessly over his body, drawing out the laughter that was his life force and offering it to Ticklona.
As the laughter gradually died out, replaced by the man's final wheezing breaths, Salma stood, her gaze sweeping over the crowd one last time. A sense of contentment washed over her as she observed the ritual's culmination. Yet, hidden beneath her satisfaction, a seed of worry had been planted. The progress that Echelons had made was a cause for concern. With a final nod to her tribe, she exited the Feather Dome, leaving the echo of laughter and the memory of a successful ritual behind her, her mind already strategizing the next steps in the ongoing battle against the Echelons.
Part 3; The start of a mission
The revelation of the Echelons' progress was a cause for concern, a worrisome thorn in the side of the Domitia's otherwise unchallenged rule. As Salma emerged from the Feather Dome, the echoes of laughter and the memory of the ritual were still reverberating through the air. The sun had just started to dip below the horizon, casting long, eerie shadows that stretched across the Feather Dome. As she walked back to her grand palace, the air was filled with the chilling melody of the evening song, a reminder of the merciless ticklish ordeal that had taken place earlier that day.
The spy's body, now devoid of any laughter, served as a grim trophy of their victory. Salma had ordered it to be preserved and prepared for the delegation's journey, a chilling warning for the Echelons of the fate that awaited any who dared defy the Domitia.
As dawn broke the next day, Salma convened a meeting inside her grand palace. The grand hall, usually filled with laughter and jovial chatter, was now echoing with the serious discussions of war. The Alphas, under the leadership of Salma, were gathered around the large round table, their faces etched with determination and concern. At the head of the table, Salma stood tall, her gaze sweeping over her trusted warriors. The two figures beside her, Ana de Armas and JoAnna Garcia Swisher, emanated an air of unwavering resolve, prepared for the task ahead.
The pair were chosen to lead the delegation to the Echelons, carrying with them the body of the spy, a testament to the power of the Domitia and a warning of the fate that awaited the defiant. The sight of the deceased spy, his once vibrant eyes now hollow, his body still showing the signs of the relentless tickling torment, was enough to send shivers down the toughest of spines.
As Salma addressed the room, her voice echoed off the grand walls. "It's time for the Echelons to understand the true might of the Domitia. They need to witness the consequences of their defiance, the repercussions of their insolence."
A murmur of agreement resonated through the grand hall, echoing Salma's sentiment. The Echelons' resistance, their unyielding defiance, had been a lingering menace, a persistent hurdle in the path of the Domitia's ultimate domination.
As Salma addressed the room, her voice echoed off the grand walls. "It's time for the Echelons to understand the true might of the Domitia. They need to witness the consequences of their defiance, the repercussions of their insolence."
A murmur of agreement resonated through the grand hall, echoing Salma's sentiment. The Echelons' resistance, their unyielding defiance, had been a lingering menace, a persistent hurdle in the path of the Domitia's ultimate domination.
"But remember," Salma continued, her eyes gleaming with a hint of something akin to respect, "The Echelons are led by Kelly Hu. She is as strong as she is serene, commanding respect and power. She keeps her people in check with an uncanny blend of peace and ticklish discipline. Underneath her tranquil exterior, she possesses a formidable will and is as resolved as any of us. She's also known to have the most tantalizingly ticklish tactics at her disposal."
Salma's gaze hardened as she directed her attention to Ana and JoAnna. "You both have proven your loyalty, your strength, time and again. Your capabilities, your determination, have brought pride to the Domitia. Now, it is upon you to carry our message to the Echelons. Demand their surrender, or they shall face the fate of their lost spy."
Salma's gaze hardened as she directed her attention to Ana and JoAnna. "You both have proven your loyalty, your strength, time and again. Your capabilities, your determination, have brought pride to the Domitia. Now, it is upon you to carry our message to the Echelons. Demand their surrender, or they shall face the fate of their lost spy."
The declaration hung heavy in the air, the weight of their mission settling upon their shoulders. Ana and JoAnna, understanding the gravity of their task, responded with a firm nod, their resolve unwavering.
"May Ticklona guide your path," Salma bestowed her blessing, her hand resting on each of their shoulders, a silent promise of support and trust. "Remind the world why the Domitia are feared."
As they embarked on their journey, the grand doors of the palace closing behind them, Salma watched from her balcony. The faith she had in Ana and JoAnna was unwavering, but she was acutely aware that the road ahead was fraught with challenges. The Echelons were a formidable foe, their progress a looming threat, but the Domitia were ready to meet them head-on, to assert their power and to quell any resistance that dared to rise against them.
Part 4; The trip to Echelon
As the grand doors of Salma's palace receded in the distance, Ana and JoAnna set off on their journey, their horses trotting in a steady rhythm. The spy's body, securely tied to the back of Ana's horse, was a chilling presence that served as a grim reminder of their mission. The journey to Echelon territory was a long one, a three-day ride through uncharted wilderness and treacherous terrain. But the two women were not strangers to adversity; they were warriors, bred and trained for such challenges.
Ana, her blonde tresses braided and tucked beneath a hooded cloak, maneuvered her horse with practiced ease, her eyes scanning the horizon. "Three days," she murmured, her voice just loud enough for JoAnna to hear over the soft clattering of hooves. "Three days till we reach Echelon territory."
JoAnna, her fiery red hair flowing in the wind, nodded, her grip tightening on the reins. "Three days to prepare our speech, to ready ourselves for their reaction," she responded, her voice steady.
The tension between the Echelons and the Domitia was palpable, even in this secluded wilderness. But despite the gravity of their mission, the two women found comfort in their camaraderie, their shared experiences creating a bond that was as strong as their unwavering loyalty to the Domitia.
As the day wore on, the landscape around them gradually changed. The dense forests gave way to open fields, the wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze. They slowed their horses to a walk, taking a moment to rest and rejuvenate.
As they made camp for the night, the stars serving as their only light, Ana and JoAnna huddled together, their horses grazing nearby. The fire crackled and danced, casting a warm glow on their faces. They were warriors, but beneath the strong exterior, they were also women, with their hopes, fears, and dreams.
"I wonder," Ana began, her voice barely above a whisper, "what it would be like if we didn't have to deal with the Echelons. If we could live in peace."
JoAnna sighed, her gaze fixed on the flickering flames. "Peace is a luxury, Ana," she replied, her voice heavy. "A luxury we can't afford. Not now."
Ana nodded, her thoughts drifting to the spy whose lifeless body lay a few feet away. "You're right, JoAnna. We are Domitia. We are warriors. It's our duty to fight for our tribe, to protect our people."
JoAnna turned to look at Ana, her eyes reflecting the firelight. "And we will, Ana. We will fight. We will carry our message to the Echelons, and we will demand their surrender. And if they refuse..." She glanced at the lifeless body of the spy, a grim reminder of their power. "...they will face the wrath of the Domitia."
The declaration hung in the air, the gravity of their mission settling heavily on their shoulders. But despite the daunting task ahead, they found solace in their shared resolve, their shared loyalty to the Domitia.
As they drifted off to sleep, their bodies huddled close for warmth, the crackling fire their only company, their thoughts were filled with their mission, their determination unwavering. They were Domitia, the formidable warriors of Ticklona, and they would not fail. They would carry their message to the Echelons, and they would demand their surrender. For they were the Dominas, the protectors of the Feather Dome, the ruthless ticklers, and the guardians of their people. And they would let nothing stand in their way.
As the second day dawned, the wilderness awakened to the sound of hoofbeats. Ana and JoAnna, astride their powerful steeds, were silhouettes against the golden sunrise. The echo of their horses' hooves against the hard ground was a steady rhythm, a testament to their unwavering determination. They knew they were drawing closer to Echelon territory, and they prepared themselves for the potential encounters that lay ahead.
Their preparations proved useful when, by midday, they found their path blocked by three Echelon warriors. Clad in form-fitting tunics of bright blue that complimented their curvaceous figures, the women stood firm, their postures radiating power and dominance. Their leader, Kelsey Asbille, had a fierce beauty about her, her dark eyes sharp and probing as she scrutinized the Dominas.
"State your purpose," Kelsey demanded, her voice echoing off the surrounding cliffs. Her gaze never wavered from Ana and JoAnna, assessing them with a calculated calmness.
"We come bearing a message from Salma, leader of the Domitia," Ana responded, meeting Kelsey's gaze with an unwavering one of her own. There was a pause, and Ana could see the recognition in the Echelon's eyes at the mention of Salma's name.
"We're familiar with your Salma and her methods," Kelsey retorted, her voice cold. "We won't be intimidated."
"It's not about coercion, but a choice. Peace or repercussions," JoAnna added, her tone steady in spite of the escalating tension.
The silence that followed was soon broken by Kelsey's scoff, "And if we prefer repercussions?"
Kelsey, the Echelons' leader, countered with a scoff. Her eyes gleamed with defiance, "And if we prefer repercussions?"
Part 5; Repercussion
The question hung in the air like a loaded arrow. The silence was shattered as the Echelons made their move. The horses reared, whinnying in alarm as the three Echelon women launched themselves at Ana and JoAnna. The swift ambush caught the Dominas off guard, dislodging them from their saddles. Despite their best efforts to regain control, the element of surprise tilted the scales in the Echelons' favor.
JoAnna was the first to hit the ground, her body pinned beneath an Echelon warrior. Her emerald tunic hiked up slightly, exposing a strip of her toned midriff. The Echelon straddled her, effectively immobilizing her, her warm weight pressing JoAnna into the cool earth.
Simultaneously, Ana found herself in the grip of the other two Echelons. Their strong hands seized her arms, pushing them above her head, while their booted feet ensnared her legs. Even in their dire situation, Ana and JoAnna locked eyes, a wordless pact of resistance solidified in that fleeting gaze.
As the tickling commenced, their captors' expressions were a twisted blend of sadistic pleasure and grim determination. Kelsey, her nimble fingers dancing across Ana's bare soles, flashed a cruel smirk, "Ever wondered what it feels like, Ana?"
Ana squirmed, her breath hitching as she fought to suppress the laughter bubbling in her throat. JoAnna too, was trapped in a similar struggle. The Echelon atop her was relentless, her fingers exploring every ticklish inch of her exposed midriff.
Their resistance, however, was beginning to fracture under the tickling onslaught. The first strains of stifled laughter began to leak from their lips, betraying their cracking resolve.
"So, Ana," Kelsey's voice cut through the strained silence that had fallen over the field, her tone casual yet laden with menace, "Why don't we start with Salma's next move?" Her fingers continued to torment Ana's bare soles, tracing intricate patterns that elicited choked gasps and suppressed giggles.
Ana's eyes sparked with rebellion, her body writhing in a futile attempt to escape the relentless tickling. Despite the laughter threatening to spill over, she managed to rasp out, "We... we won't betray... Salma."
Kelsey merely chuckled at this, the sound chilling in its mirth. Her fingers stilled momentarily on Ana's feet, a deceptively gentle touch that was a stark contrast to the situation. "Well, we'll see about that," she declared, her voice dripping with confidence.
With a swift movement, Kelsey disengaged from Ana, leaving her panting and twitching from the residual ticklish sensations. She sauntered over to JoAnna, her predatory grin never wavering. "And you, JoAnna," she purred, her fingers already starting to dance along JoAnna's sides, "You're quite the brave one, aren't you?"
JoAnna's body immediately tensed under the onslaught, a gasp of surprise escaping her lips. She shot Kelsey a determined glare, her voice tremulous as she echoed Ana's sentiment, "We... we will never... tell you anything."
Kelsey laughed at this defiance, the sound resonating through the open field like a chilling melody. "Oh, we'll see about that," she mimicked her previous statement, her fingers intensifying their ticklish assault. JoAnna's face contorted, her body bucking in response, the sound of her restrained laughter filling the air.
The Echelon warriors flanking Ana grinned at the spectacle, their fingers resuming their tickling assault with renewed fervor. The silence of the field was replaced with laughter, gasps, and the cruel taunts of the Echelons. Their interrogation was a spectacle of cruelty and defiance, a dance of ticklish torment that pushed the limits of the Dominas' resilience. The anticipation of a potential crack in their armor fueled the Echelons' glee, their actions radiating a sadistic pleasure at the prospect of a possible betrayal.
The field resonated with the eerie symphony of suppressed laughter and spiteful taunts. Kelsey, the orchestrator of this relentless torment, had switched her focus back to Ana. She ran her nails, sharp and threatening, along the arches of Ana's bare feet. Each stroke elicited a jolt from Ana, her body convulsing as waves of ticklish sensations threatened to overwhelm her.
"Never... give in, JoAnna," Ana managed to gasp out between strained laughter, her gaze locked with her companion's. Her eyes shimmered with a mix of agony and defiance, the spirit of the Dominas burning brightly despite their dire situation.
JoAnna, her own body writhing under the continuous tickling assault, responded with a resolute nod. "I won't... Ana. We won't," she promised, each word punctuated with a strangled giggle.
Kelsey's laughter echoed around them, a chilling melody that heightened the sense of dread. "We'll see who breaks first," she taunted, her fingers resuming their cruel dance on Ana's soles. Her nails skated over the soft flesh, each scrape pulling forth a fresh wave of laughter from the captive Domina.
Despite the escalating torment, Ana remained steadfast. Her laughter was strained, her body writhed, but her spirit refused to bend. The raw determination in her eyes never wavered, her gaze continuously seeking JoAnna's. Their unspoken communication, a testament to their solidarity, bolstered their resolve.
"Let's see how much more you can take, Ana," Kelsey challenged, her fingers working with ruthless precision. She traced the delicate spaces between Ana's toes, her nails scraping over the sensitive flesh. The intensity of the tickling elicited a strangled scream from Ana, her body thrashing in a desperate bid for respite.
Still, no secrets were spilled, no plans revealed. The Dominas held their ground, their laughter echoing around the field like a testament to their unwavering resolve. Their captors' interrogation only seemed to harden their resolve, the stakes of their mission etching a clear line of defiance in their laughter-filled pleas.
The Echelons, with Kelsey at their helm, relentlessly continued their sadistic pursuit. The tantalizing lure of breaking the resilient Dominas spurred them on, their sinister mirth echoing across the clearing. But the fortitude of the Dominas was an opposing force, their unyielding spirit a beacon of defiance amidst the growing adversity. It was a precarious balance, a ruthless dance of persistence and rebellion, the resolution of which hung in the delicate balance.
Kelsey, with a wicked glint in her eyes, suddenly produced a small brush, its bristles glistening with oil under the fading sunlight. Ana's eyes widened in horror as the brush descended, making contact with the arch of her bare foot. The resulting sensation was overwhelming, causing her body to convulse violently as uncontrollable laughter spilled from her lips.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOOO- Please... Kelsey... stop… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Ana managed to gasp out amidst her hysteria, her voice shaking with the intensity of her laughter. But Kelsey remained unmoved, her face wearing a sadistic smile as she calmly continued to torment Ana's most vulnerable spot.
"So, Ana," Kelsey began, her voice eerily calm amidst the cacophony of laughter, "Ready to share Salma's plans?" The brush continued its ruthless assault, the bristles sliding over the arch with an agonizing precision, amplifying Ana's ticklish torment.
"No... Ana... don't!" JoAnna screamed out, her voice echoing through the clearing. She strained against her captors, her body thrashing in a futile attempt to reach Ana. "Don't tell them anything!"
Ana's pleas for mercy turned into desperate sobs, her laughter intensifying with each stroke of the brush. "Stop… HAHAHAHA please… HAHAHAHAHAHAHA tickle- JoAnna… HAHAHAHAHA stop..." Her words were barely coherent amidst her laughter, her body convulsing with every relentless stroke of the brush.
But just as it seemed Ana was on the brink of capitulation, a sudden surge of adrenaline coursed through her. With a roar of defiance, she thrashed violently beneath the Echelon sitting on her. A brief struggle ensued, and then, with a triumphant yell, Ana managed to free herself from her captor's hold, sending the Echelon warrior sprawling onto the ground. The brush slipped from Kelsey's hand, landing in the dust
Still gasping for breath, Ana's eyes were ablaze with determination. The Echelons were momentarily stunned, their cruel laughter replaced by shocked silence. Seizing the opportunity, Ana lunged towards JoAnna, her movements swift and decisive.
With a burst of strength, Ana pushed the Echelon pinning JoAnna down. The surprise of the push caught the Echelon off guard, and she tumbled away from JoAnna, who was now free.
Ana quickly extended a hand towards her fellow Domina, pulling her to her feet. "We need to leave. Now!" she said, her voice urgent. Nodding in agreement, JoAnna quickly scanned their surroundings, her gaze landing on their horses.
Their horses were still standing where they'd left them, their reins loosely tied around a nearby tree. They hurried towards them, their movements swift despite their exhaustion. Unfastening the reins, they quickly mounted, their bodies screaming in protest after the prolonged tickling ordeal.
With the wind tearing at their hair and the adrenaline rushing in their veins, Ana and JoAnna galloped away from the clearing, leaving the stunned Echelons behind. The cool evening air was a stark contrast to their heated bodies, the lingering echoes of ticklish torture still throbbing on their skin.
"You'll pay for this, Echelons!" Ana shouted back at the receding figures, her voice resonating with the promise of retribution. JoAnna echoed her sentiment, her voice filled with a steely determination that matched Ana's, "We will bring Salma's wrath upon you!"
Their shouts echoed through the quiet forest, the words carried by the wind to the Echelons left behind. Their threats, though spoken in the heat of the moment, were no empty promises. They knew that Salma would not take this lightly, and the Echelons would indeed face her wrath.
The horses maintained their swift pace, their hooves thundering against the soft forest floor, each stride taking them further away from their captors. The twilight sky was streaked with purples and pinks, the onset of night casting long shadows across the forest.
For a while, they rode in silence, the only sounds being the rhythmic pounding of the horses' hooves and the occasional call of a nocturnal creature. The silence was not uncomfortable but filled with a mutual understanding, a shared experience that had left them with a profound respect for each other.
"You okay?" Ana finally broke the silence, glancing at JoAnna with a concerned expression. Despite the fading sunlight, she could see the redhead nodding, her lips curving into a small, tired smile.
"I'm alright, Ana. Just a bit shaken, that's all," JoAnna replied, her voice firm, her gaze steady. "But we must inform Salma immediately."
"I agree," Ana said, her jaw set in determination. "We can't let them get away with this."
As the night drew closer, they pressed on, their resolve unbroken, their spirits undeterred. The journey to the Echelon territory was long and arduous, but they were prepared for it. They had faced adversity before, and they would do so again.
As they neared their destination, their conversation shifted to strategizing their next steps. They spoke in hushed tones, their words carried away by the wind, their plans a guarded secret. Despite their recent ordeal, their commitment to their mission remained unwavering, their resolve bolstered by their shared experience.
In the heart of the night, they finally arrived at the border of the Echelon territory. Exhausted but undeterred, they dismounted their horses, their hearts pounding in their chests. They had survived their ordeal, and now, it was time to deliver their message, a message that carried the promise of retribution and the unyielding spirit of the Dominas.
As the morning sun began to rise, Ana and JoAnna ventured into Echelon territory. Their destination was the Echelon's home base, aptly named the 'Laughter Lagoon.' This unique settlement presented a striking contrast to the Domina's Feather Dome, reflecting the more peaceful nature of the Echelon society.
The Laughter Lagoon was a sight to behold. Built from a unique, shimmering blue stone, the city glowed under the morning light, resembling a calm sea under a clear sky. The architecture was a testament to the Echelons' approach to life, focusing on harmony and balance rather than dominance and control.
The entrance to the Lagoon was a large archway, carved with delicate feather designs. This served as a symbol of the Echelons' belief in using tickling as a tool for persuasion rather than violence. The paths leading into the city were lined with beautiful green plants, creating a welcoming atmosphere.
The city itself was filled with open spaces, gardens, and courtyards. Buildings were spread out, offering plenty of room for the inhabitants. The sound of flowing water from fountains and ponds added to the overall peaceful feeling of the place.
Even though Ana and JoAnna were used to a more aggressive environment, they couldn't help but appreciate the tranquility of the city. However, they weren't there to admire the view. They had a mission to carry out. With determination in their eyes, they rode on, ready to deliver their message to the Echelons. The journey into the heart of the Laughter Lagoon had almost come to an end.
As they delved further into the city, Ana and JoAnna couldn't ignore the unique beauty of its inhabitants. The women of the Echelons, predominantly of Asian heritage, had an elegance that was as entrancing as it was discreet. Clad in flowing blue tunics, they moved with an effortless grace that was akin to a gentle breeze or a calm stream. Their outfits were simple, yet dignified, reflecting the tranquility of the city they called home.
Their features were delicate, their almond-shaped eyes sparkling with intelligence and warmth. A variety of hairstyles adorned their heads, from sleek, straight locks to elaborate braids, each one a testament to their individuality. The skin of the Echelon women remained untouched, maintaining a natural and soft elegance.
Among the women, the Echelon men existed in a state of serene submission. They wore only the simplest of garments, a kind of minimalistic underwear that left little to the imagination. Their heads were lowered as they moved among the women, their actions reflecting their acceptance of their place in this society.
Even as they were engulfed by the peaceful energy of the city, Ana and JoAnna felt a strange sense of familiarity. The Echelon society, although distinct in many ways, shared the foundational belief in female dominance, much like their own.
However, they were here with a purpose, a mission that demanded their focus. Even amidst the serene beauty of the Echelon city, they knew they needed to stay alert and committed to their objective. Their journey into the heart of Echelon was turning out to be as enlightening as it was formidable.
Part 6; Kelly Hu, leader of the Echelons
Ana and JoAnna strode through the Laughter Lagoon of the Tickle Oasis, their eyes drinking in the scenery with a mix of awe and caution. They knew who resided here, the leader of the Echelons, the formidable Kelly Hu. They had heard tales of her calm yet ruthless command, her ability to balance peace with power. Yet, they were on a mission, a mission that demanded audacity and resolve.
As they neared the heart of the Lagoon, the building that housed the Echelon leader, their resolve hardened. They couldn't afford to be swayed by the serenity around them, not when they had a dire message to deliver. Entering the grand structure, they were met with an air of calm authority.
In the centre of the room, on a high-backed chair, sat Kelly Hu. She was an embodiment of the Echelon ethos - a woman of power who carried an air of serenity. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, contrasting against her elegant blue robes. Yet, there was an undeniable strength in her gaze, a quiet intensity that spoke of her capability to rule and reign.
Ana and JoAnna moved forward, a steely determination in their eyes. They knew they had to be firm, even rude, if they were to get their message across.
"We've come a long way, Kelly Hu," Ana began, her voice echoing in the grandeur of the room. "We're here to deliver a message from Selma."
"And it's not a message of peace," JoAnna added, her tone equally stern. "We demand your surrender."
A murmur ran through the room, but Kelly Hu remained unperturbed. Her gaze met theirs, steady and unyielding.
Before she could reply, Ana continued, "As a proof of our commitment, we've brought something." She gestured, and Ana called her horse. It dragged in the lifeless body of the spy, a grim testament to the Dominas' determination.
There was a collective gasp from the Echelons present, but Kelly’s expression remained calm. The room fell silent, all eyes on her, waiting for her response.
Kelly rose from her throne, her presence a calm amidst the storm. She was an imposing figure, standing with an aura of serene authority. Her long, raven-black hair cascaded down her back, her features radiating a tranquil beauty.
Her feet, bare and delicately shaped, were the epitome of elegance, the smooth arches and slender toes a testament to her poised composure. Her toes, manicured to perfection, bore no color, a symbol of her humble, yet firm, leadership. A couple of silver toe rings adorned her feet, glittering under the soft light, accentuating her regality.
Her voluptuous figure, accentuated by her tailored blue silk robe, held an irresistible allure. The robe, designed to celebrate her femininity, clung to her figure and subtly outlined her ample bosom. The low neckline of the robe offered a glimpse of her cleavage, a perfect contrast to her otherwise modest attire.
Dangling from her ears were a pair of distinctive earrings. Each was artfully shaped into tiny silver feathers, their delicate details sparkling in the soft light. At the base of each feather, a small sapphire was embedded, its deep blue hue reflecting the tranquil strength of the Echelons. As Kelly moved, the earrings swayed gently.
Her voice, when she finally spoke, was as calm as the placid lake outside their sanctuary. "Fear not, my people. The Dominas' threats are nothing but an echo of their insecurities. They are trying to intimidate us with their crude methods and aggressive tactics."
She paused, letting her words sink in, her gaze sweeping across the room, making eye contact with as many of her people as she could. "We, the Echelons, stand for peace. We believe in the power of tranquility and harmony. We won't let the Dominas shatter our beliefs with their war cries and tickling torture."
The room filled with a mix of responses. There was applause, echoing Kelly's sentiment, but it was also tinged with uncertainty. The Echelons admired Kelly, respected her, but they also knew they lacked the ruthless determination of the Dominas. Their belief in peace was unwavering, but the threat of war, of ticklish torment, was daunting.
Kelly sensed their hesitation, their fear. "It's natural to feel afraid," she acknowledged, her voice soft yet firm. "But remember, we are Echelons. We stand for peace, but we will not back down. If it's a war they want, then we will meet them on our terms, not theirs. We will not succumb to their ticklish torment."
As her words echoed throughout the Laughter Lagoon, a renewed sense of resolve sparked amongst her people. They might not have the ruthless aggression of the Dominas, but they had something equally powerful - unity and unwavering faith in their leader.
With the silence of the room hanging heavy, Kelly addressed Ana and JoAnna directly. "You have entered our sanctuary with disrespect and arrogance, expecting us to bow to your demands," she stated, her voice steady and assertive. "This was a grave mistake."
She turned her gaze to two women standing at her side. "Jamie, Moon," she called out, her tone commanding yet calm. "Show our guests the consequences of their insolence."
Jamie Chung and Moon Bloodgood stepped forward, the intensity in their eyes matching that of their leader. Jamie, with her petite figure and delicate features, was a beautiful contrast to the tall, athletic Moon. Both women wore outfits similar to their leader, except their robes were adorned with feathers at the hems, a signature of their status as Kelly's trusted commanders.
Jamie's sharp eyes, a captivating shade of brown, held an air of quiet determination. Her dark hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, revealing her high cheekbones and delicate jawline. Moon her athletic physique was evident even beneath her robe, hinting at her strength and agility.
Part 7; The Challenge of the Domina warriors
Moon Bloodgood and Jamie Chung, two of the most esteemed warriors of the Echelons, stepped forward, their faces calm but determined. They were renowned not only for their beauty but also for their tickling prowess, known to evoke the deepest laughter from even the most stoic individuals.
Seven Echelon soldiers, clad in their traditional silk garments, moved swiftly, encircling Ana and JoAnna. The soldiers were swift and efficient, their movements practiced and synchronized. Within moments, Ana and JoAnna found their hands securely tied behind their backs and their ankles bound together. Their resistance was futile against the combined strength of the Echelon women.
Kelly watched as her orders were carried out, her gaze never leaving the two Dominas. "Treat them with the same ruthlessness that their tribe is known for," she commanded, her voice cold. Her command held an underlying message - a clear display of power and dominance, a warning to those who dared challenge the Echelons.
Moon and Jamie approached the bound Domina representatives. Their expressions remained calm, their serene demeanor contrasting starkly with the task at hand. Moon knelt beside JoAnna, her fingers hovering over the soles of the captive's bare feet, while Jamie stood near Ana, her hands poised to begin the tickling torture.
The room filled with a chilling silence as the Echelon soldiers watched. The peace of the Laughter Lagoon was about to be disrupted, replaced with the laughter of the tortured Dominas. And through it all, the Echelon women remained calm and collected, their peaceful nature undisturbed even as they prepared to unleash their tickling wrath on their captives. The tickle torture was about to commence, a clear message to the Dominas - disrespect the Echelons at your own peril.
As the Echelon soldiers secured their bonds, Ana and JoAnna began to protest, their voices filled with defiance and a hint of desperation. "You're making a grave mistake, Kelly!" Ana spat out, her eyes blazing with fury. "Salma won't stand for this! She'll have all of you Echelons laughing until you're begging to be slaves at her beautiful feet!"
JoAnna, although physically restricted, echoed Ana's sentiments. "You underestimate the power of the Dominas! You will regret this humiliation!"
The room fell into a brief silence following their threats, their words hanging heavily in the air. Kelly Hu merely observed them, her face impassive, her eyes cold and calculating. She offered no response to their protests, her silence serving as a stark reminder of her authority.
Moon Bloodgood, however, couldn't help but laugh at Ana's words. Her laughter echoed through the silent hall, a sound as chilling as it was mocking. "Oh, Ana," she said, her voice laced with amusement as she crouched beside the defiant Domina, "you seem to forget where you are."
Her fingers started to dance lightly over Ana's bare feet, the threat of impending tickle torture lingering in the air. "We'll tickle you until the crowd grows bored," Moon continued, her voice calm but ominous, "until you can't tell the difference between the Echelons and the Dominas anymore."
And with that, Moon's fingers began their ruthless task, her tickling touch promising a torturous ordeal for the two Dominas. A lesson in respect, a demonstration of power, was about to unfold in the heart of the Laughter Lagoon.
Ana and JoAnne could feel every trace of Moon's fingers, every tickle becoming a lightning bolt shooting through their bodies. The Echelon's touch was unrelenting, the sensations overwhelming. Their toes curled as waves of laughter flowed from their lips uncontrollably. Every nerve felt on fire, their bodies writhing as the tickling assault intensified. Their minds were consumed with the tickling, all thoughts of defiance slowly being replaced with the desperate need for relief. But it did not come. The tickling continued, the Echelons relentless, their laughter echoing hauntingly through the Lagoon.
Moon's words sparked an idea in Kelly's mind, her gaze sharpening as a new strategy began to take shape. She had seen it before, the transformation of a captive through relentless tickling. But those were men, and they were not renowned for their resilience against tickle torture. Yet the idea of applying this strategy to a female, and not just any female, but a Domina warrior, was an intriguing prospect.
It would be a bold move, one that could easily backfire, but the potential rewards were too tantalizing to dismiss. Forcing a Domina to surrender, to abandon her beliefs under the relentless tickling of the Echelons, would send a powerful message to Selma. It would be a display of dominance, of superiority, that the Dominas could not ignore.
Kelly's eyes gleamed with a newfound determination. She had a plan now, a daring strategy that could tilt the balance of power in favor of the Echelons. But it all hinged on the resilience of the Dominas, on their ability to withstand the most formidable tickle torture that the Echelons could deliver. Only time would tell if Kelly's audacious plan would succeed.
Kelly then turned to the seven Echelon soldiers who had been standing by, observing the spectacle. "Continue," she commanded, her voice brimming with authority. Immediately, they descended upon Ana, their hands replacing Moon's as they took over the tickling torture.
Kelly took Moon aside, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "You have a new task," she told her. "You have 24 hours to turn Ana into one of us. Use your tickling skills to break her, to wipe away her Domina personality. She must return to the Dominas as an Echelon. This is the ultimate test of your abilities, Moon. I trust you will not disappoint."
Moon's eyes widened, but she gave a determined nod, accepting the daunting challenge. The tickling of Ana would continue, this time with a new, more sinister purpose. The battle for her loyalty had begun.
I have written a total of 100K words on the complete first Volume of this story as a huge commission! Very exited to share the first chapter with you, if you are interested in buying the complete 100k+ story please DM me or purchase my exclusive tier on @korinamiller on Deviantart!
The story is about 2 huge tribes run by female leaders, since Tickleteria is female dominated. The complete story is filled with brutal and often fatal tickling, the characters are based of real life actors.
Without further adue, here is the first chapter:
Chapter 1 - Tickleteria
Part 1; The Domina’s and Echelons.
"In a world known as Tickleteria, where the ticklish touch was the highest form of power and the feather was mightier than the sword, two dominant tribes emerged from the ashes of many: the Domina and the Echelons. The Domina, formerly referred to as Alphas, were the brutal conquerors led by the formidable Salma Hayek.
The Domina’s history was carved in the battles fought and won, their relentless pursuit of domination leaving a trail of vanquished tribes in its wake. The Zephyrs, known for their swift and agile tickling techniques, were the first to fall. The Cackling Crescents, notorious for their eerie moonlit tickling rituals, soon followed. Each tribe that fell added to the growing power of the Domina, their unique tickling techniques assimilated and honed by the conquerors.
The Domina were not just warriors; they were staunch believers in a unique religion that centered around tickling. They believed in a deity known as Ticklona, the goddess of ticklish laughter. It was said that Ticklona was a mesmerizing woman with the feet of a goddess, the sole of her foot believed to be the birthplace of all ticklish sensations. It was from her that the Domina drew their strength and the will to conquer. Every tribe they vanquished was an offering to Ticklona.
The Domina would capture the most ticklish women from the defeated tribes, their delicate soles offered as tribute. Tickled relentlessly until their laughter ceased, these unfortunate souls met their end as sacrifices to Ticklona, their ticklish laughter echoing in the winds of Tickleteria as a symbol of the Domitia's dominance.
On the other end of the spectrum, the Echelons, or the Betas, were an equally potent tribe, yet their perspective of the world was vastly different from the Domina. They did not seek domination; instead, they strived for balance and coexistence. But the Domina viewed this as a threat, an obstacle in their path of domination. This ideological clash set the stage for a conflict that was waiting to erupt."
The heart of Domina territory was a vast, bustling hub, known to all as the 'Feather Dome'. It was an architectural marvel, a testament to the Dominas' power and dominance. Gleaming in the sunlight, the dome was constructed of iridescent materials that shimmered with every hue imaginable, reflecting off the large body of water surrounding it, creating a surreal aura of authority and control.
Inside the Feather Dome, the atmosphere was palpable with anticipation. The air carried the scent of exotic oils, the murmurs of hushed conversations, and the distant echoes of laughter. The crowd was a sea of women, their eyes gleaming with excitement, their laughter echoing off the dome's walls. Amidst them, men knelt in submission, their bodies marked with the scars of tickle tortures, their eyes downcast, a testament to their domination by the stronger sex.
The floor was carpeted with plush feathers, soft underfoot, and an elaborate chandelier, crafted from delicate quills, hung above. At the center of it all was a large, circular stage. It was here that the tickling rituals and power displays took place, the heart of Domina power, where the ticklish touch was both a form of art and a tool of control.
The leader of the Dominas, Salma Hayek, stood at the edge of the stage, her eyes scanning the crowd. Her presence was as commanding as it was captivating. Her dark hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, revealing her high cheekbones and piercing eyes. She exuded an aura of authority, and her reputation for ruthless tickling skills only added to her formidable persona.
Salma was preparing a message, a display of power to remind the Echelons of their place in this world. With each passing moment, the energy in the Feather Dome increased. The Dominas knew that a display was imminent, and the expectation was electric.
Salma's second-in-command, Alexandra Daddario, was by her side.
Alexandra had a contrasting figure with her striking blue eyes and raven hair. Her uniform, a short tunic of deep emerald green, was designed to be both practical and provocative. The garment, cut high on her thighs, displayed her toned legs and allowed for unhindered movement. A belt of woven gold chains cinched the tunic at her waist, emphasizing her slender figure. Her raven hair cascaded down her back, creating a stark contrast with her emerald tunic. Golden anklets adorned her bare feet.
Alexandra was known for her merciless tickling techniques, her ability to reduce the strongest of individuals to helpless laughter. She was the perfect enforcer for Salma's rule, her ruthlessness a stark mirror of the leader's own.
Salma Hayek, the leader of the Dominas, was an equally imposing figure. Clad in a matching uniform, hers a vibrant red, she personified fiery determination and indomitable power. The fabric of her tunic hugged her curvaceous body, flaunting her strength and femininity. A silver belt, adorned with various tickling tools, hung from her waist, each one more intimidating than the last.
Her dark hair was swept back into a high ponytail, exposing her strong features and the steely glint in her eyes. Her bare arms, muscular and commanding, shimmered under the dim glow of the Feather Dome. As she watched Alexandra's display, a sense of pride was evident in her gaze.
As the duo commanded the stage, the chatter in the Dome slowly dimmed, giving way to an expectant hush. The time had come for the Dominas to send their message. The message was clear, and it was embodied in the form of a man, a Beta spy from the Echelons, who was brought forward in chains. His fate, a chilling reminder of the power of the Domitia and their merciless Goddess, Ticklona..
Part 2; The ritual begins.
As the large wooden doors of the Feather Dome creaked open, a hush fell over the crowd. Two Domina guards, their faces masked by the shadows of their hoods, led a man into the chamber. His hands were bound in chains, his face a mask of grim determination as he was guided towards the center stage. His blue clothes and the foreign insignia he wore marked him as an Echelon, a spy who had been captured on Domina territory.
The crowd parted, creating a pathway to the stage. Salma watched with a stoic expression as the man was brought forward. She made a small gesture with her hand, a signal for the guards to halt their progress.
“Bring him,” Alexandra Daddario, the assistant leader, commanded with a voice that echoed through the silence of the Feather Dome. Her piercing blue eyes were fixed on the prisoner, a predatory smile playing on her lips. She turned to Salma, who gave her a curt nod, granting her the lead in this display.
The man was forcefully led up to the stage, where a special chair, known as the 'Tickle Throne', awaited him. It was an ornate piece, made of mahogany and upholstered with soft velvet. But the chair's inviting appearance belied its sinister purpose. The man was forced into the chair, his limbs restrained securely. His ankles were clamped tightly, his feet raised and splayed outwards, leaving his soles completely exposed and vulnerable. His toes were bound stretched, the delicate skin of his underfoot writhing in anticipation of the ticklish ordeal that awaited.
The tension in the Feather Dome was palpable. The crowd watched in anticipation as Alexandra moved towards a table nearby, her fingers tracing over a vast array of tickling tools. She hovered over an assortment of feathers, varying in size and softness, from the small, teasing quills of a hummingbird to the large, firm plumes of an eagle. Beside them lay an assortment of brushes, their bristles ranging from the soft horsehair ones for light, teasing strokes to stiff hog's hair ones for intense tickling. And then there were the specialty tools - the tickling gloves with fingers that vibrated, the electric toothbrushes designed for precision, and the small but mighty tickling wheel, designed to glide over the skin, causing uncontrollable laughter.. Her hand finally rested on a quill, its tip as sharp as a needle, and a set of feathers, their barbs delicate and soft.
Elizabeth Olsen, a silent but equally skilled member of the Dominas, approached Alexandra. Her role in this ritual was to assist Alexandra, to ensure that the power of the Dominas was truly felt. Elizabeth was known for her ability to find the most ticklish spots, her fingers and feathers known to have left many in a state of helpless laughter.
Alexandra turned to the man, her eyes glinting with a mix of anticipation and satisfaction. “You have trespassed on Domina lands,” she said, her voice ringing out clear and cold. “For that, there must be a price to pay.” She leaned closer to his face, her hot breath brushing his ear, "And I'm going to enjoy extracting every last ticklish squeal from you."
The crowd watched in rapt attention as Alexandra approached the man, the quill and feathers in her hands catching the light. Elizabeth stood by her side, her own tools ready. Their eyes met for a moment, a silent agreement passing between them.
In the meantime, Salma addressed the crowd, her voice thundering across the Feather Dome. "Witness the fate of those who cross the Domitia! Let this be a lesson to the Echelons, we will not be disrespected, we will not be taken lightly. We are the daughters of Ticklona, and we will fight till our last ticklish breath."
With that, Alexandra's fingers began their ticklish assault. Starting at the man's heels, she traced her fingers up his arches, the pads of her fingers pressing into the soft skin, causing him to jerk against his restraints. She scraped her nails along his soles, making him gasp and twitch. She dug into the base of his toes, causing him to howl with laughter.
Elizabeth joined in, her feathers dancing on the man's sides and underarms. The soft quills teased his skin, making him squirm and squeal. The Dome filled with the sound of his helpless laughter. The crowd erupted in cheers, the echo of their applause filling the Feather Dome. The man's laughter was a symphony of surrender, a testament to the power of the Domitia, a chilling warning to the Echelons.
The tickling continued relentlessly, the man's laughter growing louder and more desperate with each passing moment.
The relentless tickling continued unabated. Alexandra's nimble fingers, calloused from countless conquests, manipulated the man's hyper-sensitive soles while Elizabeth traced the contours of his underarms with her feathers, each stroke sending him into paroxysms of agonizing laughter. His body writhed in helpless torment, bucking against the restraints in a futile bid for escape. His laughter echoed off the dome's walls, a cacophony of forced mirth and pleading sobs that filled the air with an unsettling harmony.
"Please... Please, no more!" He gasped, the words slicing through his laughter like a blade. His eyes, rimmed with tears of desperation, darted between his tormentors. "Not... not between my toes!"
His pleas were met with smirks of sadistic delight. Alexandra's fingers, moving like a pianist playing a wicked concerto, slipped between his toes, causing his laughter to crescendo into a wail of despair. His body jerked with every ticklish stroke, the sight of his utter helplessness sending ripples of amusement through the crowd.
"I confess!" He blurted out in total panic, his voice ragged and hoarse. "I'm a spy! A... a spy for the Echelons!" He choked on his laughter, his words coming out in between gasps. "I'll... I'll renounce them! I'll... I'll believe in... in Ticklona!"
The mention of their goddess brought an eerie silence over the Feather Dome. All eyes turned to Salma, standing regally with an inscrutable expression. She regarded the man, her gaze as unyielding as the stone walls of the Dome. Her voice, when she finally spoke, was clear and cold, echoing ominously in the silence.
"Belief," she began, her words slicing through the air like a whip, "is not a shield you can hide behind when fear consumes you. It is not a cloak you can don to escape punishment. It is devotion. It is faith. It is love for our goddess, Ticklona."
She turned her piercing gaze to the crowd, her voice ringing with conviction. "This man chose to spy on us, to threaten our way of life. He chose his fate. His pleas of newfound faith are empty, a desperate attempt to escape the punishment he rightly deserves."
As her words echoed in the silence, the man's pleas turned into quiet sobs, his body shaking with fear and exhaustion. His laughter had ceased, replaced by a pitiful whimpering. His fate was sealed. The leader of the Dominas would show him no mercy.
The man's pleas for mercy turned frantic, each word tumbling over the other in a desperate symphony of terror. His eyes, wide with dread, locked onto Salma's, searching for a shred of sympathy, a glimmer of mercy. But all he found was a cruel, triumphant smirk.
"You've said enough," Salma declared, her voice echoing through the Feather Dome. Her gaze never leaving the man, she extended a hand towards Elizabeth. "Gag him. Let him save his apologies for Ticklona."
The crowd watched in silent anticipation as Elizabeth obeyed, reaching for a piece of soft leather attached to a wooden bit. The gag was simple in design, but it carried a sinister purpose. With swift and practiced movements, she approached the man, the crowd parting for her.
His pleas grew more frantic, morphing into a panicked babble. "No... please... I beg you... I'll... I'll do anything... please..." His words were cut off as Elizabeth approached, the gag in her hands.
"Just one more word," Salma purred, her tone laced with sadistic glee. She lowered herself in front of him, her eyes gleaming with wicked anticipation. "One last plea before you meet Ticklona."
He took a shuddering breath, his gaze darting between the two women. "Please," he whispered, his voice trembling.
But his plea fell on deaf ears. With a swift motion, Salma forced the gag into his mouth, silencing his pleas. His eyes bulged with fear and surprise, his body jerking against the restraints. But the laughter... the laughter continued to bubble out from behind the gag. It was a sound that echoed through the Feather Dome, a haunting melody of uncontrolled mirth and despair.
The crowd erupted into cheers, the echo of their applause filling the Feather Dome. The sight and sound of the man's helpless laughter was a satisfying symphony to their ears. To them, it was a testament to the power and dominance of the Domitia, a reminder of the fate that awaited those who dared to cross them. Their laughter joined his, a chorus of triumphant mirth that resonated through the Feather Dome, a haunting serenade to the ticklish torment that awaited the Echelons.
Amid the raucous laughter and applause, Alexandria ceased her relentless tickling, her fingers hovering above the trembling soles of the man. The cessation of the tickling was like the unexpected silence in the eye of a storm, causing the man to gasp in a mixture of relief and dread. His laughter died on his lips, his body still convulsed, and his eyes wide and pleading, glanced between Alexandria and Elizabeth. Their wicked smiles held an unspoken promise - his ordeal was far from over.
Alexandria rose from her position, her gaze locking with Salma’s in a silent conversation only the leaders of the Domitia understood. A nod from Salma was all it took for Alexandria to turn her attention back to the captive man.
The Feather Dome fell into a hushed silence as she cleared her throat. When her voice echoed through the grand enclosure, it held an authority that demanded absolute attention. "His laughter," she began, her tone laced with a cruel sort of amusement, "is the sweetest song to our ears. Each plea, each desperate gasp... it’s a melody Ticklona herself would revel in."
She took a step back, her eyes sweeping over the crowd, a flicker of anticipation in her gaze. "This intruder," she continued, her voice resounding throughout the Dome, "has proven himself a worthy offering to our goddess. He has laughed, he has begged, he has confessed. Now, it is time for him to meet Ticklona in her divine laughter-filled abode."
Excitement crackled through the crowd, every woman hanging onto her words, their eyes gleaming with anticipation. The men, while dominated and voiceless, gazed upon the spectacle with a complex blend of emotions. Their eyes, wide and filled with awe, were fixed upon Alexandria. Despite their helpless status, they couldn't help but admire her, their hearts filled with a mixture of fear and reverence. To be dominated by these women was not a punishment, but a privilege, one they wished to earn with every fiber of their being. The man had deserved this punishment.
Alexandria raised her hands, palms up in a dramatic gesture. "He will laugh his way to her," she declared, her voice clear and resonant. "He will be judged for his transgressions, for his audacious trespass into our lands. And Ticklona... our Ticklona will decide his fate."
She then turned to the man, her gaze piercing through him, "In her divine presence, may your laughter be your confession, your punishment, and your redemption. Your betrayal to the Echelons will be your offering to Ticklona. May the ticklish touch of our goddess guide your path to the afterlife."
With that, she stepped back, leaving the man to the mercy of the crowd. As she stepped back, a collective gasp filled the Feather Dome, soon followed by the excited whispers of anticipation. The women descended upon the captive like a pack of wolves, their fingers eager and unrelenting. The man's laughter escalated, becoming louder and more frantic, the echoes reverberating around the Dome until it reached a deafening crescendo.
For the next half an hour, the Dome was filled with the man's muffled laughter and the cruel, rhythmic sounds of tickling. Every ticklish spot was exploited mercilessly by the Domitia. The man's body twitched and jerked, his eyes filled with a horror that gradually gave way to a vacant resignation.
His laughter, initially desperate and fearful, eventually turned into a continuous, horrifying melody of a man being tickled beyond the brink of sanity. Every gasp for breath, every futile attempt to pull away, only spurred the women on, their fingers dancing tirelessly over his body, drawing out the laughter that was his life force and offering it to Ticklona.
As the laughter gradually died out, replaced by the man's final wheezing breaths, Salma stood, her gaze sweeping over the crowd one last time. A sense of contentment washed over her as she observed the ritual's culmination. Yet, hidden beneath her satisfaction, a seed of worry had been planted. The progress that Echelons had made was a cause for concern. With a final nod to her tribe, she exited the Feather Dome, leaving the echo of laughter and the memory of a successful ritual behind her, her mind already strategizing the next steps in the ongoing battle against the Echelons.
Part 3; The start of a mission
The revelation of the Echelons' progress was a cause for concern, a worrisome thorn in the side of the Domitia's otherwise unchallenged rule. As Salma emerged from the Feather Dome, the echoes of laughter and the memory of the ritual were still reverberating through the air. The sun had just started to dip below the horizon, casting long, eerie shadows that stretched across the Feather Dome. As she walked back to her grand palace, the air was filled with the chilling melody of the evening song, a reminder of the merciless ticklish ordeal that had taken place earlier that day.
The spy's body, now devoid of any laughter, served as a grim trophy of their victory. Salma had ordered it to be preserved and prepared for the delegation's journey, a chilling warning for the Echelons of the fate that awaited any who dared defy the Domitia.
As dawn broke the next day, Salma convened a meeting inside her grand palace. The grand hall, usually filled with laughter and jovial chatter, was now echoing with the serious discussions of war. The Alphas, under the leadership of Salma, were gathered around the large round table, their faces etched with determination and concern. At the head of the table, Salma stood tall, her gaze sweeping over her trusted warriors. The two figures beside her, Ana de Armas and JoAnna Garcia Swisher, emanated an air of unwavering resolve, prepared for the task ahead.
The pair were chosen to lead the delegation to the Echelons, carrying with them the body of the spy, a testament to the power of the Domitia and a warning of the fate that awaited the defiant. The sight of the deceased spy, his once vibrant eyes now hollow, his body still showing the signs of the relentless tickling torment, was enough to send shivers down the toughest of spines.
As Salma addressed the room, her voice echoed off the grand walls. "It's time for the Echelons to understand the true might of the Domitia. They need to witness the consequences of their defiance, the repercussions of their insolence."
A murmur of agreement resonated through the grand hall, echoing Salma's sentiment. The Echelons' resistance, their unyielding defiance, had been a lingering menace, a persistent hurdle in the path of the Domitia's ultimate domination.
As Salma addressed the room, her voice echoed off the grand walls. "It's time for the Echelons to understand the true might of the Domitia. They need to witness the consequences of their defiance, the repercussions of their insolence."
A murmur of agreement resonated through the grand hall, echoing Salma's sentiment. The Echelons' resistance, their unyielding defiance, had been a lingering menace, a persistent hurdle in the path of the Domitia's ultimate domination.
"But remember," Salma continued, her eyes gleaming with a hint of something akin to respect, "The Echelons are led by Kelly Hu. She is as strong as she is serene, commanding respect and power. She keeps her people in check with an uncanny blend of peace and ticklish discipline. Underneath her tranquil exterior, she possesses a formidable will and is as resolved as any of us. She's also known to have the most tantalizingly ticklish tactics at her disposal."
Salma's gaze hardened as she directed her attention to Ana and JoAnna. "You both have proven your loyalty, your strength, time and again. Your capabilities, your determination, have brought pride to the Domitia. Now, it is upon you to carry our message to the Echelons. Demand their surrender, or they shall face the fate of their lost spy."
Salma's gaze hardened as she directed her attention to Ana and JoAnna. "You both have proven your loyalty, your strength, time and again. Your capabilities, your determination, have brought pride to the Domitia. Now, it is upon you to carry our message to the Echelons. Demand their surrender, or they shall face the fate of their lost spy."
The declaration hung heavy in the air, the weight of their mission settling upon their shoulders. Ana and JoAnna, understanding the gravity of their task, responded with a firm nod, their resolve unwavering.
"May Ticklona guide your path," Salma bestowed her blessing, her hand resting on each of their shoulders, a silent promise of support and trust. "Remind the world why the Domitia are feared."
As they embarked on their journey, the grand doors of the palace closing behind them, Salma watched from her balcony. The faith she had in Ana and JoAnna was unwavering, but she was acutely aware that the road ahead was fraught with challenges. The Echelons were a formidable foe, their progress a looming threat, but the Domitia were ready to meet them head-on, to assert their power and to quell any resistance that dared to rise against them.
Part 4; The trip to Echelon
As the grand doors of Salma's palace receded in the distance, Ana and JoAnna set off on their journey, their horses trotting in a steady rhythm. The spy's body, securely tied to the back of Ana's horse, was a chilling presence that served as a grim reminder of their mission. The journey to Echelon territory was a long one, a three-day ride through uncharted wilderness and treacherous terrain. But the two women were not strangers to adversity; they were warriors, bred and trained for such challenges.
Ana, her blonde tresses braided and tucked beneath a hooded cloak, maneuvered her horse with practiced ease, her eyes scanning the horizon. "Three days," she murmured, her voice just loud enough for JoAnna to hear over the soft clattering of hooves. "Three days till we reach Echelon territory."
JoAnna, her fiery red hair flowing in the wind, nodded, her grip tightening on the reins. "Three days to prepare our speech, to ready ourselves for their reaction," she responded, her voice steady.
The tension between the Echelons and the Domitia was palpable, even in this secluded wilderness. But despite the gravity of their mission, the two women found comfort in their camaraderie, their shared experiences creating a bond that was as strong as their unwavering loyalty to the Domitia.
As the day wore on, the landscape around them gradually changed. The dense forests gave way to open fields, the wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze. They slowed their horses to a walk, taking a moment to rest and rejuvenate.
As they made camp for the night, the stars serving as their only light, Ana and JoAnna huddled together, their horses grazing nearby. The fire crackled and danced, casting a warm glow on their faces. They were warriors, but beneath the strong exterior, they were also women, with their hopes, fears, and dreams.
"I wonder," Ana began, her voice barely above a whisper, "what it would be like if we didn't have to deal with the Echelons. If we could live in peace."
JoAnna sighed, her gaze fixed on the flickering flames. "Peace is a luxury, Ana," she replied, her voice heavy. "A luxury we can't afford. Not now."
Ana nodded, her thoughts drifting to the spy whose lifeless body lay a few feet away. "You're right, JoAnna. We are Domitia. We are warriors. It's our duty to fight for our tribe, to protect our people."
JoAnna turned to look at Ana, her eyes reflecting the firelight. "And we will, Ana. We will fight. We will carry our message to the Echelons, and we will demand their surrender. And if they refuse..." She glanced at the lifeless body of the spy, a grim reminder of their power. "...they will face the wrath of the Domitia."
The declaration hung in the air, the gravity of their mission settling heavily on their shoulders. But despite the daunting task ahead, they found solace in their shared resolve, their shared loyalty to the Domitia.
As they drifted off to sleep, their bodies huddled close for warmth, the crackling fire their only company, their thoughts were filled with their mission, their determination unwavering. They were Domitia, the formidable warriors of Ticklona, and they would not fail. They would carry their message to the Echelons, and they would demand their surrender. For they were the Dominas, the protectors of the Feather Dome, the ruthless ticklers, and the guardians of their people. And they would let nothing stand in their way.
As the second day dawned, the wilderness awakened to the sound of hoofbeats. Ana and JoAnna, astride their powerful steeds, were silhouettes against the golden sunrise. The echo of their horses' hooves against the hard ground was a steady rhythm, a testament to their unwavering determination. They knew they were drawing closer to Echelon territory, and they prepared themselves for the potential encounters that lay ahead.
Their preparations proved useful when, by midday, they found their path blocked by three Echelon warriors. Clad in form-fitting tunics of bright blue that complimented their curvaceous figures, the women stood firm, their postures radiating power and dominance. Their leader, Kelsey Asbille, had a fierce beauty about her, her dark eyes sharp and probing as she scrutinized the Dominas.
"State your purpose," Kelsey demanded, her voice echoing off the surrounding cliffs. Her gaze never wavered from Ana and JoAnna, assessing them with a calculated calmness.
"We come bearing a message from Salma, leader of the Domitia," Ana responded, meeting Kelsey's gaze with an unwavering one of her own. There was a pause, and Ana could see the recognition in the Echelon's eyes at the mention of Salma's name.
"We're familiar with your Salma and her methods," Kelsey retorted, her voice cold. "We won't be intimidated."
"It's not about coercion, but a choice. Peace or repercussions," JoAnna added, her tone steady in spite of the escalating tension.
The silence that followed was soon broken by Kelsey's scoff, "And if we prefer repercussions?"
Kelsey, the Echelons' leader, countered with a scoff. Her eyes gleamed with defiance, "And if we prefer repercussions?"
Part 5; Repercussion
The question hung in the air like a loaded arrow. The silence was shattered as the Echelons made their move. The horses reared, whinnying in alarm as the three Echelon women launched themselves at Ana and JoAnna. The swift ambush caught the Dominas off guard, dislodging them from their saddles. Despite their best efforts to regain control, the element of surprise tilted the scales in the Echelons' favor.
JoAnna was the first to hit the ground, her body pinned beneath an Echelon warrior. Her emerald tunic hiked up slightly, exposing a strip of her toned midriff. The Echelon straddled her, effectively immobilizing her, her warm weight pressing JoAnna into the cool earth.
Simultaneously, Ana found herself in the grip of the other two Echelons. Their strong hands seized her arms, pushing them above her head, while their booted feet ensnared her legs. Even in their dire situation, Ana and JoAnna locked eyes, a wordless pact of resistance solidified in that fleeting gaze.
As the tickling commenced, their captors' expressions were a twisted blend of sadistic pleasure and grim determination. Kelsey, her nimble fingers dancing across Ana's bare soles, flashed a cruel smirk, "Ever wondered what it feels like, Ana?"
Ana squirmed, her breath hitching as she fought to suppress the laughter bubbling in her throat. JoAnna too, was trapped in a similar struggle. The Echelon atop her was relentless, her fingers exploring every ticklish inch of her exposed midriff.
Their resistance, however, was beginning to fracture under the tickling onslaught. The first strains of stifled laughter began to leak from their lips, betraying their cracking resolve.
"So, Ana," Kelsey's voice cut through the strained silence that had fallen over the field, her tone casual yet laden with menace, "Why don't we start with Salma's next move?" Her fingers continued to torment Ana's bare soles, tracing intricate patterns that elicited choked gasps and suppressed giggles.
Ana's eyes sparked with rebellion, her body writhing in a futile attempt to escape the relentless tickling. Despite the laughter threatening to spill over, she managed to rasp out, "We... we won't betray... Salma."
Kelsey merely chuckled at this, the sound chilling in its mirth. Her fingers stilled momentarily on Ana's feet, a deceptively gentle touch that was a stark contrast to the situation. "Well, we'll see about that," she declared, her voice dripping with confidence.
With a swift movement, Kelsey disengaged from Ana, leaving her panting and twitching from the residual ticklish sensations. She sauntered over to JoAnna, her predatory grin never wavering. "And you, JoAnna," she purred, her fingers already starting to dance along JoAnna's sides, "You're quite the brave one, aren't you?"
JoAnna's body immediately tensed under the onslaught, a gasp of surprise escaping her lips. She shot Kelsey a determined glare, her voice tremulous as she echoed Ana's sentiment, "We... we will never... tell you anything."
Kelsey laughed at this defiance, the sound resonating through the open field like a chilling melody. "Oh, we'll see about that," she mimicked her previous statement, her fingers intensifying their ticklish assault. JoAnna's face contorted, her body bucking in response, the sound of her restrained laughter filling the air.
The Echelon warriors flanking Ana grinned at the spectacle, their fingers resuming their tickling assault with renewed fervor. The silence of the field was replaced with laughter, gasps, and the cruel taunts of the Echelons. Their interrogation was a spectacle of cruelty and defiance, a dance of ticklish torment that pushed the limits of the Dominas' resilience. The anticipation of a potential crack in their armor fueled the Echelons' glee, their actions radiating a sadistic pleasure at the prospect of a possible betrayal.
The field resonated with the eerie symphony of suppressed laughter and spiteful taunts. Kelsey, the orchestrator of this relentless torment, had switched her focus back to Ana. She ran her nails, sharp and threatening, along the arches of Ana's bare feet. Each stroke elicited a jolt from Ana, her body convulsing as waves of ticklish sensations threatened to overwhelm her.
"Never... give in, JoAnna," Ana managed to gasp out between strained laughter, her gaze locked with her companion's. Her eyes shimmered with a mix of agony and defiance, the spirit of the Dominas burning brightly despite their dire situation.
JoAnna, her own body writhing under the continuous tickling assault, responded with a resolute nod. "I won't... Ana. We won't," she promised, each word punctuated with a strangled giggle.
Kelsey's laughter echoed around them, a chilling melody that heightened the sense of dread. "We'll see who breaks first," she taunted, her fingers resuming their cruel dance on Ana's soles. Her nails skated over the soft flesh, each scrape pulling forth a fresh wave of laughter from the captive Domina.
Despite the escalating torment, Ana remained steadfast. Her laughter was strained, her body writhed, but her spirit refused to bend. The raw determination in her eyes never wavered, her gaze continuously seeking JoAnna's. Their unspoken communication, a testament to their solidarity, bolstered their resolve.
"Let's see how much more you can take, Ana," Kelsey challenged, her fingers working with ruthless precision. She traced the delicate spaces between Ana's toes, her nails scraping over the sensitive flesh. The intensity of the tickling elicited a strangled scream from Ana, her body thrashing in a desperate bid for respite.
Still, no secrets were spilled, no plans revealed. The Dominas held their ground, their laughter echoing around the field like a testament to their unwavering resolve. Their captors' interrogation only seemed to harden their resolve, the stakes of their mission etching a clear line of defiance in their laughter-filled pleas.
The Echelons, with Kelsey at their helm, relentlessly continued their sadistic pursuit. The tantalizing lure of breaking the resilient Dominas spurred them on, their sinister mirth echoing across the clearing. But the fortitude of the Dominas was an opposing force, their unyielding spirit a beacon of defiance amidst the growing adversity. It was a precarious balance, a ruthless dance of persistence and rebellion, the resolution of which hung in the delicate balance.
Kelsey, with a wicked glint in her eyes, suddenly produced a small brush, its bristles glistening with oil under the fading sunlight. Ana's eyes widened in horror as the brush descended, making contact with the arch of her bare foot. The resulting sensation was overwhelming, causing her body to convulse violently as uncontrollable laughter spilled from her lips.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NOOO- Please... Kelsey... stop… HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" Ana managed to gasp out amidst her hysteria, her voice shaking with the intensity of her laughter. But Kelsey remained unmoved, her face wearing a sadistic smile as she calmly continued to torment Ana's most vulnerable spot.
"So, Ana," Kelsey began, her voice eerily calm amidst the cacophony of laughter, "Ready to share Salma's plans?" The brush continued its ruthless assault, the bristles sliding over the arch with an agonizing precision, amplifying Ana's ticklish torment.
"No... Ana... don't!" JoAnna screamed out, her voice echoing through the clearing. She strained against her captors, her body thrashing in a futile attempt to reach Ana. "Don't tell them anything!"
Ana's pleas for mercy turned into desperate sobs, her laughter intensifying with each stroke of the brush. "Stop… HAHAHAHA please… HAHAHAHAHAHAHA tickle- JoAnna… HAHAHAHAHA stop..." Her words were barely coherent amidst her laughter, her body convulsing with every relentless stroke of the brush.
But just as it seemed Ana was on the brink of capitulation, a sudden surge of adrenaline coursed through her. With a roar of defiance, she thrashed violently beneath the Echelon sitting on her. A brief struggle ensued, and then, with a triumphant yell, Ana managed to free herself from her captor's hold, sending the Echelon warrior sprawling onto the ground. The brush slipped from Kelsey's hand, landing in the dust
Still gasping for breath, Ana's eyes were ablaze with determination. The Echelons were momentarily stunned, their cruel laughter replaced by shocked silence. Seizing the opportunity, Ana lunged towards JoAnna, her movements swift and decisive.
With a burst of strength, Ana pushed the Echelon pinning JoAnna down. The surprise of the push caught the Echelon off guard, and she tumbled away from JoAnna, who was now free.
Ana quickly extended a hand towards her fellow Domina, pulling her to her feet. "We need to leave. Now!" she said, her voice urgent. Nodding in agreement, JoAnna quickly scanned their surroundings, her gaze landing on their horses.
Their horses were still standing where they'd left them, their reins loosely tied around a nearby tree. They hurried towards them, their movements swift despite their exhaustion. Unfastening the reins, they quickly mounted, their bodies screaming in protest after the prolonged tickling ordeal.
With the wind tearing at their hair and the adrenaline rushing in their veins, Ana and JoAnna galloped away from the clearing, leaving the stunned Echelons behind. The cool evening air was a stark contrast to their heated bodies, the lingering echoes of ticklish torture still throbbing on their skin.
"You'll pay for this, Echelons!" Ana shouted back at the receding figures, her voice resonating with the promise of retribution. JoAnna echoed her sentiment, her voice filled with a steely determination that matched Ana's, "We will bring Salma's wrath upon you!"
Their shouts echoed through the quiet forest, the words carried by the wind to the Echelons left behind. Their threats, though spoken in the heat of the moment, were no empty promises. They knew that Salma would not take this lightly, and the Echelons would indeed face her wrath.
The horses maintained their swift pace, their hooves thundering against the soft forest floor, each stride taking them further away from their captors. The twilight sky was streaked with purples and pinks, the onset of night casting long shadows across the forest.
For a while, they rode in silence, the only sounds being the rhythmic pounding of the horses' hooves and the occasional call of a nocturnal creature. The silence was not uncomfortable but filled with a mutual understanding, a shared experience that had left them with a profound respect for each other.
"You okay?" Ana finally broke the silence, glancing at JoAnna with a concerned expression. Despite the fading sunlight, she could see the redhead nodding, her lips curving into a small, tired smile.
"I'm alright, Ana. Just a bit shaken, that's all," JoAnna replied, her voice firm, her gaze steady. "But we must inform Salma immediately."
"I agree," Ana said, her jaw set in determination. "We can't let them get away with this."
As the night drew closer, they pressed on, their resolve unbroken, their spirits undeterred. The journey to the Echelon territory was long and arduous, but they were prepared for it. They had faced adversity before, and they would do so again.
As they neared their destination, their conversation shifted to strategizing their next steps. They spoke in hushed tones, their words carried away by the wind, their plans a guarded secret. Despite their recent ordeal, their commitment to their mission remained unwavering, their resolve bolstered by their shared experience.
In the heart of the night, they finally arrived at the border of the Echelon territory. Exhausted but undeterred, they dismounted their horses, their hearts pounding in their chests. They had survived their ordeal, and now, it was time to deliver their message, a message that carried the promise of retribution and the unyielding spirit of the Dominas.
As the morning sun began to rise, Ana and JoAnna ventured into Echelon territory. Their destination was the Echelon's home base, aptly named the 'Laughter Lagoon.' This unique settlement presented a striking contrast to the Domina's Feather Dome, reflecting the more peaceful nature of the Echelon society.
The Laughter Lagoon was a sight to behold. Built from a unique, shimmering blue stone, the city glowed under the morning light, resembling a calm sea under a clear sky. The architecture was a testament to the Echelons' approach to life, focusing on harmony and balance rather than dominance and control.
The entrance to the Lagoon was a large archway, carved with delicate feather designs. This served as a symbol of the Echelons' belief in using tickling as a tool for persuasion rather than violence. The paths leading into the city were lined with beautiful green plants, creating a welcoming atmosphere.
The city itself was filled with open spaces, gardens, and courtyards. Buildings were spread out, offering plenty of room for the inhabitants. The sound of flowing water from fountains and ponds added to the overall peaceful feeling of the place.
Even though Ana and JoAnna were used to a more aggressive environment, they couldn't help but appreciate the tranquility of the city. However, they weren't there to admire the view. They had a mission to carry out. With determination in their eyes, they rode on, ready to deliver their message to the Echelons. The journey into the heart of the Laughter Lagoon had almost come to an end.
As they delved further into the city, Ana and JoAnna couldn't ignore the unique beauty of its inhabitants. The women of the Echelons, predominantly of Asian heritage, had an elegance that was as entrancing as it was discreet. Clad in flowing blue tunics, they moved with an effortless grace that was akin to a gentle breeze or a calm stream. Their outfits were simple, yet dignified, reflecting the tranquility of the city they called home.
Their features were delicate, their almond-shaped eyes sparkling with intelligence and warmth. A variety of hairstyles adorned their heads, from sleek, straight locks to elaborate braids, each one a testament to their individuality. The skin of the Echelon women remained untouched, maintaining a natural and soft elegance.
Among the women, the Echelon men existed in a state of serene submission. They wore only the simplest of garments, a kind of minimalistic underwear that left little to the imagination. Their heads were lowered as they moved among the women, their actions reflecting their acceptance of their place in this society.
Even as they were engulfed by the peaceful energy of the city, Ana and JoAnna felt a strange sense of familiarity. The Echelon society, although distinct in many ways, shared the foundational belief in female dominance, much like their own.
However, they were here with a purpose, a mission that demanded their focus. Even amidst the serene beauty of the Echelon city, they knew they needed to stay alert and committed to their objective. Their journey into the heart of Echelon was turning out to be as enlightening as it was formidable.
Part 6; Kelly Hu, leader of the Echelons
Ana and JoAnna strode through the Laughter Lagoon of the Tickle Oasis, their eyes drinking in the scenery with a mix of awe and caution. They knew who resided here, the leader of the Echelons, the formidable Kelly Hu. They had heard tales of her calm yet ruthless command, her ability to balance peace with power. Yet, they were on a mission, a mission that demanded audacity and resolve.
As they neared the heart of the Lagoon, the building that housed the Echelon leader, their resolve hardened. They couldn't afford to be swayed by the serenity around them, not when they had a dire message to deliver. Entering the grand structure, they were met with an air of calm authority.
In the centre of the room, on a high-backed chair, sat Kelly Hu. She was an embodiment of the Echelon ethos - a woman of power who carried an air of serenity. Her dark hair fell over her shoulders, contrasting against her elegant blue robes. Yet, there was an undeniable strength in her gaze, a quiet intensity that spoke of her capability to rule and reign.
Ana and JoAnna moved forward, a steely determination in their eyes. They knew they had to be firm, even rude, if they were to get their message across.
"We've come a long way, Kelly Hu," Ana began, her voice echoing in the grandeur of the room. "We're here to deliver a message from Selma."
"And it's not a message of peace," JoAnna added, her tone equally stern. "We demand your surrender."
A murmur ran through the room, but Kelly Hu remained unperturbed. Her gaze met theirs, steady and unyielding.
Before she could reply, Ana continued, "As a proof of our commitment, we've brought something." She gestured, and Ana called her horse. It dragged in the lifeless body of the spy, a grim testament to the Dominas' determination.
There was a collective gasp from the Echelons present, but Kelly’s expression remained calm. The room fell silent, all eyes on her, waiting for her response.
Kelly rose from her throne, her presence a calm amidst the storm. She was an imposing figure, standing with an aura of serene authority. Her long, raven-black hair cascaded down her back, her features radiating a tranquil beauty.
Her feet, bare and delicately shaped, were the epitome of elegance, the smooth arches and slender toes a testament to her poised composure. Her toes, manicured to perfection, bore no color, a symbol of her humble, yet firm, leadership. A couple of silver toe rings adorned her feet, glittering under the soft light, accentuating her regality.
Her voluptuous figure, accentuated by her tailored blue silk robe, held an irresistible allure. The robe, designed to celebrate her femininity, clung to her figure and subtly outlined her ample bosom. The low neckline of the robe offered a glimpse of her cleavage, a perfect contrast to her otherwise modest attire.
Dangling from her ears were a pair of distinctive earrings. Each was artfully shaped into tiny silver feathers, their delicate details sparkling in the soft light. At the base of each feather, a small sapphire was embedded, its deep blue hue reflecting the tranquil strength of the Echelons. As Kelly moved, the earrings swayed gently.
Her voice, when she finally spoke, was as calm as the placid lake outside their sanctuary. "Fear not, my people. The Dominas' threats are nothing but an echo of their insecurities. They are trying to intimidate us with their crude methods and aggressive tactics."
She paused, letting her words sink in, her gaze sweeping across the room, making eye contact with as many of her people as she could. "We, the Echelons, stand for peace. We believe in the power of tranquility and harmony. We won't let the Dominas shatter our beliefs with their war cries and tickling torture."
The room filled with a mix of responses. There was applause, echoing Kelly's sentiment, but it was also tinged with uncertainty. The Echelons admired Kelly, respected her, but they also knew they lacked the ruthless determination of the Dominas. Their belief in peace was unwavering, but the threat of war, of ticklish torment, was daunting.
Kelly sensed their hesitation, their fear. "It's natural to feel afraid," she acknowledged, her voice soft yet firm. "But remember, we are Echelons. We stand for peace, but we will not back down. If it's a war they want, then we will meet them on our terms, not theirs. We will not succumb to their ticklish torment."
As her words echoed throughout the Laughter Lagoon, a renewed sense of resolve sparked amongst her people. They might not have the ruthless aggression of the Dominas, but they had something equally powerful - unity and unwavering faith in their leader.
With the silence of the room hanging heavy, Kelly addressed Ana and JoAnna directly. "You have entered our sanctuary with disrespect and arrogance, expecting us to bow to your demands," she stated, her voice steady and assertive. "This was a grave mistake."
She turned her gaze to two women standing at her side. "Jamie, Moon," she called out, her tone commanding yet calm. "Show our guests the consequences of their insolence."
Jamie Chung and Moon Bloodgood stepped forward, the intensity in their eyes matching that of their leader. Jamie, with her petite figure and delicate features, was a beautiful contrast to the tall, athletic Moon. Both women wore outfits similar to their leader, except their robes were adorned with feathers at the hems, a signature of their status as Kelly's trusted commanders.
Jamie's sharp eyes, a captivating shade of brown, held an air of quiet determination. Her dark hair was pulled back into a high ponytail, revealing her high cheekbones and delicate jawline. Moon her athletic physique was evident even beneath her robe, hinting at her strength and agility.
Part 7; The Challenge of the Domina warriors
Moon Bloodgood and Jamie Chung, two of the most esteemed warriors of the Echelons, stepped forward, their faces calm but determined. They were renowned not only for their beauty but also for their tickling prowess, known to evoke the deepest laughter from even the most stoic individuals.
Seven Echelon soldiers, clad in their traditional silk garments, moved swiftly, encircling Ana and JoAnna. The soldiers were swift and efficient, their movements practiced and synchronized. Within moments, Ana and JoAnna found their hands securely tied behind their backs and their ankles bound together. Their resistance was futile against the combined strength of the Echelon women.
Kelly watched as her orders were carried out, her gaze never leaving the two Dominas. "Treat them with the same ruthlessness that their tribe is known for," she commanded, her voice cold. Her command held an underlying message - a clear display of power and dominance, a warning to those who dared challenge the Echelons.
Moon and Jamie approached the bound Domina representatives. Their expressions remained calm, their serene demeanor contrasting starkly with the task at hand. Moon knelt beside JoAnna, her fingers hovering over the soles of the captive's bare feet, while Jamie stood near Ana, her hands poised to begin the tickling torture.
The room filled with a chilling silence as the Echelon soldiers watched. The peace of the Laughter Lagoon was about to be disrupted, replaced with the laughter of the tortured Dominas. And through it all, the Echelon women remained calm and collected, their peaceful nature undisturbed even as they prepared to unleash their tickling wrath on their captives. The tickle torture was about to commence, a clear message to the Dominas - disrespect the Echelons at your own peril.
As the Echelon soldiers secured their bonds, Ana and JoAnna began to protest, their voices filled with defiance and a hint of desperation. "You're making a grave mistake, Kelly!" Ana spat out, her eyes blazing with fury. "Salma won't stand for this! She'll have all of you Echelons laughing until you're begging to be slaves at her beautiful feet!"
JoAnna, although physically restricted, echoed Ana's sentiments. "You underestimate the power of the Dominas! You will regret this humiliation!"
The room fell into a brief silence following their threats, their words hanging heavily in the air. Kelly Hu merely observed them, her face impassive, her eyes cold and calculating. She offered no response to their protests, her silence serving as a stark reminder of her authority.
Moon Bloodgood, however, couldn't help but laugh at Ana's words. Her laughter echoed through the silent hall, a sound as chilling as it was mocking. "Oh, Ana," she said, her voice laced with amusement as she crouched beside the defiant Domina, "you seem to forget where you are."
Her fingers started to dance lightly over Ana's bare feet, the threat of impending tickle torture lingering in the air. "We'll tickle you until the crowd grows bored," Moon continued, her voice calm but ominous, "until you can't tell the difference between the Echelons and the Dominas anymore."
And with that, Moon's fingers began their ruthless task, her tickling touch promising a torturous ordeal for the two Dominas. A lesson in respect, a demonstration of power, was about to unfold in the heart of the Laughter Lagoon.
Ana and JoAnne could feel every trace of Moon's fingers, every tickle becoming a lightning bolt shooting through their bodies. The Echelon's touch was unrelenting, the sensations overwhelming. Their toes curled as waves of laughter flowed from their lips uncontrollably. Every nerve felt on fire, their bodies writhing as the tickling assault intensified. Their minds were consumed with the tickling, all thoughts of defiance slowly being replaced with the desperate need for relief. But it did not come. The tickling continued, the Echelons relentless, their laughter echoing hauntingly through the Lagoon.
Moon's words sparked an idea in Kelly's mind, her gaze sharpening as a new strategy began to take shape. She had seen it before, the transformation of a captive through relentless tickling. But those were men, and they were not renowned for their resilience against tickle torture. Yet the idea of applying this strategy to a female, and not just any female, but a Domina warrior, was an intriguing prospect.
It would be a bold move, one that could easily backfire, but the potential rewards were too tantalizing to dismiss. Forcing a Domina to surrender, to abandon her beliefs under the relentless tickling of the Echelons, would send a powerful message to Selma. It would be a display of dominance, of superiority, that the Dominas could not ignore.
Kelly's eyes gleamed with a newfound determination. She had a plan now, a daring strategy that could tilt the balance of power in favor of the Echelons. But it all hinged on the resilience of the Dominas, on their ability to withstand the most formidable tickle torture that the Echelons could deliver. Only time would tell if Kelly's audacious plan would succeed.
Kelly then turned to the seven Echelon soldiers who had been standing by, observing the spectacle. "Continue," she commanded, her voice brimming with authority. Immediately, they descended upon Ana, their hands replacing Moon's as they took over the tickling torture.
Kelly took Moon aside, her eyes gleaming with anticipation. "You have a new task," she told her. "You have 24 hours to turn Ana into one of us. Use your tickling skills to break her, to wipe away her Domina personality. She must return to the Dominas as an Echelon. This is the ultimate test of your abilities, Moon. I trust you will not disappoint."
Moon's eyes widened, but she gave a determined nod, accepting the daunting challenge. The tickling of Ana would continue, this time with a new, more sinister purpose. The battle for her loyalty had begun.
