"Come on... Come on..." Agatha muttered under her breath. She knew she shouldn't be expecting much better from a telescope she'd rented for free from the college observatory, but that didn't mean she had infinite patience. If she wasn't struggling with bringing the stars ahead into proper focus, it was probably because she was busy trying to keep the rickety old mount the telescope sat on from toppling over. When that wasn't the issue, then she was trying to get the attached laptop working so she could actually take the pictures she needed for her class project. What should've been a quick 30 minutes of work had transformed into several hours of fighting barely functioning equipment. It was getting increasingly tempting to see if any of it would work better after a solid kick or two.
At 23-years-old, Agatha Richardson was in her 5th year and final semester of college. At 5'5", wavy blonde hair that fell to roughly her shoulder blades, and icy blue eyes, she wasn't exactly one of the girls who stood out much from the rest of the crowd as neither the most beautiful nor exceptionally ugly. When she thought about it, the only time anyone had really commented on her appearance in the last couple years, ignoring the rambling of drunk party-goers, was when her art major roommate had described her as "lean with a stern face" while sketching her in the common room one day. Not that it particularly mattered at the moment. Nobody else had come up the mountain with her, and even if they had it wasn't like they could see anything underneath the beige cargo pants, hiking boots, and padded blue winter jacket she had on to ward off the cold night air.
"I need a break," the woman muttered to herself. She ducked back into her tent only to emerge a moment later with her water bottle in one hand and a protein bar in the other. A picnic blanket had already been rolled out underneath her telescope, it was only a matter of gingerly sitting down on a free corner so she didn't accidentally undo the hours of work she'd just spent trying to get it setup.
Agatha gazed up at the stars overhead in between bites of her snack. She liked stargazing, she really did. It was a large part of the reason why she'd elected to become an astronomy major. But despite how many fond memories she had of playing with her toy telescope as a kid, what she'd discovered after getting into college was that camping on a mountain was a lot more fun when she was doing it because she wanted to than when it was assigned work. The stress of the fact that she still hadn't finished by 3 AM was distracting her from the beauty she normally found in viewing the night sky sans light pollution.
"A shooting star, huh?" A streak of light making its way across the night sky caught her eye. A lifetime of stargazing had let her realize that shooting stars weren't all that uncommon, but she still liked to make a wish on them from time to time. It wasn't like there was any harm in it. A couple ideas of what she could wish for flitted through her head. That her telescope would magically not be causing any more problems once she got back to it. Maybe her finals would be easy A's across the board. What she ultimately settled on was...
"Man, I wish I could go to space someday," Agatha said aloud. It was the longest shot out of everything she wanted to do in her life. Hiking up a mountain with a telescope on her back was nothing compared to the training required to be an astronaut. She frankly doubted she had what it took to make the cut. But if she ever had the chance, that was what Agatha wanted above all else. The idea of being able to travel between the stars just seemed so much more amazing than simply looking at them.
Agatha squinted at the shooting star. She'd seen enough pass over her head for her curiosity to peak when one suddenly stopped in midair. Questions about what sort of weird visual trick could be going on began springing up in the girl's mind in the several seconds it took to process that the light was growing bigger. Agatha's curiosity quickly turned to fear when it finally dawned on her that the streak of light was headed straight for her. A shriek escaped her lips and she tumbled backwards out of fright as the world around her was engulfed by the approaching light.
A few moments of silence passed. A part of Agatha's brain, the part not devoted to panicking, was wondering where there hadn't been a bigger boom. Or any noise at all for that matter. "Grass under the back of my head..." she muttered to herself. "Either the afterlife is a big meadow or I didn't get squished after all." She slowly cracked her eyes open, blinked a couple times to get rid of the lingering spots, and then immediately squeezed them shut again in disbelief.
Cracking her eyes open a second time proved that her eyes hadn't been playing tricks on her. Floating a half dozen or so meters above the treetops just a little ways up the mountain from her camp was what she could only describe as a flying saucer. The black disk slowly rotating in midair was roughly the circumference of her studio apartment. If Agatha hadn't been sitting close enough beneath it to notice the glowing pads underneath, she doubted she would've been able to make it out against the night sky at all.
'To think, an honest to goodness UFO just appeared in front of me. I can't NOT investigate it,' Agatha thought to herself. Now that she wasn't in danger of dying, curiosity once again filled the astronomy major. She was so excited to scramble up the mountain to get a closer look she forgot to even bring her camera with her.
The moment Agatha managed to hike her way directly beneath the flying saucer a circular hatch on the bottom spiraled open to grant the earthling college student her first glimpse of an alien. What caught Agatha off guard the most about it was how human the alien looked. Outside of her pink skin, green hair, and antenna sprouting out of her forehead, she looked just like a curvy human woman. The alien was slowly floating down to the ground via a beam of light shining out of the UFO's bottom hatch. Agatha got to take a little better stock of her when she finally touched down. On closer inspection, she wasn't just human looking, she was fairly pretty by human standards. Agatha doubted the combination of her long legs, soft round face, tight waist, E-cup chest, and sizeable rear end combined with the fact that she was only wearing a skin-tight leotard that left nothing to the imagination would've failed to get the guys tripping over themselves for her.
"Uhm... hello? Welcome to Earth?" Agatha nervously said with a wave. It suddenly occurred to her that she had no idea how to go about this. What exactly was the proper way of interacting with a space alien who had just arrived on your planet? It wasn't something they taught in any of her astronomy or general ed classes. Maybe that was more a political science sort of thing...
She knew for a fact the alien woman responded. At the very least she was moving her mouth and noises were coming out. What exactly any of it meant was beyond her though. An awkward silence descended between the two after the alien was done. Agatha hated moments like this. It was bad enough when they spoke enough of the same language for her to come up with an excuse to leave. When they couldn't even do that, it was unbearable. The alien woman seemed to be a little better prepared for this. She was reaching up to put her hand against her ear while muttering something.
"Sorry about that. I was a little distracted on my way in. Forgot to set my translator for this planet's languages." Agatha was shocked to hear perfectly fluent English come out of the alien's mouth next. "The name's *(@*%&!@# *!@%#(#. Can I confirm that this planet is Sol-3?"
"I, erm, I'm Agatha Richardson. Sorry, I didn't catch your name there. And for this planet... I think so? We just call it 'Earth' here."
"Ah, sorry again," the alien replied. She cupped her hand over her ear again with a frown. "It looks like my name doesn't translate well. Just call me Jane Doe. It's what my ship's computer claims is the name for unknown females for your species." A surprised look came over Jane's face at that moment. "And what do you mean you just call this planet 'Earth'? Don't you know your own planet's galactic designator?"
"Galactic designator?" It was easy enough for her to figure out what a term like that probably meant, but Agatha had never heard it before. For whatever reason, her confusion seemed to be an explanation to Jane in and of itself.
"Oh. Oooooh... Your civilization hasn't developed space travel yet, has it? I see. I see." Jane was nodding at her own explanation. "Makes sense. There's no such thing as a space-faring race that hasn't come in contact with the Vexian Federation, and anybody who's met the Vexian Federation would know their own planet's designator. Those guys are pretty pushy about that sort of thing."
"Well, I've never heard of the Vexian Federation before. Last I heard, the best we've done was land on the moon and some of our probes recently made it out of the solar system."
"So does that mean you've never seen the inside of a spaceship like mine?" Jane was beaming and looking over Agatha from head to toe in a way that was making the college student a little uncomfortable. The way Jane was leering at her struck her more akin to a cat realizing that a mouse was sitting right in front of it than a stranger happy to make a new acquaintance.
"No, I haven't seen anything like it." Agatha decided to push her feelings of discomfort aside. This was her first, and most likely last, encounter with an alien lifeform. She wasn't about to let herself run away from the opportunity just because Jane was coming across as a little strange.
"Do you want to?"
"Really? I figured you want to, like, explore our planet once you had the chance or something."
"Psh, I've touched down on a hundred planets so far," Jane boasted. "Yours is the first humanoid society I've run into that hasn't figured out space travel yet. Getting to show you how my spaceship works would be way more fun than just looking around."
Agatha's excitement at not only getting to see the inside of an alien race's spacecraft but getting a guided tour at that sent any worries she had about how Jane was looking her over scattering to the wind. She practically raced her would-be-guide over to the glowing beam of light emerging from the UFO. Her excitement only grew when the lightsource somehow caused her to start floating upwards.
"Welcome to the Tievalt-37, my personal interplanetary transport vehicle. AKA: My spaceship," Jane announced after they arrived inside. Agatha's head was snapping this way and that so fast the alien was starting to get concerned if it was safe for earthlings to move like that. The college student didn't know where to look. At a glance it looked like they had been taken to the ship's cockpit. Everything in the small circular room, barely large enough for the both of them to stand in, was calling out to her for inspection. She couldn't decide if she wanted to prioritize getting a closer look at the pilot's chair with all the little buttons lining the armrests, the console in front of it with so many switches and screens lining it that they all blurred together for her, or head out the door to get a more generalized tour first.
"Tievalt-37 is a space-worthy airship certified for deep space, atmospheric, and underwater travel," Jane helpfully explained. "Like many ships capable of self-proppeled space travel these days, the Tievalt line uses tickle torture as its primary fuel source."
"...huh?" Agatha's mind went blank. What Jane had just said sounded so patently absurd she was convinced she must've misheard.
"I guess it's better to say it's fueled by the unique energy humanoid lifeforms produce while being subjected to tickle torture. Sexual energy works in a pinch too, but since the engine isn't configured for that its conversion rates are downright awful if it isn't paired with tickles. I think I had to cum over a dozen times before it even registered last time." Jane was continuing on like there was nothing out of place about her explanation.
"Wait, hold on. Your ship flies off tickling someone!?" Agatha couldn't stop herself from interjecting out of shock.
"Yep. Me specifically most of the time. It's a single person vehicle, after all." Jane pressed a couple buttons on the front console. A pair of mechanical limbs sporting steel manacles at the end emerged out of the chair in response. At the same time, more appendages were appearing with synthetic looking hands, feathers, and soft bristled brushes and started to wiggle in midair near the top of the chair. "That's why I took so long coming out. The ship was running too low on power for a safe landing. I had to strap in and give it full-body rights for an emergency refuel. By the time I was entering the atmosphere it had started to work on my breasts, and it frankly tickled so bad it took me a couple minutes to realize when I'd landed."
"How can you stand that? That sounds like torture." What few potential lovers Agatha had gotten intimate with had quickly learned that even lightly touching her armpits was a quick way to get their hand swatted away. She hated being tickled too much to stand even brief contact on the wrong spots. The idea that Jane wasn't just willingly putting herself through that, but knowingly enduring tickling so bad she completely lost track of her surroundings was unimaginable for her.
"It is, but it's the only way I can travel between planets. It was either including being tickled in my daily routine or being stuck at home for the rest of my life." Jane replied with a sad smile. "Whelp, I'd show you what your planet looks like from the outside, but the ship's running on fumes and I'm all tickled out for today. Unless you enjoy being under the feather enough to give it a go yourself, how about I show you my sleeping quarters and then we get out of here?"
Agatha gulped. She was torn. On one hand, being restrained and tickled without any way to escape sounded like nothing less than pure torture to her. On the other, the one and only chance she'd get in her life to exit Earth's atmosphere was quite literally walking out the door on her. She didn't have time to weigh her options.
"I'll do it. I'll let myself be tickled in your place, so show me what space travel is like," she called out to the pink-skinned alien. 'After all, it's just tickling, right? It's worth putting up with it if it means getting to see outer space,' she thought to herself.
"Wonderful! First things first, you're going to have to undress." Jane pointedly looked Agatha up and down again. "I find that being naked gets the best results. Underwear's fine if you're feeling shy, but the computer tends to glitch out a little when its sensors aren't over bare skin. Tell you what, if you want I can get naked too if you want."
"Please don't make this any more awkward than it already is," Agatha shot back. The college student hesitated for a moment before beginning to undress. First came off her winter jacket followed by her boots and socks. The simple white t-shirt and cargo pants soon followed, leaving her in only the frilly red underwear she'd had on underneath. Once again she hesitated, then mentally kicked herself. 'I don't want to look back and regret that my only shot was wasted because I was too modest,' she thought to herself. Finally, her underwear joined the pile in the corner. Her hands reflexively came up to cover her exposed pussy and bare C-cup breasts under Jane's appraising gaze.
"Now lie in the chair," Jane instructed. Agatha obediently did as she was told. Once she had gotten comfortable Jane hit the button that had called out the manacle-arms before. The cuffs automatically locked themselves around Agatha's wrists and ankles to stretch her arms above her head and raise the footrest so her legs were roughly perpendicular to the floor. Afterwards, Jane hopped onto the chair to straddle Agatha's waist. "Hi, I'm Jane Doe and I'll be your torture technician for today," Jane chipperly said with a wink. "Tell you what, the computer is programmed to be kinda mean. Once it finds your worst spots it'll hammer them no matter how much you cry. So how about you tell me all of your ticklish spots and I'll focus on the less tickly ones to start?"
"...my armpits are the worst," Agatha confessed. She figured that she was already putting enough trust in Jane to let herself be tied up in the nude in front of the alien. The best she could do now was hope that the alien was going to be as nice as she was acting. "After that, my feet are pretty sensitive, and my sides and tummy make me giggle a lot."
"Tummy tickles it is!" Jane exclaimed. Her long nails came down to lightly skitter all over the expanse of Agatha's toned stomach. "Mwhahaha! Scream and suffer for me, slave!" the alien joked in a sing song voice.
Agatha broke down giggling under the assault within just a couple seconds. Even with Jane going so easy on her and her tummy being one of her less sensitive spots, it tickled too much for her to hold back. She was quickly reduced to giggling and squirming under her tickler. At first she thought she would be able to stand it, but with each passing moment she was noticing that the tickles were growing a little bit more intense. The tummy skittering was picking up speed, each successive side and hip squeeze was a little bit more vicious than the last, and after she let out a squeal when Jane's finger had slipped into her bellybutton her tickler was visiting there more and more frequently.
After a couple minutes Agatha's giggling had been forced to upgrade to laughter. Jane had just spent a good 30 seconds wiggling her finger inside of her belly button while squeezing her hips with her free hands, and Agatha could only throw her head back and cackle with agonized laughter. "Enough! Please, no more!" she cried. It hadn't even been her more ticklish spot and she could barely stand the attack.
"Alright, that's enough upper body for now." The college student breathed a sigh of relief. At least Jane was willing to listen when she needed a break. She was just about to ask if she could have a couple minutes rest when she noticed her pink-skinned tormentor press a couple more buttons on the console. A tray emerged holding a number of hairbrushes, combs, and jars of unidentified oil. "You said your feet were your next most ticklish spot, yes? Let's try there next," Jane said as she grabbed a hairbrush off of the tray.
The ensuing assault on Agatha's feet didn't even have the pretense of being gentle with her. Jane had spun around to sit on her in reverse-cowgirl position, grabbed both of her big toes with one hand, and was furiously scrubbing the hairbrush all over both of her soles. Agatha was quickly reduced to steady peals of laughter and futilely attempting to buck her tickler off.
"Plehase Jane, noho more. I cahan't take ihihit!" Agatha pleaded. She had hoped that Jane would listen this time too, but all she got was a non-committal grunt of response. If anything, the tickles grew worse. A spot just below the balls of Agatha's feet had proven to coax a screech out of her whenever the brush visited those spots and Jane had chosen to drop the brush in favor of bringing all 10 fingers to bear on that spot on both feet at once. By the time she was granted another break a few minutes later Agatha was covered in sweat and wheezing for breath.
"Funny thing," Jane finally piped up. "I often find that when a ticklish girl is at someone else's mercy, the question isn't 'Can she take it?'. It's 'What does her torturer feel like doing to her today?' And I gotta say, if you're this much of a wreck when I'm not even touching your worst spot, I'm kinda wondering what happens when I do this." Jane grabbed one of the bottles of unidentified liquid off of the tray and began pouring it inside Agatha's exposed armpits. Agatha barely had enough time to catch her breath before Jane grabbed a hairbrush in each hand and brought them to her pits.
Agatha wasn't laughing anymore. She was straight up screaming. She'd never experienced tickling this horrible before. The dozens of bulbed points on the end of each brush were each sending lances of ticklish agony from her armpits to wring out every last speck of air from her lungs. Whatever that viscous liquid was, it was like it was copying whatever she experienced a fraction of a second later. The college student was thrashing in her bonds so hard to escape that Jane had to wrap her legs around the chair to stay seated.
"Like it?" Jane taunted over her victim's screams. "It's a special gel designed to memorize how a victim is tickled and replicate it. Some of the high end stuff can leave a girl screaming for hours after their tickler is done with them." Just to prove her point, Jane drew her hair brushes back. As far as Agatha was concerned she could barely tell the difference. She was left screaming for a couple minutes longer from the gel continuing to mimic the pressure of the hairbrushes scrubbing away.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" Agatha screamed when it was finally over. "LET ME GO! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!" Above even having just gone through the worst tickling of her life, the college student felt betrayed. She couldn't believe she'd placed her trust in Jane only for the alien to immediately take advantage of it to begin torturing her like this. A cruel smile spread across the alien's lips in response.
"You seem confused so I'll let you know a bit of trivia. In my planet's native language the word for 'person' is the same as 'tickling slave'. The only thing we love more than tickling each other all day long is abducting rubes like you to make our slaves. And the only thing I love even more than that is when I outright tell them they're gonna be tickled if they come along and they sign up for it!"
A pit was forming in Agatha's stomach. She could hardly believe that the first alien she'd ever heard of was from a society dedicated to tickling of all things. Further protests froze in her throat when Jane reached underneath the chair to grab the seat belt. With practiced motions she buckled it around Agatha's waist and cinched it tight to pin the college student's waist against the chair.
"W-w-what are you doing!? Stop that!" Agatha yelled in terror. She didn't know what was coming, but if it required putting her in more bondage then it couldn't be good.
"I told you, didn't I? This ship is powered by tickles and orgasms. The more the girl in the chair suffers, the more power it gets. So here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna bring you to the biggest orgasm you're ever gonna experience, and then I'm gonna tickle you so hard through it that whatever joy you could've possibly gotten out of it will be transformed into the worst feeling in the galaxy. Rinse and repeat for a good, I dunno, 15-16 hours your planet's time and we'll have enough power to use the warp drive the rest of the way home."
"No. No! No NO NO NO! GET AWAY FROM ME! DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!" Agatha screamed. Her pleas only seemed to make the cruel sneer on Jane's face even nastier. A few more button presses on the console produced a tray containing a number of vibrators and dildos. There was nothing the college student could do to resist. Jane was more skilled than any lover she'd spent a night with before. The alien alternated between massaging her victim's breasts and applying the vibrator to her clit to bring her ever closer to orgasm no matter how much she resisted. For an extra cruel twist, she refused to let her new slave cum immediately. She skillfully toyed with the girl to keep her teetering on the edge for as long as she could manage. Agatha was left torn between her increasingly desperate need for orgasm and dread at the prospect that the only thing waiting for her when it happened would be the worst torture she’d been forced to endure so far.
Jane began to giggle with joy when she finally pushed Agatha over the edge. She'd visited hundreds of worlds and abducted hundreds of women to sell at the slave market back home, and she rarely heard screams as wonderful as when she interrupted the convulsing college student underneath her by sinking her hair brushes back into those waiting pits. All of the games she could play to bring her new toy to further pits of suffering were running through her mind. This trip back was going to be enjoyable indeed... for her at least.
At 23-years-old, Agatha Richardson was in her 5th year and final semester of college. At 5'5", wavy blonde hair that fell to roughly her shoulder blades, and icy blue eyes, she wasn't exactly one of the girls who stood out much from the rest of the crowd as neither the most beautiful nor exceptionally ugly. When she thought about it, the only time anyone had really commented on her appearance in the last couple years, ignoring the rambling of drunk party-goers, was when her art major roommate had described her as "lean with a stern face" while sketching her in the common room one day. Not that it particularly mattered at the moment. Nobody else had come up the mountain with her, and even if they had it wasn't like they could see anything underneath the beige cargo pants, hiking boots, and padded blue winter jacket she had on to ward off the cold night air.
"I need a break," the woman muttered to herself. She ducked back into her tent only to emerge a moment later with her water bottle in one hand and a protein bar in the other. A picnic blanket had already been rolled out underneath her telescope, it was only a matter of gingerly sitting down on a free corner so she didn't accidentally undo the hours of work she'd just spent trying to get it setup.
Agatha gazed up at the stars overhead in between bites of her snack. She liked stargazing, she really did. It was a large part of the reason why she'd elected to become an astronomy major. But despite how many fond memories she had of playing with her toy telescope as a kid, what she'd discovered after getting into college was that camping on a mountain was a lot more fun when she was doing it because she wanted to than when it was assigned work. The stress of the fact that she still hadn't finished by 3 AM was distracting her from the beauty she normally found in viewing the night sky sans light pollution.
"A shooting star, huh?" A streak of light making its way across the night sky caught her eye. A lifetime of stargazing had let her realize that shooting stars weren't all that uncommon, but she still liked to make a wish on them from time to time. It wasn't like there was any harm in it. A couple ideas of what she could wish for flitted through her head. That her telescope would magically not be causing any more problems once she got back to it. Maybe her finals would be easy A's across the board. What she ultimately settled on was...
"Man, I wish I could go to space someday," Agatha said aloud. It was the longest shot out of everything she wanted to do in her life. Hiking up a mountain with a telescope on her back was nothing compared to the training required to be an astronaut. She frankly doubted she had what it took to make the cut. But if she ever had the chance, that was what Agatha wanted above all else. The idea of being able to travel between the stars just seemed so much more amazing than simply looking at them.
Agatha squinted at the shooting star. She'd seen enough pass over her head for her curiosity to peak when one suddenly stopped in midair. Questions about what sort of weird visual trick could be going on began springing up in the girl's mind in the several seconds it took to process that the light was growing bigger. Agatha's curiosity quickly turned to fear when it finally dawned on her that the streak of light was headed straight for her. A shriek escaped her lips and she tumbled backwards out of fright as the world around her was engulfed by the approaching light.
A few moments of silence passed. A part of Agatha's brain, the part not devoted to panicking, was wondering where there hadn't been a bigger boom. Or any noise at all for that matter. "Grass under the back of my head..." she muttered to herself. "Either the afterlife is a big meadow or I didn't get squished after all." She slowly cracked her eyes open, blinked a couple times to get rid of the lingering spots, and then immediately squeezed them shut again in disbelief.
Cracking her eyes open a second time proved that her eyes hadn't been playing tricks on her. Floating a half dozen or so meters above the treetops just a little ways up the mountain from her camp was what she could only describe as a flying saucer. The black disk slowly rotating in midair was roughly the circumference of her studio apartment. If Agatha hadn't been sitting close enough beneath it to notice the glowing pads underneath, she doubted she would've been able to make it out against the night sky at all.
'To think, an honest to goodness UFO just appeared in front of me. I can't NOT investigate it,' Agatha thought to herself. Now that she wasn't in danger of dying, curiosity once again filled the astronomy major. She was so excited to scramble up the mountain to get a closer look she forgot to even bring her camera with her.
The moment Agatha managed to hike her way directly beneath the flying saucer a circular hatch on the bottom spiraled open to grant the earthling college student her first glimpse of an alien. What caught Agatha off guard the most about it was how human the alien looked. Outside of her pink skin, green hair, and antenna sprouting out of her forehead, she looked just like a curvy human woman. The alien was slowly floating down to the ground via a beam of light shining out of the UFO's bottom hatch. Agatha got to take a little better stock of her when she finally touched down. On closer inspection, she wasn't just human looking, she was fairly pretty by human standards. Agatha doubted the combination of her long legs, soft round face, tight waist, E-cup chest, and sizeable rear end combined with the fact that she was only wearing a skin-tight leotard that left nothing to the imagination would've failed to get the guys tripping over themselves for her.
"Uhm... hello? Welcome to Earth?" Agatha nervously said with a wave. It suddenly occurred to her that she had no idea how to go about this. What exactly was the proper way of interacting with a space alien who had just arrived on your planet? It wasn't something they taught in any of her astronomy or general ed classes. Maybe that was more a political science sort of thing...
She knew for a fact the alien woman responded. At the very least she was moving her mouth and noises were coming out. What exactly any of it meant was beyond her though. An awkward silence descended between the two after the alien was done. Agatha hated moments like this. It was bad enough when they spoke enough of the same language for her to come up with an excuse to leave. When they couldn't even do that, it was unbearable. The alien woman seemed to be a little better prepared for this. She was reaching up to put her hand against her ear while muttering something.
"Sorry about that. I was a little distracted on my way in. Forgot to set my translator for this planet's languages." Agatha was shocked to hear perfectly fluent English come out of the alien's mouth next. "The name's *(@*%&!@# *!@%#(#. Can I confirm that this planet is Sol-3?"
"I, erm, I'm Agatha Richardson. Sorry, I didn't catch your name there. And for this planet... I think so? We just call it 'Earth' here."
"Ah, sorry again," the alien replied. She cupped her hand over her ear again with a frown. "It looks like my name doesn't translate well. Just call me Jane Doe. It's what my ship's computer claims is the name for unknown females for your species." A surprised look came over Jane's face at that moment. "And what do you mean you just call this planet 'Earth'? Don't you know your own planet's galactic designator?"
"Galactic designator?" It was easy enough for her to figure out what a term like that probably meant, but Agatha had never heard it before. For whatever reason, her confusion seemed to be an explanation to Jane in and of itself.
"Oh. Oooooh... Your civilization hasn't developed space travel yet, has it? I see. I see." Jane was nodding at her own explanation. "Makes sense. There's no such thing as a space-faring race that hasn't come in contact with the Vexian Federation, and anybody who's met the Vexian Federation would know their own planet's designator. Those guys are pretty pushy about that sort of thing."
"Well, I've never heard of the Vexian Federation before. Last I heard, the best we've done was land on the moon and some of our probes recently made it out of the solar system."
"So does that mean you've never seen the inside of a spaceship like mine?" Jane was beaming and looking over Agatha from head to toe in a way that was making the college student a little uncomfortable. The way Jane was leering at her struck her more akin to a cat realizing that a mouse was sitting right in front of it than a stranger happy to make a new acquaintance.
"No, I haven't seen anything like it." Agatha decided to push her feelings of discomfort aside. This was her first, and most likely last, encounter with an alien lifeform. She wasn't about to let herself run away from the opportunity just because Jane was coming across as a little strange.
"Do you want to?"
"Really? I figured you want to, like, explore our planet once you had the chance or something."
"Psh, I've touched down on a hundred planets so far," Jane boasted. "Yours is the first humanoid society I've run into that hasn't figured out space travel yet. Getting to show you how my spaceship works would be way more fun than just looking around."
Agatha's excitement at not only getting to see the inside of an alien race's spacecraft but getting a guided tour at that sent any worries she had about how Jane was looking her over scattering to the wind. She practically raced her would-be-guide over to the glowing beam of light emerging from the UFO. Her excitement only grew when the lightsource somehow caused her to start floating upwards.
"Welcome to the Tievalt-37, my personal interplanetary transport vehicle. AKA: My spaceship," Jane announced after they arrived inside. Agatha's head was snapping this way and that so fast the alien was starting to get concerned if it was safe for earthlings to move like that. The college student didn't know where to look. At a glance it looked like they had been taken to the ship's cockpit. Everything in the small circular room, barely large enough for the both of them to stand in, was calling out to her for inspection. She couldn't decide if she wanted to prioritize getting a closer look at the pilot's chair with all the little buttons lining the armrests, the console in front of it with so many switches and screens lining it that they all blurred together for her, or head out the door to get a more generalized tour first.
"Tievalt-37 is a space-worthy airship certified for deep space, atmospheric, and underwater travel," Jane helpfully explained. "Like many ships capable of self-proppeled space travel these days, the Tievalt line uses tickle torture as its primary fuel source."
"...huh?" Agatha's mind went blank. What Jane had just said sounded so patently absurd she was convinced she must've misheard.
"I guess it's better to say it's fueled by the unique energy humanoid lifeforms produce while being subjected to tickle torture. Sexual energy works in a pinch too, but since the engine isn't configured for that its conversion rates are downright awful if it isn't paired with tickles. I think I had to cum over a dozen times before it even registered last time." Jane was continuing on like there was nothing out of place about her explanation.
"Wait, hold on. Your ship flies off tickling someone!?" Agatha couldn't stop herself from interjecting out of shock.
"Yep. Me specifically most of the time. It's a single person vehicle, after all." Jane pressed a couple buttons on the front console. A pair of mechanical limbs sporting steel manacles at the end emerged out of the chair in response. At the same time, more appendages were appearing with synthetic looking hands, feathers, and soft bristled brushes and started to wiggle in midair near the top of the chair. "That's why I took so long coming out. The ship was running too low on power for a safe landing. I had to strap in and give it full-body rights for an emergency refuel. By the time I was entering the atmosphere it had started to work on my breasts, and it frankly tickled so bad it took me a couple minutes to realize when I'd landed."
"How can you stand that? That sounds like torture." What few potential lovers Agatha had gotten intimate with had quickly learned that even lightly touching her armpits was a quick way to get their hand swatted away. She hated being tickled too much to stand even brief contact on the wrong spots. The idea that Jane wasn't just willingly putting herself through that, but knowingly enduring tickling so bad she completely lost track of her surroundings was unimaginable for her.
"It is, but it's the only way I can travel between planets. It was either including being tickled in my daily routine or being stuck at home for the rest of my life." Jane replied with a sad smile. "Whelp, I'd show you what your planet looks like from the outside, but the ship's running on fumes and I'm all tickled out for today. Unless you enjoy being under the feather enough to give it a go yourself, how about I show you my sleeping quarters and then we get out of here?"
Agatha gulped. She was torn. On one hand, being restrained and tickled without any way to escape sounded like nothing less than pure torture to her. On the other, the one and only chance she'd get in her life to exit Earth's atmosphere was quite literally walking out the door on her. She didn't have time to weigh her options.
"I'll do it. I'll let myself be tickled in your place, so show me what space travel is like," she called out to the pink-skinned alien. 'After all, it's just tickling, right? It's worth putting up with it if it means getting to see outer space,' she thought to herself.
"Wonderful! First things first, you're going to have to undress." Jane pointedly looked Agatha up and down again. "I find that being naked gets the best results. Underwear's fine if you're feeling shy, but the computer tends to glitch out a little when its sensors aren't over bare skin. Tell you what, if you want I can get naked too if you want."
"Please don't make this any more awkward than it already is," Agatha shot back. The college student hesitated for a moment before beginning to undress. First came off her winter jacket followed by her boots and socks. The simple white t-shirt and cargo pants soon followed, leaving her in only the frilly red underwear she'd had on underneath. Once again she hesitated, then mentally kicked herself. 'I don't want to look back and regret that my only shot was wasted because I was too modest,' she thought to herself. Finally, her underwear joined the pile in the corner. Her hands reflexively came up to cover her exposed pussy and bare C-cup breasts under Jane's appraising gaze.
"Now lie in the chair," Jane instructed. Agatha obediently did as she was told. Once she had gotten comfortable Jane hit the button that had called out the manacle-arms before. The cuffs automatically locked themselves around Agatha's wrists and ankles to stretch her arms above her head and raise the footrest so her legs were roughly perpendicular to the floor. Afterwards, Jane hopped onto the chair to straddle Agatha's waist. "Hi, I'm Jane Doe and I'll be your torture technician for today," Jane chipperly said with a wink. "Tell you what, the computer is programmed to be kinda mean. Once it finds your worst spots it'll hammer them no matter how much you cry. So how about you tell me all of your ticklish spots and I'll focus on the less tickly ones to start?"
"...my armpits are the worst," Agatha confessed. She figured that she was already putting enough trust in Jane to let herself be tied up in the nude in front of the alien. The best she could do now was hope that the alien was going to be as nice as she was acting. "After that, my feet are pretty sensitive, and my sides and tummy make me giggle a lot."
"Tummy tickles it is!" Jane exclaimed. Her long nails came down to lightly skitter all over the expanse of Agatha's toned stomach. "Mwhahaha! Scream and suffer for me, slave!" the alien joked in a sing song voice.
Agatha broke down giggling under the assault within just a couple seconds. Even with Jane going so easy on her and her tummy being one of her less sensitive spots, it tickled too much for her to hold back. She was quickly reduced to giggling and squirming under her tickler. At first she thought she would be able to stand it, but with each passing moment she was noticing that the tickles were growing a little bit more intense. The tummy skittering was picking up speed, each successive side and hip squeeze was a little bit more vicious than the last, and after she let out a squeal when Jane's finger had slipped into her bellybutton her tickler was visiting there more and more frequently.
After a couple minutes Agatha's giggling had been forced to upgrade to laughter. Jane had just spent a good 30 seconds wiggling her finger inside of her belly button while squeezing her hips with her free hands, and Agatha could only throw her head back and cackle with agonized laughter. "Enough! Please, no more!" she cried. It hadn't even been her more ticklish spot and she could barely stand the attack.
"Alright, that's enough upper body for now." The college student breathed a sigh of relief. At least Jane was willing to listen when she needed a break. She was just about to ask if she could have a couple minutes rest when she noticed her pink-skinned tormentor press a couple more buttons on the console. A tray emerged holding a number of hairbrushes, combs, and jars of unidentified oil. "You said your feet were your next most ticklish spot, yes? Let's try there next," Jane said as she grabbed a hairbrush off of the tray.
The ensuing assault on Agatha's feet didn't even have the pretense of being gentle with her. Jane had spun around to sit on her in reverse-cowgirl position, grabbed both of her big toes with one hand, and was furiously scrubbing the hairbrush all over both of her soles. Agatha was quickly reduced to steady peals of laughter and futilely attempting to buck her tickler off.
"Plehase Jane, noho more. I cahan't take ihihit!" Agatha pleaded. She had hoped that Jane would listen this time too, but all she got was a non-committal grunt of response. If anything, the tickles grew worse. A spot just below the balls of Agatha's feet had proven to coax a screech out of her whenever the brush visited those spots and Jane had chosen to drop the brush in favor of bringing all 10 fingers to bear on that spot on both feet at once. By the time she was granted another break a few minutes later Agatha was covered in sweat and wheezing for breath.
"Funny thing," Jane finally piped up. "I often find that when a ticklish girl is at someone else's mercy, the question isn't 'Can she take it?'. It's 'What does her torturer feel like doing to her today?' And I gotta say, if you're this much of a wreck when I'm not even touching your worst spot, I'm kinda wondering what happens when I do this." Jane grabbed one of the bottles of unidentified liquid off of the tray and began pouring it inside Agatha's exposed armpits. Agatha barely had enough time to catch her breath before Jane grabbed a hairbrush in each hand and brought them to her pits.
Agatha wasn't laughing anymore. She was straight up screaming. She'd never experienced tickling this horrible before. The dozens of bulbed points on the end of each brush were each sending lances of ticklish agony from her armpits to wring out every last speck of air from her lungs. Whatever that viscous liquid was, it was like it was copying whatever she experienced a fraction of a second later. The college student was thrashing in her bonds so hard to escape that Jane had to wrap her legs around the chair to stay seated.
"Like it?" Jane taunted over her victim's screams. "It's a special gel designed to memorize how a victim is tickled and replicate it. Some of the high end stuff can leave a girl screaming for hours after their tickler is done with them." Just to prove her point, Jane drew her hair brushes back. As far as Agatha was concerned she could barely tell the difference. She was left screaming for a couple minutes longer from the gel continuing to mimic the pressure of the hairbrushes scrubbing away.
"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING!?" Agatha screamed when it was finally over. "LET ME GO! THIS ISN'T FUNNY!" Above even having just gone through the worst tickling of her life, the college student felt betrayed. She couldn't believe she'd placed her trust in Jane only for the alien to immediately take advantage of it to begin torturing her like this. A cruel smile spread across the alien's lips in response.
"You seem confused so I'll let you know a bit of trivia. In my planet's native language the word for 'person' is the same as 'tickling slave'. The only thing we love more than tickling each other all day long is abducting rubes like you to make our slaves. And the only thing I love even more than that is when I outright tell them they're gonna be tickled if they come along and they sign up for it!"
A pit was forming in Agatha's stomach. She could hardly believe that the first alien she'd ever heard of was from a society dedicated to tickling of all things. Further protests froze in her throat when Jane reached underneath the chair to grab the seat belt. With practiced motions she buckled it around Agatha's waist and cinched it tight to pin the college student's waist against the chair.
"W-w-what are you doing!? Stop that!" Agatha yelled in terror. She didn't know what was coming, but if it required putting her in more bondage then it couldn't be good.
"I told you, didn't I? This ship is powered by tickles and orgasms. The more the girl in the chair suffers, the more power it gets. So here's what we're gonna do. I'm gonna bring you to the biggest orgasm you're ever gonna experience, and then I'm gonna tickle you so hard through it that whatever joy you could've possibly gotten out of it will be transformed into the worst feeling in the galaxy. Rinse and repeat for a good, I dunno, 15-16 hours your planet's time and we'll have enough power to use the warp drive the rest of the way home."
"No. No! No NO NO NO! GET AWAY FROM ME! DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!" Agatha screamed. Her pleas only seemed to make the cruel sneer on Jane's face even nastier. A few more button presses on the console produced a tray containing a number of vibrators and dildos. There was nothing the college student could do to resist. Jane was more skilled than any lover she'd spent a night with before. The alien alternated between massaging her victim's breasts and applying the vibrator to her clit to bring her ever closer to orgasm no matter how much she resisted. For an extra cruel twist, she refused to let her new slave cum immediately. She skillfully toyed with the girl to keep her teetering on the edge for as long as she could manage. Agatha was left torn between her increasingly desperate need for orgasm and dread at the prospect that the only thing waiting for her when it happened would be the worst torture she’d been forced to endure so far.
Jane began to giggle with joy when she finally pushed Agatha over the edge. She'd visited hundreds of worlds and abducted hundreds of women to sell at the slave market back home, and she rarely heard screams as wonderful as when she interrupted the convulsing college student underneath her by sinking her hair brushes back into those waiting pits. All of the games she could play to bring her new toy to further pits of suffering were running through her mind. This trip back was going to be enjoyable indeed... for her at least.
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