Howdy, TMF friends!
I'm having more fun with this commission than I ever thought I would, and there's no signs that the Andromeda story-world is ending any time soon.
Once again I strongly recommend that you read earlier episodes so you can get an idea of the big picture, and you can do so here:
Andromeda 1: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showt...-part-1-(fff-f-non-con)&p=4785111#post4785111
Andromeda 2: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showt...-part-2-(fff-f-non-con)&p=4697967#post4697967
Andromeda 3: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showt...omeda-part-3-(f-f-ff-f)&p=4713292#post4713292
Andromeda 4: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?341137-Andromeda-part-4-(fff-f)&p=4741088#post4741088
Andromeda 5: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?346842-Andromeda-part-5-(fff-f)
Then again, you might just want to take this one on and then read the others as prequels--who knows?
Either way, leave a comment when you've read, and then read someone else's story and leave a comment!
KI
Andromeda part 6 (f/f, fff/f, ff/f)
by
Kid Indy
Well-worn wheels made their way through the produce section at Dillon’s. A stop at the apples and oranges stand, a pause to pick out strawberries, and dutiful acquisition of vegetables went as routinely as they ever did.
A new pair of eyes watched and followed.
Up and down the aisles the cart went, timely as one could hope. The shopper nodded politely at familiar faces at the suburban Topeka grocery store, and the cart almost seemed to drive itself to the check-out line.
The watcher moved through motorized doors and out into the parking lot and the spring air.
The shopper pushed her newly-purchased groceries across the parking lot, her mind already on the phone calls to pollsters that she would have to place when she got back to her house, her family, her work. She lifted the groceries out in the order she always did: liquids first so they wouldn’t crush the other groceries, then canned and boxed goods, and produce last. As her hand lighted on a bag of vegetables, she heard an unfamiliar woman’s voice behind her.
“Photos from the Washington days really don’t do you justice. You’re really pretty.” A hand instinctively went to a purse and fumbled to open a zipper and go for a phone. “No need for that, Traci.”
The shopper looked at the other woman’s sunglasses and tried to slow her breathing. “Who are you?”
“I’ve left you voicemails several times, but you’ve never returned my calls. But now I really need to talk to you.” The woman extended a business card, and Traci Carter took it. “Go home and put away your groceries now, but don’t keep me waiting.” With that the woman turned on her heel and started across the parking lot, where Traci Carter saw her get into a gray sedan.
She looked down at the business card in her hand. “Katie Jones, Interest Politics Journal, Senior Reporter.” On the back, in blue pen, it read, “Heartland Motorsports Park. Parking Lot. Tuesday. 11:15 AM. Urgent.”
* * * * * * *
The mobile phone rang twice before anyone picked it up. “Hello?”
“Is this Katie Jones?”
“Yes, Katie Jones. Who is this?”
“Oh thank God! I need to talk to you so badly!”
“Slow down. Who is this?”
“My name is Jennifer Chung. I was running for U.S. Senate from Massachussetts.”
“Yes, I know who you are. What’s going on?”
“The Andromeda squad that abducted you–I have information on them! Andromeda abducted me, but a different squad than the one that got to you in South Carolina. When they were torturing me, I found out something really important about your Andromeda squad.”
Katie reached for her notebook. “Location? Next target?”
“I don’t want to say over the phone–they might be following me. Where can I meet you?”
“I’m on assignment right now. I won’t be back until next Monday.”
“I don’t know if I have that long. I can come to you. Where are you?”
Katie looked at the calendar on her phone. “How fast can you get to Topeka?”
* * * * * * *
On a race weekend, hundreds of pickup trucks and SUVs and cars crowded the speedway’s gravel lot. On weekdays, the Heartland’s parking lot was a sea of forlorn gravel and heroic, unstoppable weeds. Traci Carter’s minivan wheels bumped through the ruts as she made her way to a shaded part of the lot where she spotted the rented Toyota that Traci Carter was driving. She pulled in next to her and stepped out of her minivan. Katie Jones stepped out of her rental.
“I don’t have long–I told the office I was running a couple errands before lunch, but they’re watching me.”
“Your bank?”
“Andromeda.”
“Then we’ll get right to it. What did you give them before they sent you out here?”
“What do you mean?”
“They had some kind of leverage on you. What did you give them on the health care bill negotiations?”
Traci Carter’s face was turning bright red. “I came out here because they said they’d abduct me and torture me again. And now you’re digging into things that are going to bring them back!”
Katie took a step closer. “What information did you give them when they tortured you?”
Carter looked away from the reporter. “You have no idea…”
Katie reached out a hand and put it on Traci Carter’s shoulder. “No, Traci. I do. You might not have read my stories, but they abducted me too.”
Carter’s eyes suddenly locked onto Katie’s. “You’re just one woman, Jones. Andromeda–”
Traci Carter’s sentence trailed off as the air filled with the sounds of loud gasoline motors. Three motorcycles–one from the highway and two out of the woods–tore through the gravel parking lot and circled the two women’s vehicles. The journalist and the banker froze as their circle tightened, and within seconds they were close enough that Katie Jones could see that their riders were women, probably young, definitely athletic.
The bikes came to a stop in front of the two women, and as the one in the middle reached for her helmet, Katie prepared herself to look once more into the eyes of Zoe or Gina. Instead the helmet unveiled a new face, pretty and young like her torturers but blonde, and when the other two removed their helmets Katie recognized none of them.
The blond spoke with a southern accent. “Traci Carter, what are you doing talking to a reporter?”
Traci’s hands went into frantic gestures. “She ambushed me in town. I thought she was going to expose me!”
Another of the bikers spoke up, and Katie guessed that she was from Guatemala or Honduras. “You know what happens if you talk to reporters, Traci. We know where to find Maddie.”
Katie turned to Carter. “Maddie?”
“Please, leave her alone! Take me! She doesn’t have anything to do with this!”
The third was talking now. Traci guessed Korean-American. “I think she’d make a great Andromeda agent, Traci. So pretty. So smart. I think her future is bright!”
The southern blonde jumped in again. “I’ll bet she’s just as ticklish as Mom too!” The three laughed.
“No! Please! I’ll do anything! Just leave her alone!”
Katie had figured out enough. “Wait. If you’re Andromeda, you know who I am. I tracked down Traci and told her to meet me here. She isn’t responsible for this.”
The central-American Andromeda stepped forward. “She has a ticklish recruit that we’re looking at. What do you have?”
Katie’s mind raced. “I’ll turn myself over to you. Give me two days to let Interest know I’m going deep-cover, and I’ll meet you wherever you tell me to and turn myself over.”
Now the Korean: “Katie, you don’t have any secrets that we need! You’re a journalist–you write down everything for anyone to read! I want the ticklish college girl!”
Katie gritted her teeth. “I know about Andromeda’s plans. Your national plans. Let Carter go, and in two days I’ll meet with you and let you know what I have.”
The blond signaled for the other two to step back, and they did. “Two days, huh? You think you’ll be able to set a trap for us in two days?”
“No traps. Just leave Carter alone.”
“I think we can cut that deal. So here’s what’s going to happen now. You get in your car, and we’re going to follow you back to where you’re staying. If you try to contact Carter again, then young Maddie is going away, and not to Saint Louis University. We’re going to tickle her until she’s one of us, and then Mommy Dearest is going in for another tickling that she’s never going to forget while Maddie watches.” Traci Carter shuddered in panic. “If you try to set a trap for us, Maddie is ours. If you try to run, Maddie is ours. Are you understanding me, Jones?”
Katie nodded.
“Two days from now, at 10:30 PM, you’re going to get an address texted to you. When you get there, you’ll get further instructions. Try to get away, and Maddie is ours. Try to have us followed–”
“And Maddie is yours. I get it.”
“And hold out on the information you’ve got–”
“Yes, I get it–if I try anything, you take Traci’s daughter.”
“No, if you hold out on us, I’m not even going to worry about Maddie. I’ve read your stories. I want to get that information myself, our way. We’re going to have those feet of yours, Katie, and you’re going to tell us everything. You’re going to beg to tell us more. And when you have no more secrets left, that’s when I’m really going to enjoy tickling you.” Katie glared in defiance. “Now get in that car, and drive directly to where you’re staying.”
Katie turned and started towards her car. The Andromeda biker turned towards Traci Carter. “You know what’s on the line, Carter. You know that if we get ahold of Madison, she’s ours for life. Now go back to your bank, and if anyone ever asks you about us again, you don’t meet up in an abandoned parking lot. You contact us. We might just see you for a late-night session just to remind you–be sure to answer our calls!”
The three girls laughed together. Katie Jones shifted her rented car into reverse. Tomorrow’s meeting with Jen Chung might be her only ace now.
* * * * * * *
As the sun set, Katie drove an erratic, looping route, almost fifty miles of back roads and doubling her tracks and detours through small towns before she arrived at the farmhouse fifteen miles outside of Topeka. Jen Chung had assured her that she had paid indirectly with crypto under a false name, and Katie saw only one mid-sized sedan–almost certainly a rental–in the driveway.
Tomorrow night Katie would surrender herself to three Andromeda girls she had never met, and this was going to be her shot to get word back to Washington about what was really happening. Looking this way and that in the descending darkness, she approached the AirBnB’s front door.
She knocked.
Footsteps approached the door inside.
The door opened, and Katie recognized Jen Chung’s face from the news stories. “Miss Jones! I’m so glad to see you!”
“You can call me Katie. Let’s get inside.”
Jen Chung nodded and let her in. “You’re the first person I’ve told about this, but you know more about Andromeda than anyone, so I wanted to talk to you.”
“What did you tell your campaign?”
“There is no more campaign. When they grabbed me, I had just come from sending everyone home for the last time. As far as anyone knows, I just took the weekend away. You’re the only one who knows.”
“Who were the girls?”
“Lisa, Carla, and Hana.”
Katie raised an eyebrow. “One Latina and one Korean?”
“And one blond Texan. Did you describe them wrong in your news stories so they wouldn’t grab you again?”
“No, but I think that the three who grabbed you are here in Kansas.”
“What? Oh my God! Let me sit down.” Katie followed her into the small house’s bedroom, where Jen sat on the side of the bed and took off her shoes.
Katie found herself staring but shook it off. “I tried to meet with Traci Carter to follow up on some information that I got, and they knew where to find us meeting. So they must be working with Gina’s squad on something.”
Jen pulled her feet up onto the bed, crossed her legs, and gestured for Katie to stop. “No, that’s not it! Those three told me that the squad who picked you up was a breakaway group, a splinter cell from Andromeda!”
Katie’s head spun at the implications. “Okay, I didn’t see that one coming. So that means…”
“They might be in Kansas looking for leads on the rogue Andromeda girls?”
“Maybe.” Her purpose suddenly returned to her. “Jen, I need your help.”
“Katie, I’m scared. What if helping you means they find me again?”
“Jen, when they caught Carter and me, they made me promise to turn myself over to them tomorrow. You’re my only chance at getting word to Washington before they make me tell them everything I know about their larger plans.”
“Larger plans?”
“They’ve been operating in the shadows for years, but starting with Carter–or maybe with Angie Hamilton–they started making bigger moves. I’m starting to put that picture together, but if they know what I know, they’ll just change things up, and all of my work will be for nothing. You need to get word to Interest and to Elizabeth Morton early tomorrow so that they can–”
“Elizabeth who?”
“Morton. Elizabeth Morton. Department of Homeland Security. She’ll know what to do.”
“Katie, I don’t know…”
“Jen, whatever they have planned, it’s big. It could put the whole country in danger.”
“Then why are you turning yourself over to them?”
Katie paused a moment. Why was she doing that? “Because I can’t stand the thought of Madison Carter becoming one of them.”
“Who’s that?”
“Traci Carter’s daughter. 19. If I don’t play ball with your Andromeda squad, they’re going to grab her and torture her until she’s one of them.”
“This is tickling, Katie, not werewolves. They can’t just turn her into one of them!”
Katie paused again, then looked again at Jen’s bare feet. “I’m not so sure of that.”
“Sit down with me, Katie.” Katie sat. “I know why you’re afraid of them. You didn’t write about it in your stories, but I know what they can do to a woman’s body.” Katie stared into her eyes now. “Sexually.” Katie’s mouth opened slightly, and she looked back to Jen’s feet. “They did it to me too.” She put a hand on Katie’s, and once again their eyes locked.
“Then you understand why I can’t…”
“Yes, I know. Katie, I’ll get word back to Washington for you. But tonight I need something else from you.”
“What?”
“I need to remember what it feels like to have someone touch me without wanting to control my mind.”
Katie pulled her hand back. “What are you saying?”
“Tickle my feet, Katie.” Katie’s pulse raced. She tried to pull her eyes away from Jen’s feet, but she could feel her eyes wanting to return. “I brought extra nightgowns with me, and you’re not much bigger than I am. Stay here with me tonight, and let me feel like a woman again, and tomorrow I’ll make sure your editors and DHS know exactly where you are.”
Katie’s mind drowned in a sea of hormones. Whatever Zoe and Gina and Casi had done to her, the idea of tickling the council woman's feet didn’t repulse her; to the contrary, only the part of her mind focused on the journalistic mission had any objection at all. That part of her mind spoke up. “I’m being watched, Jen. If I stay here too long, they could find us here, and then you’d be in danger again.”
“We’re not anywhere they’d look, Katie. Just one night, and you can go back into town in a few hours.”
Katie could not believe herself, but in moments that seemed more dream than reality, she let Jen lead her to the council woman’s luggage, where she handed Katie a red silk nightgown. In the house’s second bedroom Katie took off her clothes and slid the silk over her skin. No doubt the councilwoman would have worn it loose, but it hugged Katie’s body, and it only covered her bottom when she stood straight–when Katie bent at all, the bottom of her bottom became visible. She went back to the main bedroom, where Jen had changed into a royal blue silk negligee, and the councilwoman gestured for the reporter to join her on the bed. Katie lowered herself onto the mattress, feeling the cool air on her bottom as she did.
“Tickle my feet, Katie.”
The councilwoman extended a leg to Katie, and she received her foot in a gentle grasp. Katie’s fingers began slowly to stroke the politician’s sole, and the giggle that bounced through the air was nothing short of electricity in Katie’s ears. All she wanted was more, and Katie’s fingers sped up, pinching at Jen’s instep. Jen’s hands came up to cover her mouth in a bashful play, and Katie’s hands moved as fast as they could, her body wanting nothing more than to make this beautiful Korean-American woman laugh. Jen squealed when Katie’s fingers found their way between her toes, and Katie began to laugh with abandon to match Jen’s girlish giggling.
Soon Jen Chung’s hands drifted downward from her mouth to grasp her own torso in a kind of ecstatic embrace, and as Katie kept tickling, she could hear the council woman start to moan in between her giggles. Whatever chance Katie had of observing the scene objectively was gone; she could feel her own abdomen start to tighten, her own lips starting to part in a moan. As she tickled the foot in her grasp, her eyes closed, and the movement of the mattress underneath and the intoxicating laughter in the air washed over her.
Then her world exploded into electric sensation: fingertips, short nails, had pinched the silk against her hip. Katie shrieked at the sudden sensation, her eyes flying open. Jen Chung’s eyes twinkled with playful delight. “Oh, Katie, where did you go? You didn’t even see that coming, did you?”
“Don’t touch me–I don’t like that!”
Jen Chung had pulled her legs underneath herself and crawled towards Katie on the bed. “Come on, Katie. There’s nobody to impress here. You and I were both their prisoners. We know what they can do to our bodies… and our passions.”
Katie gulped but did not move away as Jen moved in close. “No… I didn’t want…”
“Not at first you didn’t, but you don’t have to lie to me, Katie. Give me your foot.”
“No…”
“Come on, Katie. Let’s enjoy the chance we have here!” And with that, Jen Chung leaned in and kissed Katie Jones, their lips immediately finding each other and both mouths seeking companions in the dark night. Katie would not have believed herself capable of this desire, even inclined to imagine it, but Jen Chung’s mouth simply drew her in. They embraced for a moment, and then Jen started pinching at Katie’s ribs. Katie melted under the touches and sat back on the bed. “Give me that foot, Katie. You know what you want. You give me a foot, and I’ll give you a foot, and let’s see who’s more ticklish!”
The word send a pulse of desire through Katie’s body, from her ears down to her soles, and she did not so much extend her leg as watch her leg extend itself so that her heel rested on Jen’s thigh. “Please be gentle.”
Jen wrapped slender fingers around Katie’s ankle. “You know that’ll be even more torture, right?”
Katie nodded her head and closed her eyes as she felt Jen’s calf extend across her thigh. “Alright. Let’s do this!” Katie felt a smile spread across her face, and she started to tickle Jen’s toes. The councilwoman didn’t release her grip on Katie’s leg, but she didn’t tickle Katie either. Instead Katie could feel Jen’s body responding to her touch as her giggling shook her body. Katie began to giggle herself, feeling the councilwoman’s responses and enjoying the sensation of the woman’s pleasure. Without thinking about it Katie closed her eyes, letting her ears and her hands take in the moment.
Then Katie’s own foot joined the show. Jen Chung started to scratch at Katie’s sole, and the reporter squealed at the sensation. This wasn’t like what she had suffered at the hands of Zoe and Casi and Gina–no part of her, body or mind, wanted the councilwoman to stop, even though she kept some sense that a version of her in the distant past might have been horrified.
The distant past–before South Carolina? No matter. Katie’s hand greedily pinched and scratched at Jen Chung’s foot even as the councilwoman’s hand drove Katie into fits of giggling as they kneaded at her ticklish skin. Before long both women were moaning, their ticklish skin turning the very air into pleasure that they could breathe in and breathe out, where Katie could taste the laughter of the woman she had just met. Katie felt familiar surges pulse through her thighs, between her hips, and her laughter welled up between gasps and moans.
She felt Jen’s hips moving on the bed, and she matched the councilwoman’s movements, each grasping the other’s thigh under an arm as their legs spread. Each reached an eager hand across the collapsing space between them, and Katie began to rub Jen Chung, making her gasps deeper and her moans louder. Jen pinched Katie’s inner thigh, making her shriek and squirm, but then matched Katie’s motions, and the women’s bodies twisted together, writhed in glorious ecstasy, fell together back to the mattress, then to a place, face to face, where they could lock lips while each of them caressed the other into release.
Katie’s eyes finally opened, and her eyes rolled back into her head as she bathed in the sensations. Jen smiled at her, watching the journalist’s pleasure.
The two lay together for a time that Katie could not count. Some part of her knew what had just happened, but she wouldn’t let her mind even name it, much less her mouth speak it.
Then in the darkness Katie heard a pair of hands clapping.
Katie sat up, panicked, and reached desperately for a lamp. Before she could find it, the overhead light in the room turned on, and Katie’s dark-addled eyes looked up to see the tall blonde from the parking lot. Her Texas accent was unmistakable.
“That might have been the hottest thing I’ve seen in a long time!”
Katie looked around frantically. The agents were fanning out so that one of them was between the women and any window or door. Then Katie’s eyes turned to face Jen Chung, and Katie’s horror overcame her: the Boston City Councilwoman still lay on the mattress, an orgasmic grin still on her face, leering at Katie.
“You brought them here!”
“They told me about your deal, Katie! And now poor young Maddie Carter is going for a long vacation from college, and they’re going to let her know it’s your fault!”
“I can’t believe…”
“What, that the politician who lost her career because she loved being tickled so much would be working with covert operatives who tickle women? You’re usually such a good reporter, Katie!” The three Andromeda girls laughed at Katie’s agony.
“Please! You can’t do this to Traci Carter’s daughter! Traci didn’t know I was going to do this!”
The young Korean giggled at her. “Don’t worry–we’ll let her know you handed her over just before we let her practice on your feet. We’re going to need some test subjects to get her professional-level!”
“What do you want from me? Just stay away from Maddie!”
The blond Texan spoke again. “So you’re on a first-name basis with her now, are you?” Her eyes locked Katie’s.
“What do you want from me? This can’t be about a college kid in Missouri.”
“You’re going to come with us, and you’re going to do everything we say. You’re going to contact Washington and tell them exactly what we say, and then you’re going to surrender your phone.”
Katie, in her borrowed intimate wear, knew that she had no choice. She was not going to escape; the best she could hope for was to keep an innocent out of the line of fire. She glared at Jen Chung, who was enjoying the show. “Can I go back to my hotel and get some clothes?”
Now the Honduran spoke up. “You paid for the hotel room with cash, and you used a false name. Give us the key, and we’ll pick up your things.”
Katie’s eyes narrowed. She looked at the Texan again and nodded.
* * * * * * *
“Morton here.”
“Wait. Where are you?”
“Okay. And you’re sure it’s Andromeda?”
“Katie, you shouldn’t have brought Traci Carter back into this. I’m on my way out there. Be careful.”
* * * * * * *
The SUV never made any sudden stops, never accelerated with anything but deliberate patience, never took a hard corner. For a span that Katie could not track with only the memory of the van’s momentum, the ride was smooth, and Katie could only see the inside of the silk bag over her head. She knew that Jen Chung and one of the Andromeda girls were up front, and the other two flanked her on the van’s middle seat. But that was all her senses would give her.
* * * * * * *
“Hey, Glen, this is Katie. I’m starting to uncover some good material, so I’m going to go dark for a few days. I’ll call back when I can start filing stories.”
“Yes, Glen, I’ll be careful. I’ll call as soon as I can. Don’t contact me–I need the cover right now.”
* * * * * * *
When the SUV stopped, Katie was certain that they had come off of paved roads and out onto gravel. Nothing new there: Andromeda torture houses tended to be out of the way. Unlike South Carolina, here in Kansas Katie marched along with the Andromeda girls, faces she had met and who, if Chung were telling the truth, were “official” Andromeda to the “rogue” Andromeda she met before.
She intended to get to the bottom of that too.
But for now, the trip was all too familiar: they marched up a flight of stairs instead of down, but when they reached the floor where the torture was going to happen, they sat Katie down on a leather seat–she could already guess it was going to be a modified obstetrician’s exam chair. Quick, skilled hands strapped padded cuffs to each of Katie’s ankles, and she could feel her legs move with the chair’s extensions on a swivel.
Yep. The chair.
Katie hadn’t experienced that apparatus in South Carolina, but since she had become an expert on Andromeda, she knew that this was a standard apparatus. The hands secured her wrists, with two more padded cuffs, to the armrests, and Katie took a deep breath to prepare for what was coming when they removed the silk bag.
Katie gritted her teeth as the bag began to pull over her head. The three girls were there, but not Jen Chung. She looked and saw that the Korean was in the spotter’s position, with the Honduran and the Texan each at one of her feet. She found herself nursing a vain hope that this trio would not be as skilled as the girls who came to know her so intimately in South Carolina.
The spotter spoke. “I’m Hana, but Jenny Chung already told you that, didn’t she?” Katie didn’t speak but tried to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth, to steady herself for what she knew was coming. “Did she tell you that these are Lisa and Carla?” Katie looked past her at the wall. Hana just leaned over so that her grinning face occupied Katie’s glare. “Hmm? Did she?”
“I told Chung everything I know. I don’t know why you brought me here.”
The Honduran let out an evil chuckle. “We’ll decide what you know and what you don’t know, Katie Jones. But you are right that you saved us some time by telling the Council woman everything you told her.”
“So I guess you won’t have to tickle me as much?”
Now the Texan laughed. “You know that’s not how this works, Katie. What you know is the work part of what we do. Once we get that out of the way we can start having our real fun.” Both of the other girls grinned as she laid out the plan.
“Look, Zoe and Casi and Gina already did everything to me that Andromeda does to a woman. I know you’re going to tickle me. I know you’re going to force me into orgasm. None of this is news.”
Lisa (Katie was thinking their names now) laughed and began to trace a fingertip up and down Katie’s sole. “Come on, Katie. We all saw you with Jen Chung.” Hearing her name, Katie let slip her first giggle, and Lisa’s finger sped up. Katie felt Carla’s fingernails on her other foot’s sole, and her toes curled in vain flight. “You’re not going to sit there and pretend you don’t love what a good foot-tickling does to your libido.” The Texan accent saying the Latin word was suddenly the funniest thing that Katie had heard all night, and her belly betrayed her, letting out a squeal and unleashing a bouncing laugh. Both Andromeda girls were going full speed now, and Katie realized that she had forgotten just how intense the feeling was, the touching, the giggling, the utter hopelessness at their hands. She moaned as she felt the last bit of defiance leave her, and then the laughter filled every space in her being. These girls were every bit as skilled as her first ticklers, and Katie began to remember the utter helplessness that comes with an Andromeda tickling.
“Please! I don’t know anything else!”
Hana laughed from the stool. “Keep begging, Katie, it’s really cute, but you know we’re not after any information yet. You might just lie to us!”
Carla joined the taunting. “We’re going to tickle you until you want to do anything we tell you to, just so you can keep feeling that feeling. And then we’re going to tickle you more just to make sure you know who’s giving the orders here.”
Katie squealed and moaned and giggled as they kept at her feet, and she felt Carla release her foot. Lisa kept tickling, and Katie kept giggling, but Katie did manage to look up to see Hana taking her post at Katie’s left foot. Hana was a silly girl, but she tickled like a devil, and Katie’s ankle tried to thrash this way and that to avoid her fingers. Nothing brought her relief, of course: Hana was every bit the torturer as all-business Lisa and the tough girl Carla. And she had been watching Carla, who now sat in the spotter’s stool, tickle her foot, and she went straight for the gaps between Katie’s toes, making her beg with more desperation. “What do you want from me? Just tell me!” They were not telling her anything, of course, and expert, sadistic fingers kept her laughing and squirming, and all four women could feel what was happening as they tickled.
Carla leaned forward on the stool. “So we’re going to just make you climax when you don’t want to, right?” Katie groaned and grunted in an attempt to deny the torturer her triumph, but she knew that the moment any of them touched her in a way that invited her body over the edge, her ticklish skin would turn against her without hesitation or remorse.
And as she was thinking that, so Lisa made it happen: Katie felt a tongue between her toes, and she tried with all of her might to squeeze her abdominal muscles, to refuse the electric jolt that seized her inner legs, her hips, the parts of her that–she still tried to convince herself–just needed a man, just for a night, just for half an hour.
But no man was on the way to rescue her, and Lisa’s tongue kept pulling on that invisible rope, and Katie felt herself moaning and laughing, felt her consciousness drift out of her head and down between her hips. Behind her tight-shut eyes a light show shot across her consciousness, and she tasted the groan that escaped between her lips even before she felt the wave of sexual pleasure crash down on her, fill up the room, wash through all four of her limbs there in the repurposed obstetrician’s chair. The two hands tickling one foot disengaged, but Lisa’s mouth continued to work her skin until the Texan was sure and doubly sure that her prisoner had in fact reached orgasm.
Katie panted, tried to catch her breath, willed herself to muster defiance, a curse, anything to let these girls know that she was a grown woman, and they didn’t have control over her strong mind.
Nothing. She just panted as her nervous system hummed in the silence.
Katie saw Lisa moving towards the stool and Carla to her foot. Lisa put words into the air: “We don’t want you to talk to us too early, Katie–you might lie to us. But whatever you do when we start tickling you again, don’t think about what Elizabeth Morton told you about Andromeda.” Katie squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she could. This wasn’t just a news story this time–she knew now that Andromeda was a threat to American security, that Elizabeth Morton was the only one putting the pieces together in the federal law-enforcement world, that…
Carla’s fingers began to scratch at Katie’s sole, and she felt the secrets trying to escape from her mouth. As Hana joined in on her other foot, Katie could only shout, “Stop it!”
Nobody was stopping.
For days on end in South Carolina Katie had experienced the unstoppable force of her own ticklish nerves after a climax, but the memory had gotten faint in the ensuing weeks. This was nothing short of superhuman–Katie thought she could just treat what Andromeda was doing to her as meaningless sex, but this time the fingers were pulling laughter out through her feet, and the laughter was already building another explosion between her hips. None of that was new. This time, though, those parts of her–the parts that she could keep under such disciplined control when she was on a story–were rifling through the files she kept in her mind. Everything that Andromeda wanted to know about Elizabeth Morton was right there on the front edge of her consciousness, and Hana and Carla were shaking the shelf until it rocked back and forth, tipping forward, leaning back, about to fall…
“No! I can’t!”
From the spotter’s stool Lisa leered at the reporter who thought she would never crack under tickling again. “Don’t worry, Katie. We don’t even want you to talk right now. You could tell us every naughty secret you ever wanted to tell, and we’d keep tickling those delicious feet of yours. You have no way out!”
Katie howled in laughter, trying to imagine a billowing American flag, her deceased grandparents, anything that would keep her from betraying Elizabeth Morton. But then, she had already betrayed, hadn’t she? Morton was on her way to the midwest, and Andromeda was going to put her in a chair just like this one, and would even the mighty Elizabeth Morton be able to hold out under this kind of tickling if they really wanted something from her? Carla’s fingernails told her no over and over again: every second she seemed to find newly vulnerable skin, to scratch her in just such a way that her orgasm-energized flesh wanted to make promises, to surrender completely, just so that they would…
Would what? Hana’s fingers tickled her heel, and Katie moaned in frustration, and the sliver of her mind that wasn’t tickled into disintegration started to wonder whether she hadn’t agreed to come with the Andromeda girls not to save a college girl she had never met but because she wanted to be at their disposal again, wanted to have these cruel, expert fingers take away the facade that she had to maintain to survive in the political journalism world.
What if Katie secretly wanted to be tickled as much as Jen Chung did?
The mental sliver dissolved as Hana moved her attention from Jen’s heel to sweeping strokes from her instep up to the ball of Katie’s foot. Katie’s arms, driven only by instinct, pulled at her restraints as her head flew back against the chair’s pillow and she laughed with greater abandon. Carla’s fingernails scratched the stems of Katie’s toes, and Katie’s hips twisted this way and that in agony that was ecstasy and that drove her ever closer to another climax.
One foot stopped feeling the tickling, and Katie opened her eyes, eyesight getting blurry, to see Lisa taking her position at her foot. Hana did not move towards the stool but to a position between Katie’s knees. Katie pressed her head backwards into the pillow again and, laughing madly because Carla never stopped tickling and Lisa had started, tried to muster whatever she could muster to brace against the wave. She felt Hana’s limber fingers peel her panties to one side, felt a face between her thighs, rode a surge that made her whole abdomen shudder before she even felt that tongue sliding in.
Katie’s eyes flew wide open, staring in ecstasy at the ceiling as she shrieked in ticklish, agonized pleasure. Whatever she would have called her mind before was nowhere to be found; her very soul was an open book to these terrible women, and her arched back collapsed down onto the chair as all three women left her skin. Whatever they asked her next, the answer was already theirs. She panted, unable to remember what it would have felt like to be ashamed at betraying something so abstract as a country.
She heard Carla’s voice in the darkness behind her eyelids. “Do you think she’s ready?”
Lisa repled. “Let’s get her a change of clothes and let her rest. We don’t want any physical injuries before we take her to the big show.”
Big… show… rest…
* * * * * * *
Had it been five days? Twenty years? Katie Jones had lost all sense of time, but as she rode, blind in the silk bag that covered her eyes, she couldn’t remember the Andromeda girls’ ever asking her questions about Elizabeth Morton, even as they tickled her out of her mind over and over. She wasn’t as confident as that beautiful Black Amazon with whom she’d had lunch, whose laugh and whose legs she now fantasized about without a second thought. If the Andromeda girls had asked Katie Jones for anything, she would have given it to them.
Katie knew that this time it was a van–when she had boarded, she heard a sliding door open, and now that the van had once again stopped, the same large metal door moved on tracks to expose Katie to cool night air.
The Andromeda girls led Katie, in a fresh nightgown and once again in flip-flops, across what felt like a paved parking lot and to a ground-level door. Immediately she could tell that something was different: usually the torture-houses were precisely that: houses. And most houses had some kind of step-up to get inside.
Once they were through the door, the sound was different too: the ambient sounds that Katie could pick up weren’t coming from house-sized spaces; she was in a much bigger sort of building. The fall of her captors’ boots echoed, and Katie could feel her flip-flops making their way over a hard floor, perhaps concrete or tile rather than carpet. A warehouse? Maybe. A gymnasium? Possibly. Every step she took, or that her captors took, echoed in the cavernous quiet.
Katie acquiesced as Lisa and Carla sat her down in a chair, and she felt all-too-familiar padded stocks close over her ankles. Her flip-flops pulled away from her feet, and she could feel the air on her soles. But then nobody secured her hands. Self-consciously Katie rubbed her wrists, wondering why she could still move them. Then the bag came off of her head.
Katie looked around, her eyes starving to put some context to what her ears had discerned. Katie sat on a padded bench, her ankles stocked and her feet bare. That much she already knew. But then she saw an empty bench to her right, just like hers, with no restraints for hands. And behind her, elevated so that whoever sat on it would be well above her, a recliner was on a platform, so that the footrest, when extended, would come to rest precisely between the two benches. All three seats occupied an island of bright light in a sea of darkness–Katie could make out almost nothing outside the circle that a trio of spotlights carved out of the grand space. She looked down at her ankles, thinking that she might open the stocks and escape, since her hands were free, but a heavy padlock kept her ankles in place.
“Who’s there?”
Her voice echoed.
“What do you want from me? You know I don’t have anything you need!”
Katie heard boot heels click on hard wood. Hana, dressed all in black leather and fishnet hose, stepped into the light. She looked like a biker-girl Halloween costume, and Katie was already thinking about what fun it would be to tickle her until she begged. “There you go again, assuming you know what we need! But it’s not your turn yet, Katie.” Hana’s fingers tapped the tops of Katie’s toes with each of the following words: “Wait… your… turn!”
Katie lunged forward and grabbed the padlock, but to no avail: it was fastened and not inclined to go anywhere. She sat backwards in frustration and glared at Hana, but in a moment another sight seized her attention: another spotlight, and another circle. In the circle Katie saw a woman’s figure lying supine, her legs pointing in an acute angle towards the unseen ceiling.
Someone was in the Flying V.
Katie heard more boots, and when she turned to where Hana had been, she discovered she was alone again in her spotlight. But three figures emerged into the other, all three in the same leather gear. This time Carla spoke, but not to Katie. She seemed to address another presence in the darkness. “For our first act, we present to you none other than Traci Carter, all the way from Topeka. Sit back and relax, and save your energy…” Katie could feel Carla’s eyes turn towards her. “The main event is yet to come!”
Katie leaned forward again, trying to lift the top of the stocks. Nothing. She looked across the gymnasium’s floor–she could see the hardwood of a basketball court around Traci’s body–and saw Lisa take a seat on a spotter’s stool as the other two sat on shorter stools, each at one of Carter’s bare feet. Those legs were not those of a supermodel–they said ballet mom more than magazine cover–but Katie could not keep her eyes averted as Carla and Hana’s hands grew nearer to them.
Traci’s laughter was desperate in a way that Katie had not anticipated–she squealed at first, and she bounced into a cackle as the two Andromeda agents began to work on her, but Katie heard something familiar, something that she had never had the chance to examine because, before, the tickling itself always commanded too much of her attention. But as they tickled her soles, and as Traci writhed on the mattress they had placed her on, Katie knew that she was listening to a version of her own torture. Traci was hating every moment of their fingers and the sensations and the futile dignity of a woman trying not to laugh when her body will do nothing else, but that wasn’t all Katie was hearing. As Hana and Carla tickled Traci Carter’s toes and scratched fingernails across her heels, Katie started to hear an undercurrent in the laughter, a subtext in the squeals and moans.
Traci Carter wanted this.
Katie tried to shut her eyes, but her eyes would not shut: she watched as the working mother who had started this whole investigation writhed and squealed and laughed into the vast, open, echoing air. If this was torture, she wanted more of the torment than she wanted anything, and if Katie Jones and Traci Carter had saved young Maddie from anything, it was the sight that Katie now beheld across an abandoned basketball gym, a woman laughing from touches that she could not control and a woman who starved until the next touch scratched her heel, rubbed the base of her toes, swept across her sole and drew more torment, more giggles, another moan.
As they tickled Traci Carter, Carla looked up from her designated foot and locked eyes with Katie. Katie looked directly back at her: if they wanted her to want this, they had accomplished it. But Katie also knew that she was just on the edge of bringing it all down; she just had to escape after this, and she could put together the pieces that would bring Andromeda down. She just had to last through the tickling that these girls were going to give her in front of the shadowy audience.
Traci Carter was a pretty woman, no doubt someone who did not have trouble getting boyfriends in high school, but Katie didn’t think that the middle-aged woman in the flying V would attract any kind of attention like the young, athletic women tickling her would have. Yet in that gymnasium, Katie could not take her eyes off of those hips, those legs, those feet. She felt herself flexing her own fingers, imagining having a turn on those soles. Traci’s hips bucked, then shuddered, and Katie knew that Traci had gotten what she came here for. But the Andromeda girls didn’t stick around to give her the post-climax tickles that only Traci Carter and Katie Jones and a handful of other women in the world knew about: they were making their way back to Katie’s side of the gym. Katie swallowed and tried to steel herself mentally for what was coming next.
But even a veteran journalist sometimes gets surprised. Hana and Carla and Lisa stopped halfway across the floor, and another spotlight illuminated the far side of the gym. Three more Andromeda girls–Katie knew their look–led a tall Black woman across the floor towards Katie.
Katie’s jaw dropped. She knew that her phone call had brought Elizabeth Morton to Kansas, but as a Chinese Andromeda girl and her Black counterpart crossed the floor, a white Andromeda girl with bright pink dyed hair in tow, Katie could not help herself–the surprise and the guilt overtook her. Blindfolded, clad in a pink silk nightgown not unlike Katie’s green silk, Morton was a sight to see as they brought her close. Katie looked again at the bench next to her, and a thrill shot up her spine: they were going to tickle Elizabeth Morton. Katie was going to see with her own eyes what she had only fantasized about in the Caribbean.
Morton still could not see Katie–her head was in the same kind of silk bag that had kept Katie from seeing her surroundings–and when they secured Elizabeth’s ankles in a matching set of stocks, her long ebony legs perpendicular to Katie’s, they removed the bag. Morton looked around, saw Katie, and narrowed her eyes. “They already had you when you called.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be, Katie. They’ve gone too far this time. They’ll have their fun tonight, but DHS is going to track down every one of them and–”
Lisa shouted Elizabeth down. “Your federal agents are out of their league dealing with us, Morton, and so are you!”
“Go ahead and get off on tickling our feet, kid. When they throw you in the federal pen, I’m going to personally make sure everyone you ever terrorized knows exactly what prison you’re in so that they can send all kinds of revenge down on your head!”
Carla stepped forward. “Sounds like somebody wants a world-class tickling tonight! I’m going to have you begging again in no time, you delicious chocolate amazon!” Lisa and Hana laughed as Morton glared.
Lisa turned again to the unseen audience. “And now what you’ve come to Kansas to see! Which of these women, at the tops of their worlds, do we get to reduce to a giggling, begging little girl tonight? Will it be the journalist or the special agent?”
Katie heard a chuckle from the darkness. Somewhere out in that space a man was watching.
Lisa continued. “Either way, we’re not starting with either one but with some feet that you’ve only ever seen on video before. Andromeda is proud to present…” She paused for effect, looking at Mortona and Jones. “Live from Boston, Council Woman Jennifer Chung!”
Now it was Katie’s turn to be shocked. From the same door whence Elizabeth Morton had emerged, out stepped Jen Chung. She wore neither a politician’s suit nor a lover’s lingerie but a model’s bikini. A study in red, white, and blue covered only a minimum, and Katie once again found herself staring, feeling her fingers bend and simulate tickling strokes as she looked at the politician’s legs and feet. She strode like a queen across the hardwood floor, high heels clicking on the basketball court as she walked behind the two imprisoned women until she reached the base of the platform behind them. There she took the shoes off and climbed a set of stairs up to the platform and sat in the recliner. She extended the footrest, and each of her slender feet came to rest within arm’s length of each of the captive women.
Now Jen spoke up. “The game is simple, ladies. Each of you is going to tickle one of my feet until I’m satisfied. Then the one who tickles best gets to keep at it, and the one who doesn’t gets tickled by an Andromeda team!”
Now Katie knew why her arms were free, why she could reach the elevated recliner’s foot rest. Jen Chung’s feet bobbed playfully in the air. Katie looked into the darkness, trying to see the mysterious person Lisa had been addressing. Then she turned her eyes towards Elizabeth Morton, and once again she started imagining what it would look like for that warrior of a woman to be reduced to giggling and moaning. Katie’s hand reached up to grasp Jen Chung’s ankle. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth.”
Katie’s fingernails went wild on the politician’s heel, and the reward was instantaneous: Chung, who had no interest in pretending to resist the touches, squealed in tickled delight and let her bouncing giggles fly out into the air. Katie kept her fingers moving as she locked eyes with Elizabeth Morton’s unbelieving stare. Katie stayed on the heel as Morton, her face still a mask of disgust with Katie Jones, grabbed the other ankle and started tickling Jen Chung’s toes. Chung’s head rocked back as her laughter echoed through the mostly-empty space. The two Andromeda teams started to take their places at the feet of the two benches, the squad that had tickled Katie assuming positions at Elizabeth Morton’s feet and the new ones at Katie’s.
Katie shifted her target, sweeping fingertips across Jen’s soles and extracting a moan for her troubles. Somehow Katie knew that her own fingers, not Morton’s, were sending Jen Chung through the roof and towards the tickled climax that Andromeda always seemed to be chasing. (The jolt be damned.) Morton’s face started to look desperate, and her own hands kept tickling the Council Woman’s foot as quickly as she could. Jen Chung rubbed herself through the bikini bottom as the two women tickled her feet, and her laughter shot into the air through gasps of erotic pleasure. Katie did not dare stop tickling: if she could get out of this exhibition without getting her feet tickled, she could escape and file the story and bring this whole thing down. But she had to make sure that Andromeda couldn’t invade her mind tonight, that Elizabeth Morton and not Katie Joes received the wrath of Andromeda.
As Jen Chung shrieked her ticklish orgasm, Katie almost had herself convinced that the mission was the real reason she kept tickling as she did.
Lisa’s voice boomed again. “Alright, ladies, stop tickling!” Both Jones and Morton followed the command instantly. They released Jen Chung’s ankles, and Chung leaned back in her chair, stretching her legs in glorious sexual ecstasy. Katie could just imagine what the laughing man in the darkness was doing with his own hands as he watched this spectacle.
The silent minutes between Chung’s orgasm and what came next were agonizing: Katie Jones could feel her own desires pulsing with every beat of her heart, and she knew that if these new Andromeda girls were anything like their counterparts in the other two squads (and why wouldn’t they be?), she would be clay in their hands. Lisa once again spoke up. “You can only choose one of them, Secretary Chung. Who’s going to tickle your feet now?”
Secretary Chung? Secretary Chung? Katie’s eyes flew open. Who is Secretary Chung?
“I want Katie to tickle me some more.”
Katie’s head was reeling. What had just happened? To her right the laugh that Katie had been dreaming of suddenly split the air. Lisa and Hana began to tickle Morton’s creamy, light-colored soles, and Morton shrieked as her already-stimulated skin betrayed her instantly. Katie heard a voice from beyond her own feet. “You’d better start tickling, Jones, or we have the green light to make you regret that you haven’t!” She looked to see that the Black and the Chinese Andromeda girls had taken their places, leaving the white one with her dyed hair in the spotter’s position. Katie’s hands flew to their work: she grasped an ankle again and began to scratch at the stems of Jen Chung’s toes. Chung screamed in pleasure, and Katie recognized instantly the sound of a post-climax ticklish woman. The difference was that this time, the tickled woman was free to leave at any moment, and the tickler was prisoner, threatened with her own dismantling at the hands of professional-grade tickle tortures. Katie tickled because she wanted to tickle, because she feared being tickled, because she knew that parts of her that wanted an Andromeda tickling more than anything else would trade anything–even the story–to fall under those cruel, expert, tickling fingers.
Elizabeth Morton moaned as Carla reached one hand up and began scratching at her inner thigh, and Katie saw Hana tag in Lisa, spotting a jolt and no doubt wanting to exploit the federal agent’s emerging ticklish spot. Katie wondered what it would be like to chase a jolt, but she had no such luxury: the Andromeda girls who at this point had never put hands on her leered at her bare feet, and Katie tickled the bucking Massachussetts politician with abandon. She heard Chung start to moan again, and Katie marveled at the difference between the two women so close by. One battled against the sensuous and the sexual touches that were breaking down her well-practiced defiance. The other had abandoned herself to the tickling and never doubted that the only thing she wanted was more.
And the third, as Katie reflected on her own plight, was getting more and more randy tickling a woman she had learned to despise as a traitor and a pervert, even as she learned to desire those ticklish feet in ways she had never desired her husband back when she had a husband. Katie’s fingers flew, learning a precision and a ravenous appetite for ticklish skin that she never would have imagined when first she started investigating the case of Traci Carter.
Katie felt Jen Chung shudder again, and she knew that she had done to the politician what Gina and Zoe and Casi had done to her so many times in South Carolina, and she paused her tickling as those Andromeda girls–she still needed to discover whether they really had gone rogue–had taught her to pause. Turning towards Elizabeth, Katie saw the sight that she wouldn’t let herself fantasize about before, the athletic torso heaving into a climax as Carla’s fingers reached between her legs and Lisa’s lips wrapped around her toes. Nobody had touched Katie Jones’s feet yet, and she knew that the instant somebody did, something was going to break. Whatever name she gave to it, that energy in Katie Jones, reporter from Interest magazine, wanted for someone to tickle her toes, to ignite the electrical sizzle in her soles, to drive her where before she feared someone might drive her.
And that night, in that gymnasium, nobody touched her feet. She tickled Jen Chung to a third orgasm, watched Morton suffer two more, and wondered again and again about the mysterious man in the darkness, but when they put the silk bag over her head again to lead her out of the gymnasium, her feet walked, clad in flip-flops, untickled. And despite going through the whole ordeal without anyone’s forcing her to laugh even once, Katie’s body was excited and exhausted and exhilarated all at once as she wondered where they would take her next.
* * * * * * *
Two of the Andromeda girls pushed Katie forward through a hallway until they reached a reinforced door. A third used a magnetic key card to gain access, and a pneumatic release allowed the door to swing open. They led Katie in through another short hall and to a transparent divider.
Exhausted, Katie still found the scene fascinating: On her side of the glass (she assumed it must be unbreakable–that was the Andromeda way) they were in an antiseptic hallway, amost like a hospital’s. On the other side, a windowless but luxurious hotel room stretched out before her eyes. She could see a private bathroom and a large television, a chair and a table and a small kitchen and a large bed.
And that’s where Katie’s eyes fixed: on the bed, raising herself up on one elbow in exhaustion, was Elizabeth Morton. The Andromeda girls pushed Katie through the plexiglass wall’s sliding door, let it shut behind them, and walked back through the metal door, leaving the two exhibitions alone in the room together.
“I’m so sorry, Elizabeth–if I hadn’t brought you here, they would have kidnapped–”
“Don’t, Katie. That’s how Andromeda is trying to get inside your head. I let you win that tickle contest so they would tickle me instead of you.”
“What? Why would you–”
“You called me three days ago. I assumed that they had you in tickle chairs and the flying V and everywhere else, getting inside your mind. I didn’t want you to break in front of that pig Auerbach.”
Katie’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” Auerbach? Katie made a mental note.
Morton turned towards the blank wall. “Don’t be sorry. We’re not done here. By the time Andromeda decides we’re done, there’s no telling what they’re going to have either of us doing.”
Katie’s chest heaved. She remembered times when dying in this place would have been her greatest fear, but right now all she could muster was terror when she imagined what the sadists from Andromeda’s Gamma Squad had in store for her. Her eyes rested on Morton, also in a nightgown, her long dark legs and the cream-colored soles of her feet bringing to Katie’s mind a question that the reporter who flew to Kansas never would have asked.
“Elizabeth?”
“Yeah, Katie.”
“I don’t know when they’re coming through that door again.”
“Me neither.”
“Can you hold me until they do?”
Morton turned her head and looked at Katie with sympathetic eyes. “Yeah, Katie. Come here.”
Katie joined the DHS director in the bed, silk nightgown brushing against silk nightgown, and Katie felt strong arms wrap around her. Morton whispered in her ear. “No matter what happens, no matter what they make you do, you’re going to be alright.”
Katie nodded and shut her eyes, feeling the warmth of a body that wasn’t tormenting her. Then she planted a hand on the mattress turned her body to face Morton, and found her lips with her own. Their embrace lingered, their kisses continued, and Katie let sleep take her in the arms of Elizabeth Morton.
I'm having more fun with this commission than I ever thought I would, and there's no signs that the Andromeda story-world is ending any time soon.
Once again I strongly recommend that you read earlier episodes so you can get an idea of the big picture, and you can do so here:
Andromeda 1: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showt...-part-1-(fff-f-non-con)&p=4785111#post4785111
Andromeda 2: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showt...-part-2-(fff-f-non-con)&p=4697967#post4697967
Andromeda 3: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showt...omeda-part-3-(f-f-ff-f)&p=4713292#post4713292
Andromeda 4: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?341137-Andromeda-part-4-(fff-f)&p=4741088#post4741088
Andromeda 5: https://www.ticklingforum.com/showthread.php?346842-Andromeda-part-5-(fff-f)
Then again, you might just want to take this one on and then read the others as prequels--who knows?
Either way, leave a comment when you've read, and then read someone else's story and leave a comment!
KI
Andromeda part 6 (f/f, fff/f, ff/f)
by
Kid Indy
Well-worn wheels made their way through the produce section at Dillon’s. A stop at the apples and oranges stand, a pause to pick out strawberries, and dutiful acquisition of vegetables went as routinely as they ever did.
A new pair of eyes watched and followed.
Up and down the aisles the cart went, timely as one could hope. The shopper nodded politely at familiar faces at the suburban Topeka grocery store, and the cart almost seemed to drive itself to the check-out line.
The watcher moved through motorized doors and out into the parking lot and the spring air.
The shopper pushed her newly-purchased groceries across the parking lot, her mind already on the phone calls to pollsters that she would have to place when she got back to her house, her family, her work. She lifted the groceries out in the order she always did: liquids first so they wouldn’t crush the other groceries, then canned and boxed goods, and produce last. As her hand lighted on a bag of vegetables, she heard an unfamiliar woman’s voice behind her.
“Photos from the Washington days really don’t do you justice. You’re really pretty.” A hand instinctively went to a purse and fumbled to open a zipper and go for a phone. “No need for that, Traci.”
The shopper looked at the other woman’s sunglasses and tried to slow her breathing. “Who are you?”
“I’ve left you voicemails several times, but you’ve never returned my calls. But now I really need to talk to you.” The woman extended a business card, and Traci Carter took it. “Go home and put away your groceries now, but don’t keep me waiting.” With that the woman turned on her heel and started across the parking lot, where Traci Carter saw her get into a gray sedan.
She looked down at the business card in her hand. “Katie Jones, Interest Politics Journal, Senior Reporter.” On the back, in blue pen, it read, “Heartland Motorsports Park. Parking Lot. Tuesday. 11:15 AM. Urgent.”
* * * * * * *
The mobile phone rang twice before anyone picked it up. “Hello?”
“Is this Katie Jones?”
“Yes, Katie Jones. Who is this?”
“Oh thank God! I need to talk to you so badly!”
“Slow down. Who is this?”
“My name is Jennifer Chung. I was running for U.S. Senate from Massachussetts.”
“Yes, I know who you are. What’s going on?”
“The Andromeda squad that abducted you–I have information on them! Andromeda abducted me, but a different squad than the one that got to you in South Carolina. When they were torturing me, I found out something really important about your Andromeda squad.”
Katie reached for her notebook. “Location? Next target?”
“I don’t want to say over the phone–they might be following me. Where can I meet you?”
“I’m on assignment right now. I won’t be back until next Monday.”
“I don’t know if I have that long. I can come to you. Where are you?”
Katie looked at the calendar on her phone. “How fast can you get to Topeka?”
* * * * * * *
On a race weekend, hundreds of pickup trucks and SUVs and cars crowded the speedway’s gravel lot. On weekdays, the Heartland’s parking lot was a sea of forlorn gravel and heroic, unstoppable weeds. Traci Carter’s minivan wheels bumped through the ruts as she made her way to a shaded part of the lot where she spotted the rented Toyota that Traci Carter was driving. She pulled in next to her and stepped out of her minivan. Katie Jones stepped out of her rental.
“I don’t have long–I told the office I was running a couple errands before lunch, but they’re watching me.”
“Your bank?”
“Andromeda.”
“Then we’ll get right to it. What did you give them before they sent you out here?”
“What do you mean?”
“They had some kind of leverage on you. What did you give them on the health care bill negotiations?”
Traci Carter’s face was turning bright red. “I came out here because they said they’d abduct me and torture me again. And now you’re digging into things that are going to bring them back!”
Katie took a step closer. “What information did you give them when they tortured you?”
Carter looked away from the reporter. “You have no idea…”
Katie reached out a hand and put it on Traci Carter’s shoulder. “No, Traci. I do. You might not have read my stories, but they abducted me too.”
Carter’s eyes suddenly locked onto Katie’s. “You’re just one woman, Jones. Andromeda–”
Traci Carter’s sentence trailed off as the air filled with the sounds of loud gasoline motors. Three motorcycles–one from the highway and two out of the woods–tore through the gravel parking lot and circled the two women’s vehicles. The journalist and the banker froze as their circle tightened, and within seconds they were close enough that Katie Jones could see that their riders were women, probably young, definitely athletic.
The bikes came to a stop in front of the two women, and as the one in the middle reached for her helmet, Katie prepared herself to look once more into the eyes of Zoe or Gina. Instead the helmet unveiled a new face, pretty and young like her torturers but blonde, and when the other two removed their helmets Katie recognized none of them.
The blond spoke with a southern accent. “Traci Carter, what are you doing talking to a reporter?”
Traci’s hands went into frantic gestures. “She ambushed me in town. I thought she was going to expose me!”
Another of the bikers spoke up, and Katie guessed that she was from Guatemala or Honduras. “You know what happens if you talk to reporters, Traci. We know where to find Maddie.”
Katie turned to Carter. “Maddie?”
“Please, leave her alone! Take me! She doesn’t have anything to do with this!”
The third was talking now. Traci guessed Korean-American. “I think she’d make a great Andromeda agent, Traci. So pretty. So smart. I think her future is bright!”
The southern blonde jumped in again. “I’ll bet she’s just as ticklish as Mom too!” The three laughed.
“No! Please! I’ll do anything! Just leave her alone!”
Katie had figured out enough. “Wait. If you’re Andromeda, you know who I am. I tracked down Traci and told her to meet me here. She isn’t responsible for this.”
The central-American Andromeda stepped forward. “She has a ticklish recruit that we’re looking at. What do you have?”
Katie’s mind raced. “I’ll turn myself over to you. Give me two days to let Interest know I’m going deep-cover, and I’ll meet you wherever you tell me to and turn myself over.”
Now the Korean: “Katie, you don’t have any secrets that we need! You’re a journalist–you write down everything for anyone to read! I want the ticklish college girl!”
Katie gritted her teeth. “I know about Andromeda’s plans. Your national plans. Let Carter go, and in two days I’ll meet with you and let you know what I have.”
The blond signaled for the other two to step back, and they did. “Two days, huh? You think you’ll be able to set a trap for us in two days?”
“No traps. Just leave Carter alone.”
“I think we can cut that deal. So here’s what’s going to happen now. You get in your car, and we’re going to follow you back to where you’re staying. If you try to contact Carter again, then young Maddie is going away, and not to Saint Louis University. We’re going to tickle her until she’s one of us, and then Mommy Dearest is going in for another tickling that she’s never going to forget while Maddie watches.” Traci Carter shuddered in panic. “If you try to set a trap for us, Maddie is ours. If you try to run, Maddie is ours. Are you understanding me, Jones?”
Katie nodded.
“Two days from now, at 10:30 PM, you’re going to get an address texted to you. When you get there, you’ll get further instructions. Try to get away, and Maddie is ours. Try to have us followed–”
“And Maddie is yours. I get it.”
“And hold out on the information you’ve got–”
“Yes, I get it–if I try anything, you take Traci’s daughter.”
“No, if you hold out on us, I’m not even going to worry about Maddie. I’ve read your stories. I want to get that information myself, our way. We’re going to have those feet of yours, Katie, and you’re going to tell us everything. You’re going to beg to tell us more. And when you have no more secrets left, that’s when I’m really going to enjoy tickling you.” Katie glared in defiance. “Now get in that car, and drive directly to where you’re staying.”
Katie turned and started towards her car. The Andromeda biker turned towards Traci Carter. “You know what’s on the line, Carter. You know that if we get ahold of Madison, she’s ours for life. Now go back to your bank, and if anyone ever asks you about us again, you don’t meet up in an abandoned parking lot. You contact us. We might just see you for a late-night session just to remind you–be sure to answer our calls!”
The three girls laughed together. Katie Jones shifted her rented car into reverse. Tomorrow’s meeting with Jen Chung might be her only ace now.
* * * * * * *
As the sun set, Katie drove an erratic, looping route, almost fifty miles of back roads and doubling her tracks and detours through small towns before she arrived at the farmhouse fifteen miles outside of Topeka. Jen Chung had assured her that she had paid indirectly with crypto under a false name, and Katie saw only one mid-sized sedan–almost certainly a rental–in the driveway.
Tomorrow night Katie would surrender herself to three Andromeda girls she had never met, and this was going to be her shot to get word back to Washington about what was really happening. Looking this way and that in the descending darkness, she approached the AirBnB’s front door.
She knocked.
Footsteps approached the door inside.
The door opened, and Katie recognized Jen Chung’s face from the news stories. “Miss Jones! I’m so glad to see you!”
“You can call me Katie. Let’s get inside.”
Jen Chung nodded and let her in. “You’re the first person I’ve told about this, but you know more about Andromeda than anyone, so I wanted to talk to you.”
“What did you tell your campaign?”
“There is no more campaign. When they grabbed me, I had just come from sending everyone home for the last time. As far as anyone knows, I just took the weekend away. You’re the only one who knows.”
“Who were the girls?”
“Lisa, Carla, and Hana.”
Katie raised an eyebrow. “One Latina and one Korean?”
“And one blond Texan. Did you describe them wrong in your news stories so they wouldn’t grab you again?”
“No, but I think that the three who grabbed you are here in Kansas.”
“What? Oh my God! Let me sit down.” Katie followed her into the small house’s bedroom, where Jen sat on the side of the bed and took off her shoes.
Katie found herself staring but shook it off. “I tried to meet with Traci Carter to follow up on some information that I got, and they knew where to find us meeting. So they must be working with Gina’s squad on something.”
Jen pulled her feet up onto the bed, crossed her legs, and gestured for Katie to stop. “No, that’s not it! Those three told me that the squad who picked you up was a breakaway group, a splinter cell from Andromeda!”
Katie’s head spun at the implications. “Okay, I didn’t see that one coming. So that means…”
“They might be in Kansas looking for leads on the rogue Andromeda girls?”
“Maybe.” Her purpose suddenly returned to her. “Jen, I need your help.”
“Katie, I’m scared. What if helping you means they find me again?”
“Jen, when they caught Carter and me, they made me promise to turn myself over to them tomorrow. You’re my only chance at getting word to Washington before they make me tell them everything I know about their larger plans.”
“Larger plans?”
“They’ve been operating in the shadows for years, but starting with Carter–or maybe with Angie Hamilton–they started making bigger moves. I’m starting to put that picture together, but if they know what I know, they’ll just change things up, and all of my work will be for nothing. You need to get word to Interest and to Elizabeth Morton early tomorrow so that they can–”
“Elizabeth who?”
“Morton. Elizabeth Morton. Department of Homeland Security. She’ll know what to do.”
“Katie, I don’t know…”
“Jen, whatever they have planned, it’s big. It could put the whole country in danger.”
“Then why are you turning yourself over to them?”
Katie paused a moment. Why was she doing that? “Because I can’t stand the thought of Madison Carter becoming one of them.”
“Who’s that?”
“Traci Carter’s daughter. 19. If I don’t play ball with your Andromeda squad, they’re going to grab her and torture her until she’s one of them.”
“This is tickling, Katie, not werewolves. They can’t just turn her into one of them!”
Katie paused again, then looked again at Jen’s bare feet. “I’m not so sure of that.”
“Sit down with me, Katie.” Katie sat. “I know why you’re afraid of them. You didn’t write about it in your stories, but I know what they can do to a woman’s body.” Katie stared into her eyes now. “Sexually.” Katie’s mouth opened slightly, and she looked back to Jen’s feet. “They did it to me too.” She put a hand on Katie’s, and once again their eyes locked.
“Then you understand why I can’t…”
“Yes, I know. Katie, I’ll get word back to Washington for you. But tonight I need something else from you.”
“What?”
“I need to remember what it feels like to have someone touch me without wanting to control my mind.”
Katie pulled her hand back. “What are you saying?”
“Tickle my feet, Katie.” Katie’s pulse raced. She tried to pull her eyes away from Jen’s feet, but she could feel her eyes wanting to return. “I brought extra nightgowns with me, and you’re not much bigger than I am. Stay here with me tonight, and let me feel like a woman again, and tomorrow I’ll make sure your editors and DHS know exactly where you are.”
Katie’s mind drowned in a sea of hormones. Whatever Zoe and Gina and Casi had done to her, the idea of tickling the council woman's feet didn’t repulse her; to the contrary, only the part of her mind focused on the journalistic mission had any objection at all. That part of her mind spoke up. “I’m being watched, Jen. If I stay here too long, they could find us here, and then you’d be in danger again.”
“We’re not anywhere they’d look, Katie. Just one night, and you can go back into town in a few hours.”
Katie could not believe herself, but in moments that seemed more dream than reality, she let Jen lead her to the council woman’s luggage, where she handed Katie a red silk nightgown. In the house’s second bedroom Katie took off her clothes and slid the silk over her skin. No doubt the councilwoman would have worn it loose, but it hugged Katie’s body, and it only covered her bottom when she stood straight–when Katie bent at all, the bottom of her bottom became visible. She went back to the main bedroom, where Jen had changed into a royal blue silk negligee, and the councilwoman gestured for the reporter to join her on the bed. Katie lowered herself onto the mattress, feeling the cool air on her bottom as she did.
“Tickle my feet, Katie.”
The councilwoman extended a leg to Katie, and she received her foot in a gentle grasp. Katie’s fingers began slowly to stroke the politician’s sole, and the giggle that bounced through the air was nothing short of electricity in Katie’s ears. All she wanted was more, and Katie’s fingers sped up, pinching at Jen’s instep. Jen’s hands came up to cover her mouth in a bashful play, and Katie’s hands moved as fast as they could, her body wanting nothing more than to make this beautiful Korean-American woman laugh. Jen squealed when Katie’s fingers found their way between her toes, and Katie began to laugh with abandon to match Jen’s girlish giggling.
Soon Jen Chung’s hands drifted downward from her mouth to grasp her own torso in a kind of ecstatic embrace, and as Katie kept tickling, she could hear the council woman start to moan in between her giggles. Whatever chance Katie had of observing the scene objectively was gone; she could feel her own abdomen start to tighten, her own lips starting to part in a moan. As she tickled the foot in her grasp, her eyes closed, and the movement of the mattress underneath and the intoxicating laughter in the air washed over her.
Then her world exploded into electric sensation: fingertips, short nails, had pinched the silk against her hip. Katie shrieked at the sudden sensation, her eyes flying open. Jen Chung’s eyes twinkled with playful delight. “Oh, Katie, where did you go? You didn’t even see that coming, did you?”
“Don’t touch me–I don’t like that!”
Jen Chung had pulled her legs underneath herself and crawled towards Katie on the bed. “Come on, Katie. There’s nobody to impress here. You and I were both their prisoners. We know what they can do to our bodies… and our passions.”
Katie gulped but did not move away as Jen moved in close. “No… I didn’t want…”
“Not at first you didn’t, but you don’t have to lie to me, Katie. Give me your foot.”
“No…”
“Come on, Katie. Let’s enjoy the chance we have here!” And with that, Jen Chung leaned in and kissed Katie Jones, their lips immediately finding each other and both mouths seeking companions in the dark night. Katie would not have believed herself capable of this desire, even inclined to imagine it, but Jen Chung’s mouth simply drew her in. They embraced for a moment, and then Jen started pinching at Katie’s ribs. Katie melted under the touches and sat back on the bed. “Give me that foot, Katie. You know what you want. You give me a foot, and I’ll give you a foot, and let’s see who’s more ticklish!”
The word send a pulse of desire through Katie’s body, from her ears down to her soles, and she did not so much extend her leg as watch her leg extend itself so that her heel rested on Jen’s thigh. “Please be gentle.”
Jen wrapped slender fingers around Katie’s ankle. “You know that’ll be even more torture, right?”
Katie nodded her head and closed her eyes as she felt Jen’s calf extend across her thigh. “Alright. Let’s do this!” Katie felt a smile spread across her face, and she started to tickle Jen’s toes. The councilwoman didn’t release her grip on Katie’s leg, but she didn’t tickle Katie either. Instead Katie could feel Jen’s body responding to her touch as her giggling shook her body. Katie began to giggle herself, feeling the councilwoman’s responses and enjoying the sensation of the woman’s pleasure. Without thinking about it Katie closed her eyes, letting her ears and her hands take in the moment.
Then Katie’s own foot joined the show. Jen Chung started to scratch at Katie’s sole, and the reporter squealed at the sensation. This wasn’t like what she had suffered at the hands of Zoe and Casi and Gina–no part of her, body or mind, wanted the councilwoman to stop, even though she kept some sense that a version of her in the distant past might have been horrified.
The distant past–before South Carolina? No matter. Katie’s hand greedily pinched and scratched at Jen Chung’s foot even as the councilwoman’s hand drove Katie into fits of giggling as they kneaded at her ticklish skin. Before long both women were moaning, their ticklish skin turning the very air into pleasure that they could breathe in and breathe out, where Katie could taste the laughter of the woman she had just met. Katie felt familiar surges pulse through her thighs, between her hips, and her laughter welled up between gasps and moans.
She felt Jen’s hips moving on the bed, and she matched the councilwoman’s movements, each grasping the other’s thigh under an arm as their legs spread. Each reached an eager hand across the collapsing space between them, and Katie began to rub Jen Chung, making her gasps deeper and her moans louder. Jen pinched Katie’s inner thigh, making her shriek and squirm, but then matched Katie’s motions, and the women’s bodies twisted together, writhed in glorious ecstasy, fell together back to the mattress, then to a place, face to face, where they could lock lips while each of them caressed the other into release.
Katie’s eyes finally opened, and her eyes rolled back into her head as she bathed in the sensations. Jen smiled at her, watching the journalist’s pleasure.
The two lay together for a time that Katie could not count. Some part of her knew what had just happened, but she wouldn’t let her mind even name it, much less her mouth speak it.
Then in the darkness Katie heard a pair of hands clapping.
Katie sat up, panicked, and reached desperately for a lamp. Before she could find it, the overhead light in the room turned on, and Katie’s dark-addled eyes looked up to see the tall blonde from the parking lot. Her Texas accent was unmistakable.
“That might have been the hottest thing I’ve seen in a long time!”
Katie looked around frantically. The agents were fanning out so that one of them was between the women and any window or door. Then Katie’s eyes turned to face Jen Chung, and Katie’s horror overcame her: the Boston City Councilwoman still lay on the mattress, an orgasmic grin still on her face, leering at Katie.
“You brought them here!”
“They told me about your deal, Katie! And now poor young Maddie Carter is going for a long vacation from college, and they’re going to let her know it’s your fault!”
“I can’t believe…”
“What, that the politician who lost her career because she loved being tickled so much would be working with covert operatives who tickle women? You’re usually such a good reporter, Katie!” The three Andromeda girls laughed at Katie’s agony.
“Please! You can’t do this to Traci Carter’s daughter! Traci didn’t know I was going to do this!”
The young Korean giggled at her. “Don’t worry–we’ll let her know you handed her over just before we let her practice on your feet. We’re going to need some test subjects to get her professional-level!”
“What do you want from me? Just stay away from Maddie!”
The blond Texan spoke again. “So you’re on a first-name basis with her now, are you?” Her eyes locked Katie’s.
“What do you want from me? This can’t be about a college kid in Missouri.”
“You’re going to come with us, and you’re going to do everything we say. You’re going to contact Washington and tell them exactly what we say, and then you’re going to surrender your phone.”
Katie, in her borrowed intimate wear, knew that she had no choice. She was not going to escape; the best she could hope for was to keep an innocent out of the line of fire. She glared at Jen Chung, who was enjoying the show. “Can I go back to my hotel and get some clothes?”
Now the Honduran spoke up. “You paid for the hotel room with cash, and you used a false name. Give us the key, and we’ll pick up your things.”
Katie’s eyes narrowed. She looked at the Texan again and nodded.
* * * * * * *
“Morton here.”
“Wait. Where are you?”
“Okay. And you’re sure it’s Andromeda?”
“Katie, you shouldn’t have brought Traci Carter back into this. I’m on my way out there. Be careful.”
* * * * * * *
The SUV never made any sudden stops, never accelerated with anything but deliberate patience, never took a hard corner. For a span that Katie could not track with only the memory of the van’s momentum, the ride was smooth, and Katie could only see the inside of the silk bag over her head. She knew that Jen Chung and one of the Andromeda girls were up front, and the other two flanked her on the van’s middle seat. But that was all her senses would give her.
* * * * * * *
“Hey, Glen, this is Katie. I’m starting to uncover some good material, so I’m going to go dark for a few days. I’ll call back when I can start filing stories.”
“Yes, Glen, I’ll be careful. I’ll call as soon as I can. Don’t contact me–I need the cover right now.”
* * * * * * *
When the SUV stopped, Katie was certain that they had come off of paved roads and out onto gravel. Nothing new there: Andromeda torture houses tended to be out of the way. Unlike South Carolina, here in Kansas Katie marched along with the Andromeda girls, faces she had met and who, if Chung were telling the truth, were “official” Andromeda to the “rogue” Andromeda she met before.
She intended to get to the bottom of that too.
But for now, the trip was all too familiar: they marched up a flight of stairs instead of down, but when they reached the floor where the torture was going to happen, they sat Katie down on a leather seat–she could already guess it was going to be a modified obstetrician’s exam chair. Quick, skilled hands strapped padded cuffs to each of Katie’s ankles, and she could feel her legs move with the chair’s extensions on a swivel.
Yep. The chair.
Katie hadn’t experienced that apparatus in South Carolina, but since she had become an expert on Andromeda, she knew that this was a standard apparatus. The hands secured her wrists, with two more padded cuffs, to the armrests, and Katie took a deep breath to prepare for what was coming when they removed the silk bag.
Katie gritted her teeth as the bag began to pull over her head. The three girls were there, but not Jen Chung. She looked and saw that the Korean was in the spotter’s position, with the Honduran and the Texan each at one of her feet. She found herself nursing a vain hope that this trio would not be as skilled as the girls who came to know her so intimately in South Carolina.
The spotter spoke. “I’m Hana, but Jenny Chung already told you that, didn’t she?” Katie didn’t speak but tried to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth, to steady herself for what she knew was coming. “Did she tell you that these are Lisa and Carla?” Katie looked past her at the wall. Hana just leaned over so that her grinning face occupied Katie’s glare. “Hmm? Did she?”
“I told Chung everything I know. I don’t know why you brought me here.”
The Honduran let out an evil chuckle. “We’ll decide what you know and what you don’t know, Katie Jones. But you are right that you saved us some time by telling the Council woman everything you told her.”
“So I guess you won’t have to tickle me as much?”
Now the Texan laughed. “You know that’s not how this works, Katie. What you know is the work part of what we do. Once we get that out of the way we can start having our real fun.” Both of the other girls grinned as she laid out the plan.
“Look, Zoe and Casi and Gina already did everything to me that Andromeda does to a woman. I know you’re going to tickle me. I know you’re going to force me into orgasm. None of this is news.”
Lisa (Katie was thinking their names now) laughed and began to trace a fingertip up and down Katie’s sole. “Come on, Katie. We all saw you with Jen Chung.” Hearing her name, Katie let slip her first giggle, and Lisa’s finger sped up. Katie felt Carla’s fingernails on her other foot’s sole, and her toes curled in vain flight. “You’re not going to sit there and pretend you don’t love what a good foot-tickling does to your libido.” The Texan accent saying the Latin word was suddenly the funniest thing that Katie had heard all night, and her belly betrayed her, letting out a squeal and unleashing a bouncing laugh. Both Andromeda girls were going full speed now, and Katie realized that she had forgotten just how intense the feeling was, the touching, the giggling, the utter hopelessness at their hands. She moaned as she felt the last bit of defiance leave her, and then the laughter filled every space in her being. These girls were every bit as skilled as her first ticklers, and Katie began to remember the utter helplessness that comes with an Andromeda tickling.
“Please! I don’t know anything else!”
Hana laughed from the stool. “Keep begging, Katie, it’s really cute, but you know we’re not after any information yet. You might just lie to us!”
Carla joined the taunting. “We’re going to tickle you until you want to do anything we tell you to, just so you can keep feeling that feeling. And then we’re going to tickle you more just to make sure you know who’s giving the orders here.”
Katie squealed and moaned and giggled as they kept at her feet, and she felt Carla release her foot. Lisa kept tickling, and Katie kept giggling, but Katie did manage to look up to see Hana taking her post at Katie’s left foot. Hana was a silly girl, but she tickled like a devil, and Katie’s ankle tried to thrash this way and that to avoid her fingers. Nothing brought her relief, of course: Hana was every bit the torturer as all-business Lisa and the tough girl Carla. And she had been watching Carla, who now sat in the spotter’s stool, tickle her foot, and she went straight for the gaps between Katie’s toes, making her beg with more desperation. “What do you want from me? Just tell me!” They were not telling her anything, of course, and expert, sadistic fingers kept her laughing and squirming, and all four women could feel what was happening as they tickled.
Carla leaned forward on the stool. “So we’re going to just make you climax when you don’t want to, right?” Katie groaned and grunted in an attempt to deny the torturer her triumph, but she knew that the moment any of them touched her in a way that invited her body over the edge, her ticklish skin would turn against her without hesitation or remorse.
And as she was thinking that, so Lisa made it happen: Katie felt a tongue between her toes, and she tried with all of her might to squeeze her abdominal muscles, to refuse the electric jolt that seized her inner legs, her hips, the parts of her that–she still tried to convince herself–just needed a man, just for a night, just for half an hour.
But no man was on the way to rescue her, and Lisa’s tongue kept pulling on that invisible rope, and Katie felt herself moaning and laughing, felt her consciousness drift out of her head and down between her hips. Behind her tight-shut eyes a light show shot across her consciousness, and she tasted the groan that escaped between her lips even before she felt the wave of sexual pleasure crash down on her, fill up the room, wash through all four of her limbs there in the repurposed obstetrician’s chair. The two hands tickling one foot disengaged, but Lisa’s mouth continued to work her skin until the Texan was sure and doubly sure that her prisoner had in fact reached orgasm.
Katie panted, tried to catch her breath, willed herself to muster defiance, a curse, anything to let these girls know that she was a grown woman, and they didn’t have control over her strong mind.
Nothing. She just panted as her nervous system hummed in the silence.
Katie saw Lisa moving towards the stool and Carla to her foot. Lisa put words into the air: “We don’t want you to talk to us too early, Katie–you might lie to us. But whatever you do when we start tickling you again, don’t think about what Elizabeth Morton told you about Andromeda.” Katie squeezed her eyes shut as hard as she could. This wasn’t just a news story this time–she knew now that Andromeda was a threat to American security, that Elizabeth Morton was the only one putting the pieces together in the federal law-enforcement world, that…
Carla’s fingers began to scratch at Katie’s sole, and she felt the secrets trying to escape from her mouth. As Hana joined in on her other foot, Katie could only shout, “Stop it!”
Nobody was stopping.
For days on end in South Carolina Katie had experienced the unstoppable force of her own ticklish nerves after a climax, but the memory had gotten faint in the ensuing weeks. This was nothing short of superhuman–Katie thought she could just treat what Andromeda was doing to her as meaningless sex, but this time the fingers were pulling laughter out through her feet, and the laughter was already building another explosion between her hips. None of that was new. This time, though, those parts of her–the parts that she could keep under such disciplined control when she was on a story–were rifling through the files she kept in her mind. Everything that Andromeda wanted to know about Elizabeth Morton was right there on the front edge of her consciousness, and Hana and Carla were shaking the shelf until it rocked back and forth, tipping forward, leaning back, about to fall…
“No! I can’t!”
From the spotter’s stool Lisa leered at the reporter who thought she would never crack under tickling again. “Don’t worry, Katie. We don’t even want you to talk right now. You could tell us every naughty secret you ever wanted to tell, and we’d keep tickling those delicious feet of yours. You have no way out!”
Katie howled in laughter, trying to imagine a billowing American flag, her deceased grandparents, anything that would keep her from betraying Elizabeth Morton. But then, she had already betrayed, hadn’t she? Morton was on her way to the midwest, and Andromeda was going to put her in a chair just like this one, and would even the mighty Elizabeth Morton be able to hold out under this kind of tickling if they really wanted something from her? Carla’s fingernails told her no over and over again: every second she seemed to find newly vulnerable skin, to scratch her in just such a way that her orgasm-energized flesh wanted to make promises, to surrender completely, just so that they would…
Would what? Hana’s fingers tickled her heel, and Katie moaned in frustration, and the sliver of her mind that wasn’t tickled into disintegration started to wonder whether she hadn’t agreed to come with the Andromeda girls not to save a college girl she had never met but because she wanted to be at their disposal again, wanted to have these cruel, expert fingers take away the facade that she had to maintain to survive in the political journalism world.
What if Katie secretly wanted to be tickled as much as Jen Chung did?
The mental sliver dissolved as Hana moved her attention from Jen’s heel to sweeping strokes from her instep up to the ball of Katie’s foot. Katie’s arms, driven only by instinct, pulled at her restraints as her head flew back against the chair’s pillow and she laughed with greater abandon. Carla’s fingernails scratched the stems of Katie’s toes, and Katie’s hips twisted this way and that in agony that was ecstasy and that drove her ever closer to another climax.
One foot stopped feeling the tickling, and Katie opened her eyes, eyesight getting blurry, to see Lisa taking her position at her foot. Hana did not move towards the stool but to a position between Katie’s knees. Katie pressed her head backwards into the pillow again and, laughing madly because Carla never stopped tickling and Lisa had started, tried to muster whatever she could muster to brace against the wave. She felt Hana’s limber fingers peel her panties to one side, felt a face between her thighs, rode a surge that made her whole abdomen shudder before she even felt that tongue sliding in.
Katie’s eyes flew wide open, staring in ecstasy at the ceiling as she shrieked in ticklish, agonized pleasure. Whatever she would have called her mind before was nowhere to be found; her very soul was an open book to these terrible women, and her arched back collapsed down onto the chair as all three women left her skin. Whatever they asked her next, the answer was already theirs. She panted, unable to remember what it would have felt like to be ashamed at betraying something so abstract as a country.
She heard Carla’s voice in the darkness behind her eyelids. “Do you think she’s ready?”
Lisa repled. “Let’s get her a change of clothes and let her rest. We don’t want any physical injuries before we take her to the big show.”
Big… show… rest…
* * * * * * *
Had it been five days? Twenty years? Katie Jones had lost all sense of time, but as she rode, blind in the silk bag that covered her eyes, she couldn’t remember the Andromeda girls’ ever asking her questions about Elizabeth Morton, even as they tickled her out of her mind over and over. She wasn’t as confident as that beautiful Black Amazon with whom she’d had lunch, whose laugh and whose legs she now fantasized about without a second thought. If the Andromeda girls had asked Katie Jones for anything, she would have given it to them.
Katie knew that this time it was a van–when she had boarded, she heard a sliding door open, and now that the van had once again stopped, the same large metal door moved on tracks to expose Katie to cool night air.
The Andromeda girls led Katie, in a fresh nightgown and once again in flip-flops, across what felt like a paved parking lot and to a ground-level door. Immediately she could tell that something was different: usually the torture-houses were precisely that: houses. And most houses had some kind of step-up to get inside.
Once they were through the door, the sound was different too: the ambient sounds that Katie could pick up weren’t coming from house-sized spaces; she was in a much bigger sort of building. The fall of her captors’ boots echoed, and Katie could feel her flip-flops making their way over a hard floor, perhaps concrete or tile rather than carpet. A warehouse? Maybe. A gymnasium? Possibly. Every step she took, or that her captors took, echoed in the cavernous quiet.
Katie acquiesced as Lisa and Carla sat her down in a chair, and she felt all-too-familiar padded stocks close over her ankles. Her flip-flops pulled away from her feet, and she could feel the air on her soles. But then nobody secured her hands. Self-consciously Katie rubbed her wrists, wondering why she could still move them. Then the bag came off of her head.
Katie looked around, her eyes starving to put some context to what her ears had discerned. Katie sat on a padded bench, her ankles stocked and her feet bare. That much she already knew. But then she saw an empty bench to her right, just like hers, with no restraints for hands. And behind her, elevated so that whoever sat on it would be well above her, a recliner was on a platform, so that the footrest, when extended, would come to rest precisely between the two benches. All three seats occupied an island of bright light in a sea of darkness–Katie could make out almost nothing outside the circle that a trio of spotlights carved out of the grand space. She looked down at her ankles, thinking that she might open the stocks and escape, since her hands were free, but a heavy padlock kept her ankles in place.
“Who’s there?”
Her voice echoed.
“What do you want from me? You know I don’t have anything you need!”
Katie heard boot heels click on hard wood. Hana, dressed all in black leather and fishnet hose, stepped into the light. She looked like a biker-girl Halloween costume, and Katie was already thinking about what fun it would be to tickle her until she begged. “There you go again, assuming you know what we need! But it’s not your turn yet, Katie.” Hana’s fingers tapped the tops of Katie’s toes with each of the following words: “Wait… your… turn!”
Katie lunged forward and grabbed the padlock, but to no avail: it was fastened and not inclined to go anywhere. She sat backwards in frustration and glared at Hana, but in a moment another sight seized her attention: another spotlight, and another circle. In the circle Katie saw a woman’s figure lying supine, her legs pointing in an acute angle towards the unseen ceiling.
Someone was in the Flying V.
Katie heard more boots, and when she turned to where Hana had been, she discovered she was alone again in her spotlight. But three figures emerged into the other, all three in the same leather gear. This time Carla spoke, but not to Katie. She seemed to address another presence in the darkness. “For our first act, we present to you none other than Traci Carter, all the way from Topeka. Sit back and relax, and save your energy…” Katie could feel Carla’s eyes turn towards her. “The main event is yet to come!”
Katie leaned forward again, trying to lift the top of the stocks. Nothing. She looked across the gymnasium’s floor–she could see the hardwood of a basketball court around Traci’s body–and saw Lisa take a seat on a spotter’s stool as the other two sat on shorter stools, each at one of Carter’s bare feet. Those legs were not those of a supermodel–they said ballet mom more than magazine cover–but Katie could not keep her eyes averted as Carla and Hana’s hands grew nearer to them.
Traci’s laughter was desperate in a way that Katie had not anticipated–she squealed at first, and she bounced into a cackle as the two Andromeda agents began to work on her, but Katie heard something familiar, something that she had never had the chance to examine because, before, the tickling itself always commanded too much of her attention. But as they tickled her soles, and as Traci writhed on the mattress they had placed her on, Katie knew that she was listening to a version of her own torture. Traci was hating every moment of their fingers and the sensations and the futile dignity of a woman trying not to laugh when her body will do nothing else, but that wasn’t all Katie was hearing. As Hana and Carla tickled Traci Carter’s toes and scratched fingernails across her heels, Katie started to hear an undercurrent in the laughter, a subtext in the squeals and moans.
Traci Carter wanted this.
Katie tried to shut her eyes, but her eyes would not shut: she watched as the working mother who had started this whole investigation writhed and squealed and laughed into the vast, open, echoing air. If this was torture, she wanted more of the torment than she wanted anything, and if Katie Jones and Traci Carter had saved young Maddie from anything, it was the sight that Katie now beheld across an abandoned basketball gym, a woman laughing from touches that she could not control and a woman who starved until the next touch scratched her heel, rubbed the base of her toes, swept across her sole and drew more torment, more giggles, another moan.
As they tickled Traci Carter, Carla looked up from her designated foot and locked eyes with Katie. Katie looked directly back at her: if they wanted her to want this, they had accomplished it. But Katie also knew that she was just on the edge of bringing it all down; she just had to escape after this, and she could put together the pieces that would bring Andromeda down. She just had to last through the tickling that these girls were going to give her in front of the shadowy audience.
Traci Carter was a pretty woman, no doubt someone who did not have trouble getting boyfriends in high school, but Katie didn’t think that the middle-aged woman in the flying V would attract any kind of attention like the young, athletic women tickling her would have. Yet in that gymnasium, Katie could not take her eyes off of those hips, those legs, those feet. She felt herself flexing her own fingers, imagining having a turn on those soles. Traci’s hips bucked, then shuddered, and Katie knew that Traci had gotten what she came here for. But the Andromeda girls didn’t stick around to give her the post-climax tickles that only Traci Carter and Katie Jones and a handful of other women in the world knew about: they were making their way back to Katie’s side of the gym. Katie swallowed and tried to steel herself mentally for what was coming next.
But even a veteran journalist sometimes gets surprised. Hana and Carla and Lisa stopped halfway across the floor, and another spotlight illuminated the far side of the gym. Three more Andromeda girls–Katie knew their look–led a tall Black woman across the floor towards Katie.
Katie’s jaw dropped. She knew that her phone call had brought Elizabeth Morton to Kansas, but as a Chinese Andromeda girl and her Black counterpart crossed the floor, a white Andromeda girl with bright pink dyed hair in tow, Katie could not help herself–the surprise and the guilt overtook her. Blindfolded, clad in a pink silk nightgown not unlike Katie’s green silk, Morton was a sight to see as they brought her close. Katie looked again at the bench next to her, and a thrill shot up her spine: they were going to tickle Elizabeth Morton. Katie was going to see with her own eyes what she had only fantasized about in the Caribbean.
Morton still could not see Katie–her head was in the same kind of silk bag that had kept Katie from seeing her surroundings–and when they secured Elizabeth’s ankles in a matching set of stocks, her long ebony legs perpendicular to Katie’s, they removed the bag. Morton looked around, saw Katie, and narrowed her eyes. “They already had you when you called.”
“I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be, Katie. They’ve gone too far this time. They’ll have their fun tonight, but DHS is going to track down every one of them and–”
Lisa shouted Elizabeth down. “Your federal agents are out of their league dealing with us, Morton, and so are you!”
“Go ahead and get off on tickling our feet, kid. When they throw you in the federal pen, I’m going to personally make sure everyone you ever terrorized knows exactly what prison you’re in so that they can send all kinds of revenge down on your head!”
Carla stepped forward. “Sounds like somebody wants a world-class tickling tonight! I’m going to have you begging again in no time, you delicious chocolate amazon!” Lisa and Hana laughed as Morton glared.
Lisa turned again to the unseen audience. “And now what you’ve come to Kansas to see! Which of these women, at the tops of their worlds, do we get to reduce to a giggling, begging little girl tonight? Will it be the journalist or the special agent?”
Katie heard a chuckle from the darkness. Somewhere out in that space a man was watching.
Lisa continued. “Either way, we’re not starting with either one but with some feet that you’ve only ever seen on video before. Andromeda is proud to present…” She paused for effect, looking at Mortona and Jones. “Live from Boston, Council Woman Jennifer Chung!”
Now it was Katie’s turn to be shocked. From the same door whence Elizabeth Morton had emerged, out stepped Jen Chung. She wore neither a politician’s suit nor a lover’s lingerie but a model’s bikini. A study in red, white, and blue covered only a minimum, and Katie once again found herself staring, feeling her fingers bend and simulate tickling strokes as she looked at the politician’s legs and feet. She strode like a queen across the hardwood floor, high heels clicking on the basketball court as she walked behind the two imprisoned women until she reached the base of the platform behind them. There she took the shoes off and climbed a set of stairs up to the platform and sat in the recliner. She extended the footrest, and each of her slender feet came to rest within arm’s length of each of the captive women.
Now Jen spoke up. “The game is simple, ladies. Each of you is going to tickle one of my feet until I’m satisfied. Then the one who tickles best gets to keep at it, and the one who doesn’t gets tickled by an Andromeda team!”
Now Katie knew why her arms were free, why she could reach the elevated recliner’s foot rest. Jen Chung’s feet bobbed playfully in the air. Katie looked into the darkness, trying to see the mysterious person Lisa had been addressing. Then she turned her eyes towards Elizabeth Morton, and once again she started imagining what it would look like for that warrior of a woman to be reduced to giggling and moaning. Katie’s hand reached up to grasp Jen Chung’s ankle. “I’m sorry, Elizabeth.”
Katie’s fingernails went wild on the politician’s heel, and the reward was instantaneous: Chung, who had no interest in pretending to resist the touches, squealed in tickled delight and let her bouncing giggles fly out into the air. Katie kept her fingers moving as she locked eyes with Elizabeth Morton’s unbelieving stare. Katie stayed on the heel as Morton, her face still a mask of disgust with Katie Jones, grabbed the other ankle and started tickling Jen Chung’s toes. Chung’s head rocked back as her laughter echoed through the mostly-empty space. The two Andromeda teams started to take their places at the feet of the two benches, the squad that had tickled Katie assuming positions at Elizabeth Morton’s feet and the new ones at Katie’s.
Katie shifted her target, sweeping fingertips across Jen’s soles and extracting a moan for her troubles. Somehow Katie knew that her own fingers, not Morton’s, were sending Jen Chung through the roof and towards the tickled climax that Andromeda always seemed to be chasing. (The jolt be damned.) Morton’s face started to look desperate, and her own hands kept tickling the Council Woman’s foot as quickly as she could. Jen Chung rubbed herself through the bikini bottom as the two women tickled her feet, and her laughter shot into the air through gasps of erotic pleasure. Katie did not dare stop tickling: if she could get out of this exhibition without getting her feet tickled, she could escape and file the story and bring this whole thing down. But she had to make sure that Andromeda couldn’t invade her mind tonight, that Elizabeth Morton and not Katie Joes received the wrath of Andromeda.
As Jen Chung shrieked her ticklish orgasm, Katie almost had herself convinced that the mission was the real reason she kept tickling as she did.
Lisa’s voice boomed again. “Alright, ladies, stop tickling!” Both Jones and Morton followed the command instantly. They released Jen Chung’s ankles, and Chung leaned back in her chair, stretching her legs in glorious sexual ecstasy. Katie could just imagine what the laughing man in the darkness was doing with his own hands as he watched this spectacle.
The silent minutes between Chung’s orgasm and what came next were agonizing: Katie Jones could feel her own desires pulsing with every beat of her heart, and she knew that if these new Andromeda girls were anything like their counterparts in the other two squads (and why wouldn’t they be?), she would be clay in their hands. Lisa once again spoke up. “You can only choose one of them, Secretary Chung. Who’s going to tickle your feet now?”
Secretary Chung? Secretary Chung? Katie’s eyes flew open. Who is Secretary Chung?
“I want Katie to tickle me some more.”
Katie’s head was reeling. What had just happened? To her right the laugh that Katie had been dreaming of suddenly split the air. Lisa and Hana began to tickle Morton’s creamy, light-colored soles, and Morton shrieked as her already-stimulated skin betrayed her instantly. Katie heard a voice from beyond her own feet. “You’d better start tickling, Jones, or we have the green light to make you regret that you haven’t!” She looked to see that the Black and the Chinese Andromeda girls had taken their places, leaving the white one with her dyed hair in the spotter’s position. Katie’s hands flew to their work: she grasped an ankle again and began to scratch at the stems of Jen Chung’s toes. Chung screamed in pleasure, and Katie recognized instantly the sound of a post-climax ticklish woman. The difference was that this time, the tickled woman was free to leave at any moment, and the tickler was prisoner, threatened with her own dismantling at the hands of professional-grade tickle tortures. Katie tickled because she wanted to tickle, because she feared being tickled, because she knew that parts of her that wanted an Andromeda tickling more than anything else would trade anything–even the story–to fall under those cruel, expert, tickling fingers.
Elizabeth Morton moaned as Carla reached one hand up and began scratching at her inner thigh, and Katie saw Hana tag in Lisa, spotting a jolt and no doubt wanting to exploit the federal agent’s emerging ticklish spot. Katie wondered what it would be like to chase a jolt, but she had no such luxury: the Andromeda girls who at this point had never put hands on her leered at her bare feet, and Katie tickled the bucking Massachussetts politician with abandon. She heard Chung start to moan again, and Katie marveled at the difference between the two women so close by. One battled against the sensuous and the sexual touches that were breaking down her well-practiced defiance. The other had abandoned herself to the tickling and never doubted that the only thing she wanted was more.
And the third, as Katie reflected on her own plight, was getting more and more randy tickling a woman she had learned to despise as a traitor and a pervert, even as she learned to desire those ticklish feet in ways she had never desired her husband back when she had a husband. Katie’s fingers flew, learning a precision and a ravenous appetite for ticklish skin that she never would have imagined when first she started investigating the case of Traci Carter.
Katie felt Jen Chung shudder again, and she knew that she had done to the politician what Gina and Zoe and Casi had done to her so many times in South Carolina, and she paused her tickling as those Andromeda girls–she still needed to discover whether they really had gone rogue–had taught her to pause. Turning towards Elizabeth, Katie saw the sight that she wouldn’t let herself fantasize about before, the athletic torso heaving into a climax as Carla’s fingers reached between her legs and Lisa’s lips wrapped around her toes. Nobody had touched Katie Jones’s feet yet, and she knew that the instant somebody did, something was going to break. Whatever name she gave to it, that energy in Katie Jones, reporter from Interest magazine, wanted for someone to tickle her toes, to ignite the electrical sizzle in her soles, to drive her where before she feared someone might drive her.
And that night, in that gymnasium, nobody touched her feet. She tickled Jen Chung to a third orgasm, watched Morton suffer two more, and wondered again and again about the mysterious man in the darkness, but when they put the silk bag over her head again to lead her out of the gymnasium, her feet walked, clad in flip-flops, untickled. And despite going through the whole ordeal without anyone’s forcing her to laugh even once, Katie’s body was excited and exhausted and exhilarated all at once as she wondered where they would take her next.
* * * * * * *
Two of the Andromeda girls pushed Katie forward through a hallway until they reached a reinforced door. A third used a magnetic key card to gain access, and a pneumatic release allowed the door to swing open. They led Katie in through another short hall and to a transparent divider.
Exhausted, Katie still found the scene fascinating: On her side of the glass (she assumed it must be unbreakable–that was the Andromeda way) they were in an antiseptic hallway, amost like a hospital’s. On the other side, a windowless but luxurious hotel room stretched out before her eyes. She could see a private bathroom and a large television, a chair and a table and a small kitchen and a large bed.
And that’s where Katie’s eyes fixed: on the bed, raising herself up on one elbow in exhaustion, was Elizabeth Morton. The Andromeda girls pushed Katie through the plexiglass wall’s sliding door, let it shut behind them, and walked back through the metal door, leaving the two exhibitions alone in the room together.
“I’m so sorry, Elizabeth–if I hadn’t brought you here, they would have kidnapped–”
“Don’t, Katie. That’s how Andromeda is trying to get inside your head. I let you win that tickle contest so they would tickle me instead of you.”
“What? Why would you–”
“You called me three days ago. I assumed that they had you in tickle chairs and the flying V and everywhere else, getting inside your mind. I didn’t want you to break in front of that pig Auerbach.”
Katie’s hands flew to her mouth. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry.” Auerbach? Katie made a mental note.
Morton turned towards the blank wall. “Don’t be sorry. We’re not done here. By the time Andromeda decides we’re done, there’s no telling what they’re going to have either of us doing.”
Katie’s chest heaved. She remembered times when dying in this place would have been her greatest fear, but right now all she could muster was terror when she imagined what the sadists from Andromeda’s Gamma Squad had in store for her. Her eyes rested on Morton, also in a nightgown, her long dark legs and the cream-colored soles of her feet bringing to Katie’s mind a question that the reporter who flew to Kansas never would have asked.
“Elizabeth?”
“Yeah, Katie.”
“I don’t know when they’re coming through that door again.”
“Me neither.”
“Can you hold me until they do?”
Morton turned her head and looked at Katie with sympathetic eyes. “Yeah, Katie. Come here.”
Katie joined the DHS director in the bed, silk nightgown brushing against silk nightgown, and Katie felt strong arms wrap around her. Morton whispered in her ear. “No matter what happens, no matter what they make you do, you’re going to be alright.”
Katie nodded and shut her eyes, feeling the warmth of a body that wasn’t tormenting her. Then she planted a hand on the mattress turned her body to face Morton, and found her lips with her own. Their embrace lingered, their kisses continued, and Katie let sleep take her in the arms of Elizabeth Morton.
