Part 1: https://www.ticklingforum.com/threa...-f-f-a-star-wars-andor-tickling-story.463200/
Part 2: https://www.ticklingforum.com/threads/soles-of-rebellion-part-2-a-star-wars-andor-story-f-f.463479/
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This is the last part of this series that I've got planned, though the ending does leave things open to further adventures. Enjoy, and remember these things:
1) Leave a comment when you've finished!
2) Then go to another writer's story and leave a comment there.
3) Have a look at my tickle novels (links in my signature)--300 pages of exclusive material each
Soles of Rebellion, a Star Wars Fanfic part 3 (m/f, f/f)
by
Kid Indy
Narkina 5 Imperial Labor Prison, 5 days ABY
For some, to lead is simply nature. The slender blonde woman at Table 44 had only been transferred to her cell block a few days before, but already she had convinced the other prisoners that following her orders would lead them to greater efficiency and thus to rewards in the Imperial prison. And she was right. Although Table 44 did not finish first every shift, they had not been in danger of finishing last since she seized control of the crew, and the woman who officially held the title Shift Leader soon enough gave way to her natural superior.
At shift’s end, the Imperial guard overseeing the floor announced that Table 44 would be getting flavored food, and the women beamed at the small honor. The blonde woman noted silently that, at least in prison, no incompetent men were stealing her credit. The women lined up at the door to be led back to their quarters to eat and to sleep, and former Imperial Security Bureau Supervisor Dedra Meero walked in front, confident that the small dignity of seasoning in the evening meal would keep her safe from prison violence.
But something suddenly went wrong. The first sign was the guard’s suddenly cupping a hand over his ear to hear his communication device better. Before Meero knew what was happening, the guard broke into a run moving forward, and pneumatic blast door slid down in front of and behind the prisoners. The woman looked at each other, wondering what was happening, and immediately Dedra could tell that they were looking for someone to blame.
A voice came on over an intercom speaker system: “An Imperial Security Detail will be on the scene shortly. Sit down with your backs to the wall, and do not move.” Everyone knew that the verbal warning was only the prelude to the real power, the electrified floors that would drop the toughest of them with a shock through their bare soles. They moved, well-trained, so that roughly a meter separated woman from woman, sat down, and waited.
The women were in the sealed-off corridor for what seemed several minutes before the pneumatic door on one end of the corridor slid open. Into the corridor marched four Storm Troopers, and a man in a white Imperial Security Bureau uniform emerged behind them. The tall man looked at the women one by one, pointed at Dedra Meero, and ordered her to stand. She did, and the door slid shut behind the six of them, leaving the women from the cell block behind.
“Restrain the prisoner’s hands.” The Storm Troopers put magnetic cuffs on Dedra’s wrists, and they continued to march towards a small Imperial Shuttle. They marched her up its boarding ramp and to a jump seat, strapped her into a safety harness without removing the cuffs, and left the shuttle to talk to the officer. Dedra heard him issuing them parting orders. “This prisoner is an intelligence asset related to the Death Star, so you will not transmit a report of this transfer for thirty days.”
“Understood, Supervisor.”
“You’ve done well, soldier.” With that the tall officer returned to the shuttle and shut the boarding ramp. Dedra heard the craft’s engines hum to life, and within seconds the shuttle lifted off and began its ascent through the planet’s atmosphere.
Dedra called out from her seat. “You’re lying about something Dorrian. What is this really about?”
Silence.
“Did they find that rebel base in the Yavin system?”
More silence.
“I’m impressed that you landed on your feet after taking me into the Death Star unauthorized.”
This time boots walked around the corner to where Dedra was seated. Supervisor Dorrian wore a smile on his face. “The prison’s administrators don’t even know that the Death Star was destroyed yet. Word is spreading, but I got you out in time.”
Dedra raised an incredulous eyebrow. “How did they manage that, Dorrian? Didn’t the ISB track down those stolen plans?”
“Lord Vader took over that operation personally. They tracked the plans down to an Outer Rim planet, but they were unable to recover them.”
“So the Princess was lying about Yavin.”
Dorrian scowled, and Dedra knew that he was hiding some kind of story.
“No matter. Is Tarkin asking for me now that Krennic’s superweapon is gone?”
“Tarkin is dead, Dedra.”
Now Dedra really was getting concerned. “Certainly Lord Vader doesn’t know about me.”
“Vader is lost at space. Tracking teams are retrieving him right now. And before you ask, Palpatine has gone underground. The Imperial Navy is regrouping to attack the Rebel base on Yavin. Nobody knows what will come of the Empire in the days to come.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I’m getting out of the ISB, Dedra. When Vader and Palpatine come back, all of us are likely to end up like Partagaz.”
“Where do I come into this?”
“We’re going into business, Dedra. You’re the best investigator the ISB ever had. And I’m your strongest protege. Between your mind and mine, we’re going to become the best private contractors in the Outer Rim.”
“Bounty hunters, you mean?”
“Call it what you will, Dedra. We’ll stay alive, and with any luck, we’ll make enough money with a few jobs to stay out of the Empire’s reach. Then you can go and do whatever you want.”
“If we’re going to be business partners, let me out of these restraints.”
As if on cue, the thundering bump of a smaller craft docking with a larger one shook the shuttle. “There’s one thing that I might have left out earlier.”
Dedra looked frantically from one side of the shuttle to another. “What was that?”
“Every Imperial craft with hyperspace capabilities has deep-space trackers built in. The small craft we’re in can’t jump to light speed, but it also doesn’t have a transponder with enough range to track it when it jumps. What we need to get started is someone to take us for a ride to the Outer Rim.”
The sound of footsteps began to echo up the boarding ramp. “Dorrian, what have you done?”
“I’ve saved our lives. See that you don’t do anything rash to forfeit them.”
Dedra was surprised to see six women board the shuttle. Each of them had her own style, and each one’s clothes bore the signs of combat operations. These were definitely pirates. One of them, not the tallest but one of them, ran a dark brown finger down the front of Dorrian’s chest. “Is this the girl you told us about, Dorrian? I expected someone younger.”
“My dear Tarin, this is no girl–Diana used to be one of the Imperial Security Bureau’s most decorated investigators. She’s as tough as they make them.”
“Do you still want us to get her ready for you?”
Dorrian looked at Dedra and grinned. “Absolutely. Style her as you will, and bring her back to me.”
The leader turned and looked at Dedra. “Come, my Imperial lady. It’s time to get ready for the show.” Dorrian released the cuffs, and the girls, none of whom likely could have beaten Dedra by herself but who remained dangerous in a pack, led Dedra, still barefoot, down the ramp off the shuttle and into what looked like a cargo bay. One of the smaller girls handed her something purple, and the leader nodded at her. “Take off those prison clothes and put that on.”
Dedra held up the silk nightgown with one finger and her thumb and scowled at the one Dorrian had called Tarin. “This isn’t long enough for me.”
A smirk. “For the line of work our girls are in, it’s plenty long enough.”
“I’m not putting this on.”
The leader gestured to the largest of the women, who took a long stride and stood chest to chest with Dedra. Dedra found herself looking up at a much taller and more solid woman. The leader spoke again. “Let’s be real friendly here, Diana. I’m Tarin Wa. And if you don’t put that on, we’re going to put it on you. And you’re going to like putting it on yourself a lot better.”
Dedra’s eyes narrowed. “Turn around.”
“No can do, sweet cheeks. Your boyfriend played up how dangerous you were. I don’t know if that’s just a sales pitch or not, but we’re not taking our eyes offa you. Now put it on!”
Boyfriend. Certainly he knows better than to… Still, six women, one of them a giant. Still no real chance of winning or escaping.
She started to strip off her prison jumper. Now, down to her panties and prison-work bra, she started to put an arm through the silk nightgown.
“Not yet, Diana. Off come the undies.”
Dedra paused to stare Tarin down, already fantasizing about the moment when she could be alone with her and break her neck. But she did take off her undergarments and put on the purple silk against her bare skin. After days in prison clothes, the fabric did feel luxurious. But her estimation earlier was right–the silk barely reached the bottom of her bum in the back, and she tugged at the front in the vain hope that she would stay covered when she took her first step forward. “Alright. Now can we get back to Dorrian and whatever I’m doing in these ridiculous clothes? Is this sleeping gown supposed to humiliate me and break me mentally?”
“The gown was his idea, sweetie. I have no idea what he’s got planned for you.”
The women escorted Dedra through another corridor and to a room that looked like an overpriced vacation resort room. Dorrian was waiting for them, and he seemed nothing short of delighted at seeing Dedra’s humiliation. “Welcome back, ladies! As we arranged, let me show you some possibilities for this one, and then we can negotiate terms on our deal!”
Tarin put a hand on her hip. “We could just kill you and take this one for ourselves.” Dedra felt a hand caress her silk-covered bottom, and she stepped away from her. “A blonde Coruscant lady would fetch some good money in the Outer Rim.”
Dorrian folded his arms over his chest. “You could do that, but she’d kill the first John you sold her to, and then your reputation would be shot all the way across the galaxy. But you already knew that. Do you want to strap her in so that I can show you what I really came here to demonstrate?”
Dedra stepped to the side, but the women had hands on her arms before she could get anywhere. “Strap in? Dorrian, what is this?” They forced her over to a padded metal chair. Dedra guessed by the thickness of the arms that they had some kind of servo motor in them. She struggled but did not lash out, and before long they had her forearms and ankles strapped to the armrests and to footrests, one for each ankle, that reminded Dedra of an obstetric chair’s stirrups.
Tarin grinned at the sight. “Now what? I have a hunch that she’s not going to warm up even if we feel her up.”
“Not yet, Tarin. As I said, my technique is for the reluctant girls, not for the ones who already know their jobs.”
“Dorrian, when I’m out of this chair I’m going to murder you!”
Dorrian grinned broadly at the women. “You see? A truly dangerous specimen. But I’m going to show you a suite of products that are going to take care of that. You already see my chair–now let me show you what it can do.” With the push of one button, the armrests rose, pulling Dedra’s arms upwards and exposing her underarms. She expected him to raise her feet as well–it wasn’t hard to see where this was going– but her knees remained bent and her soles centimeters off the floor.
“On Coruscant there’s an entire sub-industry for Giggle Girls. The girls don’t get injured nearly as often as conventional escorts, and the clientele get so focused that you can stay in the room with them, and they won’t take their eyes off of their best spots.”
Tarin smirked. “And you think we’re going to make money in the Outer Rim on this? We’re talking about salvage boys and gambling dens out where we’re going.”
“I’ll bet you’ve got some Johns who already want this from your girls. You get the word out that you’ve got Giggle Girls like they have in the Core, and the money will take care of itself.”
“Alright. I’ll see what you have to show me.”
“With pleasure.” He stooped down and talked in a low voice to Dedra, so that the lady pirates could hear but had to lean in. “I’ve wanted this for some time, Dedra. I’m going to enjoy this.” He took a step to the side and around the back of the chair. Dedra pulled at her restraints, but the chair was solid. Then she felt Dorrian’s fingers make contact with the skin of her underarms.
“I’m going to kill you, Dorrian! When I escape from these degenerates you’re a dead man!”
“I think you need to smile more, Dedra.” Meero felt the fingers start to press on her flesh, and she bit her lip at the sensation. Syril had tried to tickle her once, when they shared an apartment together, but the bruises that he got at the first touch curbed that impulse immediately. But Corrian, this younger, stronger man, had her completely helpless. As his fingers continued to poke and rub, she could not even cover up, much less hit or kick him. She felt a yelp start to build in her abdomen, and she tried with all of her might to suppress the urge to laugh as his fingers continued their work. “I knew it had to be true, Dedra. You know too much about how ticklish your girls get not to be ticklish yourself. You know you can’t win this. Can I get my ticklish girl to laugh for me?”
Dedra let out a scream as her body betrayed her, and then she started to laugh, her ticklish skin refusing her the dignity of resistance. She tried to growl, but Dorrian’s fingers seemed magically to transform even that noise of protest into giggling. She realized, as she heard herself making the sounds that she had drawn out of the younger women, that she never knew the term Giggle-Girls. Had he made that term up?
Dorrian pinched Dedra’s bottom rib, and Dedra squealed in spite of herself. The irony struck her as funny, and between Dorrian’s relentless tickling and her own momentary amusement her laughter got louder, fuller, freer. She glanced over Dorrian’s shoulder and saw that the women were thoroughly enjoying the sight, and as her eyes tracked past them to the wall, she somehow knew that this was not merely sadism for Dorrian; she could feel in every touch, every rub and pinch, something of the way that she used to regard Syril, the desire to dominate, something entirely erotic. And she hated him for making her the object of his own desire, even as she felt her body warming to his touch–the tickling was torture for her, and much of the torture came from the knowledge that her body would hand itself over to him in any way he wanted if he tickled much longer.
Dorrian’s tickling relented, and Dedra panted, her lungs trying desperately to slow their pace after they had been forced to laugh. The captain, visibly aroused, crossed her arms and tried to maintain a negotiator’s presence. “You said you had tech other than the chair, didn’t you?”
No–he couldn’t possibly have brought that along.
“Yes. I’ve got more to show you, and when you buy this one from me, you can make just about any girl you bring on board into prime Giggle Girl material.” He reached into a leather satchel, and Dedra gasped. What came out was not what she expected–it was some kind of remote control, but not the sort that she had used to control Imperial force-field columns. “You’re going to enjoy this one.”
Dedra heard the hum of a small-droid motor, and her eyes turned towards the floor in search of the shape of MSE-6 Mouse Droids. What wheeled into the room, with the same kind of agility, was not the sleek black maintenance droid that she saw when she was on the Death Star but a larger droid whose paneling was bright pink. It zipped across the floor, and she saw the front of the droid open up two door-like panels as it approached her. She felt a padded bumper make contact with the fronts of her ankles, still close to the floor, and her feet could feel the panels close down over them.
“What is that thing, Dorrian? Get it away from me!”
Dorrian smiled, then turned towards the women. “This machine removes the need for skilled technicians. The droid does all the work for you.”
Dedra tried to wriggle her ankles away from the droid, but they were held fast. Had he really designed a tickling machine? She grunted and struggled, but she heard the droid whir to life beyond her knees, out of her sight.
“Turn it off! Turn it off!”
Dedra’s feet got warm, and she felt the parts of the machine start to make contact with the balls of her feet, then the heels. Dorrian had already tickled her into desperate laughter, and she felt herself laughing at the machine’s touches. But then a respite: the tickling did not get nearly as intense as when Dorrian’s hands were on her body. The machine touched her toes, one by one, grasping at them but not finding the places that she feared Dorrian would if his hands had their way. She giggled, but inside a wave of relief washed over her: her feet weren’t as ticklish as the rest of her body was! The machine continued to pluck at her toes and rub her heels, and once again she giggled from the residual torture that Dorrian had already inflicted on her, but her body wasn’t losing control the way it had before. Dedra knew somewhere deep down that Dorrian was going to notice the difference and would likely return to tickling her armpits and her hips, but for now this was a good rest.
She heard the servo motors activate again, and the cool air of the room once again washed over her feet. She made a decision quickly that she wouldn’t tell Dorrian that the machine hadn’t really tickled her. The wheels squeaked on the floor again, and she saw its pink chassis retreat to the corner of the room.
“Dorrian, when I escape you won’t have anywhere in the galaxy to run. I’m going to find you, and I’m going to kill you.”
The captain spoke up again. “That really is remarkable!” She was looking down at Dedra’s feet.
Dedra growled at Dorrian. “What is she talking about?” Dorrian put the droid’s remote down and picked up the chair’s. With some more mechanical motor-sounds, Dedra’s feet raised and spread wider than her shoulders, elevating to Dorrian’s shoulder level, and she could see her own feet. What first caught her attention was the bright purple nails on each of her long toes. “What is that?”
Dorrian addressed the captain, not Meero. “That, ladies, is a deluxe Coruscant pedicure done in four minutes flat. Meero has been working barefoot in an Imperial prison for months, and her feet were showing it. But now all of those calluses are gone, and her feet are as soft and as perfumed as an Outer-Rim harem wife’s.”
Dedra let her words slip: “Wait–that wasn’t a tickling machine?”
Dorrian laughed and looked her in the eye. His ravenous look took her breath away. “No, but your responses to it tell me that you’ve got some extraordinarily ticklish feet. And now that they’ve been smoothed out and had beauty treatments, they’re going to be sensitive enough that a feather is going to be absolute torment on them.” He looked back at the lady pirates. “If only I had a feather…” And with a stage-magician’s flourish his hand did indeed produce a bright red feather, stiff and pointed at the end. Dedra, do you remember all the times that you called me incompetent when I was a young investigator? Because I do!” He twirled the feather’s blade with his finger and thumb as he approached her raised soles, and her hands gripped the armrests, bracing for the feeling.
Dorrian adjusted his grip and slashed the feather’s tip up Dedra’s sole, hitting just above the heel and lifting off before he reached the ball of her right foot. She squealed at the sudden shock–that feeling really was terrible, and it made her entire abdomen contract. Dorrian looked over his shoulder at the grinning, leering lady pirates, then turned back to Dedra. His eyes were wide, and Dedra somehow knew that he had fantasized about a moment like this every time she had cut him to pieces verbally on Corscant, in the meeting-rooms and hallways of the ISB. Now, far from the Empire’s reach, she knew that nobody was coming to her rescue. Everyone on this craft was interested not in her retrieval, her return to the service of the Empire, but to watching their “tough girl” fantasy melt as he kept tickling… and what else might he have in store?
Worries did not have time to compound; the feather returned, its tip swiping in a zig-zag down her left foot. Dedra’s face twisted into a visage of supercilious revulsion just for a moment, and then her features opened up with every stroke of the feather until her mouth was wide open, singing her laughter for her small audience, her eyes closing, as if the sight of her tormentor had anything to do with the terrible feeling of feather against pedicured, lotion-softened skin.
Dedra’s closed eyes did not see the feather drop from Dorrian’s grip, but what happened next was truly terrible. Dorrian’s fingertips descended on her soles, and Dedra let out a scream of surprise and tickled torment. Her arms pulled in panic at the restraints on the armrests, but neither her arms nor her legs was any match for the reinforced chair, and she could do nothing but let the coerced laughter erupt from her abdomen and ring out through the room. His fingers rubbed, then his fingernails scratched, then his fingertips came back, one wave of the tickling assault following another for a span of time that blurred beyond her ability to know how long he tickled her feet. Her abdomen began to ache from the laughing, but that was on the horizon of her ever-shrinking consciousness as he brought her attention again and again to the next ticklish spot on her feet that his fingers exploited and tormented. Her helpless feet unable to kick or retreat, she could feel another light growing brighter on the horizon, at first a glowing obscure glimmer of pleasure between her legs, growing as he tickled her soles into an ever-more-radiant light that spread to her thighs and to her tiring hips.
The feet-tickling continued, and Dedra felt the first pulse of pleasure shudder through her. The spasm made her abdomen’s fatigue even more pronounced, and she wondered whether the moan that escaped her lips was more pleasure, more exhaustion, or something else entirely. But even that lover’s gasp had to give way to her laughter, giving it for a moment a throaty edge but returning to the clear, ringing song that Dorrian was enjoying so much more than he ever enjoyed hearing any of Meero’s prisoners. Hearing Dedra’s laughter and feeling the soft flesh of her feet was more potent and more ecstatic than he ever imagined, and he had to concentrate to keep his own explosion at bay.
Suddenly Dedra’s eyes flew open. Dorrian was still tickling her left foot, but his hand departed her right. She wanted to threaten, to reason, to beg, but she could only keep laughing as she awaited the next touch of that hand. Dorrian leaned forward between her legs, and Dedra squealed and squirmed as he started to tickle her inner thighs, only inches away from the place that, even more than her soles, had become the center of her being. She writhed at the pinching and scratching, aware in that moment that her responses to all of the tickling before had made the silk nightgown bunch up beneath her lower back, leaving everything below her hips open for the lady pirates to see and for Dorrian to touch and torture. Now neither hand was on her feet, and Dorrian’s face was only tempting inches away from her silk-covered breasts. But his hands did not venture there; they were too busy pinching and caressing her thighs, closing Meero’s eyes again as the tickling and the pleasure magnified each other and made her voice–which she knew she was not at this point controlling–cry out between her desperate laughs.
In a moment of separation, Dedra heard her own laughing voice as if it were coming from somewhere else, and she imagined herself hovering several feet above her own ticklish body. Then Dorrian’s finger found its way to the lips between her thighs, and she could feel herself rush back into her body, moaning at the terrifying pleasure of his finger even as his other hand’s fingers kept her giggling. The finger found its way inside, and her head rocked back against the chair’s headrest. Her hips convulsed, and as her body closed around his finger again and again, she felt the waves of pleasure wash over every part of her.
Somewhere beyond the boundaries of her new universe, she heard a familiar voice, contemptuous and at the same time aroused. “You can take your pants off if you want to. You’re about to burst down there.”
She heard Dorrian’s voice again and realized that her eyes had been shut through the most intense climax that she could ever remember. “No, this is a demonstration. I’m not one of your Johns.” His voice also sounded strained, and she could tell by hearing him that he was on the verge of his own.
“And the Johns that do want Giggle Girls–are they going to want to finish like you want to right now?”
“If they do, they miss out on the pleasures that only the rarest of Tickle-Johns take in.”
A pause. “Are you going to show us?”
Dedra felt a thin trail of liquid run down her body and began to drip, and she suddenly started to long for Dorrian to be inside of her, and not merely his finger.
“Yes. Wait for just a moment. A few moments after a woman climaxes, her skin is more sensitive than any other time in her life.”
Dedra opened her eyes again. She knew that he had watched her do this to Su Jin and to Princess Leia, and the horror of going through it at his hands horrified her and thrilled her in ways that aroused her even further.
“You’re going to tickle her more?”
“As I said, even most Tickle-Johns will get impatient and finish themselves before they ever get here. But for the ones who know, they’ll pay you handsomely for this kind of ticklish victim.”
The word infuriated Dedra’s pride, but her body began to pulse at the sound of it.
“Don’t just tell us, handsome. Show us!”
Dedra felt Dorrian stand again and move to where her feet still awaited his attention. She became aware, as the seconds passed, of a new kind of horror: her whole body, despite the protests of her once-strong will, wanted his hands on her feet again. The skin of her soles was thrilling as she anticipated the return of his touch.
They did not have to wait long; Dedra’s lust splashed through her body as his fingers began again to tickle her soles. The torture and the pleasure were not separate sensations, and her laughter, in her own ears, was a song of ecstasy and release, a music that was the same substance as the glorious electric pulses that shook her entire body as Dorrian tickled her feet. She knew in that moment that she would have given up any Imperial secrets, the life of Darth Vader himself, had Dorrian asked her to. Whatever she had been in the ISB was a strange, distant abstraction next to the overwhelming ticklish blaze that burned brightest wherever Dorriann’s divine fingertips touched her.
Dedra’s mind had no center. She was everywhere, and everywhere was the tickled soles of her feet, then the scratching of Dorrian’s fingernails between her toes, then a pinch at her instep. She did not have to think about whether or not to laugh; silence was a distant and somehow unbelievable memory. All her body and her mind and her spirit knew was the laughter that reached out from every spot that he touched and the sound of her own pleasure.
When his hands left her feet, she heard her own voice call out, “YES!”
And that voice’s prayer was answered mere moments later as, this time, Dedra felt not a finger but a tongue searching its way to the core of her universe of pleasure. She screamed her pleasure into the far reaches of the galaxy, and in a moment that might have been a minute or a century her body heaved again, another orgasm the likes of which she never even imagined when she had tortured Syril all those ages ago.
The next thing she remembered was regaining consciousness and looking up to see Dorrian holding something in his hand. The panic that gripped her was nothing like anything she ever had imagined. She would have killed Darth Vader herself to keep that cylinder away from her body. She heard Dorrian’s voice.
“Once she regains consciousness, I’ll show you what nature never intended for a ticklish woman. Show your Johns what this does to a woman, and they’ll sell their own mothers to get their hands on a woman with this serum in her.”
“Please, Dorrian, no…”
The head captain spoke up. “Ah, she’s awake! Show us this one, Dorrian. This ticklish wench is already making me hot.”
Dorrian took the cap off of the no-needle injector and stepped towards Dedra’s side.
“Dorrian! No!”
The lady pirates laughed in sadistic glee at the sight of the once-defiant woman’s response. The cylinder’s cool metal rested against Dedra’s arm, and she felt a sensation of pressure as the medicine made its way into her bloodstream.
“If you ever have a girl who’s giving your Johns trouble, a few minutes with this serum and your fingers will make sure that she’ll never even think about putting up a fight again.”
“Please, Dorrian, don’t! I’ll do anything!”
Again the lady pirates’ heads rocked back as they laughed at her.
“Will you make love to me?”
“Yes! Please!”
“Will you pleasure me with your tongue?”
“Yes!”
“It’s too bad, Diana. All I want right now is to tickle those feet again.”
“No!”
And now Dedra gained a new respect for Princess Leia: how had she just given up the name of the planet? Meero realized that she might have given up every Imperial plan she had ever known, knowing that there would even be a chance of avoiding the torture that was about to begin.
And when his fingers touched her soles, she realized that she still underestimated the serum. Her whole body writhed, and her mouth tried to let out a scream, but she could only laugh as he began to scratch at her soles. Gone was the cosmic feeling that her climaxes let her enjoy as Dorrian had tickled her before; now the only sensation that the serum and her orgasms would allow her was the laser-focused points of contact between Dorrian’s ravenous fingertips and her feet, their sensitivity amplified beyond anything that even her sexually-heightened sensitivity could inflict on her. Dorrian was right: this was something that she hadn’t ever imagined before, even in the moments before she lost consciousness, and his tickling would not let her drift that way again. Every time he touched her, every time his fingertip rubbed the soft, sensitive skin of the ball of her foot or the smooth arch of her instep, her awareness of the ticklish touch grew, and her laughter refined itself so that nothing like an orgasm intruded on the focused sensation.
Another fingertip grazed her sole, and once again her mind pulled into intense focus on that point in space, on her body. Her eyes were open, and every touch was the totality of the universe. She might have been sexually aroused or not; in the moment all she could even fathom was that spot on her foot, that touch of his fingertip, the tickling and her laughter and his eyes, devouring her again every second as he gave her the gift of her own mind stroke after stroke, poke after poke, only his hands and her feet in the whole universe.
And then it stopped. Dedra panted, her whole body emerging back into her consciousness in a blaze of sexual energy, and her eyes lost their lock on his. In fact, Dorrian was turned around, one hand behind him and the other extended where she couldn’t see it. The lady pirates, whom she could suddenly see again, were caught between voyeuristic ecstasy and self-preservation alarm and the anger of betrayal. The scene started to solidify even as her arousal kept her from focusing entirely: Dorrian had a blaster turned on the women. He was backing towards Dedra and past her, and when he was behind the chair, the footrests descended, and the wrist and ankle restraints released their grasp.
Meero’s training kicked in, and she staggered to her bare feet and side-stepped into a tactically defensible position in the room.
Now she could hear again. “Take her clothes and her underwear, and then strap Tarin into the chair. If any of you tries anything, I’ll kill you and her, and whoever is left Dedra and I are going to tickle until you have no mind, and we’ll sell you on Tatooine for Rancor fodder.” She watched as the smaller women looked at each other. At first their fear made them slow, but one by one, they started to realize that this tall man was giving them license to do something that the scene in front of them already had them fantasizing about. Within seconds they were eagerly, not reluctantly, taking Tarin’s boots, and then her tank top, and everything they could get their hands on. Dedra watched in disbelief as the woman who menaced her just moments ago became a helpless, nude object of her own crew’s lust.
They guided their naked leader to the chair and sat her down. Then he ordered the others to put cuffs on each other until one was left. Dorrian’s blaster ignited, and the last one–the one who was nearly as tall as Dorrian– collapsed to the floor. He stepped quickly to her and secured her hands with one more pair of restraints.
Then he walked deliberately over to the chair again. “Now, Tarin, Dedra is going to make sure you know there’s no trickery here. This really is torture, and she’s going to make sure you feel it.”
“Look, you can have our money. Just let me go! And who’s Dedra?”
“Sorry, love.” He gestured over his shoulder. “She really is ex-ISB. So am I. And she’s the one who developed these techniques, so you’re going to get the good stuff. Oh, and her name is Dedra Meero.”
Dedra shook her head as her vision started to clear. Was he really saying what she thought he was saying?
“I saw her getting wet, Dorrian. I know you were really getting to her.”
Dorrian shrugged, his blaster pointing lazily to the side. “Well then, maybe I just want to watch her do her work on you. I’ll tell you what: I’m going to let your girls watch this happen to you, and when your ship hits port in the Outer Rim, I’ll leave you a frequency to contact me and buy more of these supplies. I assure you, you’re going to make a bundle on them.” He looked over his shoulder. “Dedra? Are you ready?”
Meero pulled down on the silk gown that barely covered her upper thighs. She really was going to murder Dorrian as soon as he wasn’t armed. “I’m going to need a change of clothes first.”
Dorrian grinned. “Clothes later. We need to show Tarin here just how much money this can make her. So do me a favor and show her some of what you can do.” He pressed buttons on his remote, and the armrests began to raise. The captain’s tank top, already highlighting her shoulders, now exposed the side of each breast and her underarms.
Dedra resolved to enjoy this now and murder Dorrian later.
She stepped lightly, the cool floor of the ship’s quarters under her newly-soft bare feet, and took up a position behind Tarin. “Let’s keep being friendly, Tarin Wa. I’m Dedra Meero, and you’re thinking right now that you’re too tough for this to break you. Let me assure you, I’ve reduced Rebel spies to puddles in a few minutes, and if I remember my star-routes right, we have hours before we reach any ports in the Outer Rim.”
“I’m not one of your giggling virgins, you Imperial *****. I’ve killed men who crossed me.”
“Virgin has nothing to do with it, Tarin. And even a killer like me doesn’t last long when she can’t cover up. Let me show you.” Dedra took a moment, before she started to touch, and admired the body before her. The captain’s body was scarred, to be sure, but the need to fight and to intimidate had led the captain to exercise as an athlete might, and the smooth muscles under her tanned skin gave her an undeniable sex appeal.
Dedra looked up at the other pirates, each transfixed by the scene. She began to scratch her short fingernails on the sides of Tarin’s breasts, then to move the scratching outwards to the skin under her arms. Tarin tried to hold still, but even those first touches made her wriggle, her bare bottom shuffling on the seat. “I would say enjoy this, but you’re going to see before long that you don’t really choose how you respond.”
“Do you always talk this much?”
“Tired of talking? Well enough.” Meero’s fingertips had developed their own feel for a woman’s underarms, and she didn’t have to think much about where to make contact, how firmly to rub, or when to vary speeds. Her hands knew what to do, and she could focus on the woman’s responses, going for her mind while her fingertips did their own work on her body. Dedra could tell that pride was stronger than fear for this pirate captain–she saw her crew alive, tied across the room from her, and they could see her. And Dedra knew, from experience and from instinct, that Tarin the space-pirate thought that she could maintain something like dignity and keep the respect of her crew in the face of this humiliation.
That wouldn’t last long.
When the giggles started, Tarin tried to shout and curse to cover it up. Her body betrayed her quickly, and Dedra’s fingers within seconds had her laughing loudly, every touch throwing her off-balance and stealing her ability to anticipate the next. Her hands did not stay in one place, sometimes poking into her hollows, sometimes grazing the sides of Tarin’s ticklish breasts, sometimes pinching at the ticklish flesh where her underarms met her scarred, muscular back. But the touching never stopped, and only a few minutes of unstoppable, relentless tickling had Tarin gasping for breath when Dedra relented and leaned in to whisper in the pirate’s ear.
“Are you getting hot yet? Because I think you’re going to burst when we get to your legs. You noticed me getting wet earlier, no?”
Tarin panted and tried to re-create her defiance. “You go to hell.”
“No, my lovely, we’re going to take you to heaven.” She looked up at Dorrian, who was already moving awkwardly to keep his pants from rubbing him out of his enjoyment. “Dorrian, bring that pedicure robot back in here.”
Dorrian grinned and complied. Dedra began to whisper again as the doors closed on Tarin’s ankles. “What Dorrian doesn’t know is that even though the droid isn’t tickling too much, it’s still touching some of the most sensitive areas of your skin. And that gets a woman excited in its own way.” To demonstrate she let her tongue caress the side of Tarin’s neck, a touch that made her moan as the droid softened her feet. “Do you normally prefer men or women, captain?” Now she began to nibble at the captain’s earlobe. “I had a boyfriend on Coruscant, and that was fun in its own way. But one woman to another, we know each other’s bodies, don’t we?”
“I’m going to find you one of these days, and your Imperial dog isn’t going to rescue you this time.”
Dedra blew on the back of Tarin’s neck, drawing an involuntary shudder. “Ooh, you’re fantasizing about me, are you? Now I know you’re falling for me. You’re going to be my girlfriend before you know it!” Dedra reached a hand around the front of Tarin’s torso and used one fingertip to tease her nipple. The droid’s work continued, and Tarin let out another moan at the touch. “Where would you like to touch me, Tarin?”
“I’m going to tickle you out of your mind and sell you all around the Outer Rim.”
“I don’t think you’d sell me, my lovely. I think you want me all–” She stroked Tarin’s other breast with her other index finger. “To–” now the first breast. “Yourself!” Both fingers now circled around both nipples, and Tarin, unable to slap the fingers away or cover herself up, growled in frustration, her arousal on display for the women whose fear kept her alive.
The droid beeped, released Tarin’s feet, and sped away across the floor.
“Ah! Now the part I’ve really been waiting for!” Dedra moved from her position behind Tarin and stood triumphantly in front of her feet as they rose, at Dorrian’s command, to the perfect height before her. “Oh look! We’ve got the same toenail polish! You might be my girlfriend after all!”
Tarin’s legs flexed as she tried in vain to move the leg restraints. “You’re going to make me a lot of money, you Coruscant bitch.”
“Maybe when I’m done I can make some money on you, sweet thing. But let’s sample the goods first, shall we?” Dedra smiled at her own change–was she enjoying the prospects of venturing out on her own? Doing things for herself instead of the Empire? The perfumed soles in front of her, the smooth skin of the heel and the toes, was telling her body something like that. Or was that the injection’s residual effects?
No matter.
She reached one hand out to each of the newly-prepared feet in front of her and swept her fingertips along the smooth skin of the soles lightly, barely making contact. The captain whimpered as the fingers danced. “It’s really astounding, isn’t it? I don’t know what pervert programmed that droid, but your feet really do get more sensitive!” Dedra kept her touches light, teasing the captain’s toes for a moment, then scratching at her instep, sweeping along her soles, never resting in one place. “The first time I had a woman’s feet trapped like this, I was in too big a hurry to get her screaming. But now I know that a slow boil is really where the torment is. Let her think that she can fight it, and let her think that as long as her body holds out. But you know what eventually happens, Tarin?”
The captain’s eyes opened for a moment and managed one last glare as Meero’s expert fingertips tormented her newly-sensitive feet.
“Eventually what you really want overwhelms whatever delusions you have about your rebellion or your importance in the world.” The fingers kept skittering here and there on Tarin Wa’s feet, and she could feel her body’s need to laugh invading her legs, her diaphragm, her neck. She shut her eyes again, and Dedra knew that she didn’t have much time left. “That’s what this is really about, Tarin Wa. We’re going to find out what you really want when you can’t be a tough pirate pimp any more. We’re going to find the ticklish little girl in there.”
Dedra Meero couldn’t explain how she knew the exact moment to accelerate, but when it arrived, her fingers began to press harder, and Tarin let out a squeal of surprise. Then the storm started. Tarin Wa’s mouth opened, and her bare torso began to heave, and the air filled with giggles, much higher-pitched than the authoritative voice that she put on to keep her lieutenants and their pleasure-girls in line. Dedra’s fingers now moved in concert, her fingers flexing down the line from the index finger to the smallest, over and over, unleashing her fingertips on Tarin’s soles in waves. The pirate captain thrashed her head this way and that, but those restraints kept the only part of her body that mattered just where Dedra Meero, once the Empire’s most dangerous tickler, wanted them. Now the newly-minted mercenary showed a crew of lady pirates what restraint and tickling could do to their once-intimidating captain.
Dedra kept one hand moving at a frenetic pace over Tarin’s left sole, but her other hand reached behind Dedra’s back. “Hand me that feather!” Dorrian could not have been happier to do so, and Tarin’s eyes flew open in terror as she felt the blade of the feather begin to saw back and forth between her right foot’s second and third toes. Her toes began to flex and wriggle, but her feet had long since eluded her conscious control, and she could not hold still long enough to deter the feather, much less to grasp at it with unpracticed toes. The feather found another gap between toes, and Tarin shrieked at the terrible tickling strokes. Dedra–and everyone who knew where to look– saw a storm of activity brewing between her thighs. The pirate captain, having made a life intimidating and terrorizing women, could not control her arousal at the intimate touches, and her body was about to betray her in ways that everyone in the room would see.
Dedra traced the feather’s tip off the edge of Tarin’s sole, up her ankle, and along the inner edge of her calf. Her other hand dropped into a casual rhythm, tickling her left sole steadily and keeping her giggling. But Tarin’s neck craned to see what was happening as the feather made its way to her knee and along the inside of her thigh. Her hips squirmed as the feather got farther up her thighs, but she had no way to get away from its tip. The tip of the feather began to flick against her lips, and her shoulders strained, her arms pulling against the frame of the chair. There was no hope of escape, of course, and Tarin’s back arched as the feather found spots that drove her desire to levels that her mind couldn’t contain. Still Dedra’s hand tickled her left sole, and the touches, soaked in the rising flood of erotic energy, overwhelmed Tarin’s consciousness. She laughed and moaned, and when the feather dropped from Dedra’s fingers and a single digit found its way inside of Tarin, the pirate captain’s eyes rolled back. Dedra took a decisive step forward, kept one finger inside of Tarin, wriggling, and lightly stroked her breast with the other hand’s fingers. The sudden vacuum where the tickling had been left room for Tarin to inhale a gigantic breath, then let it out in a scream of sexual release. Dedra withdrew her newly-wet finger and stepped back to admire her handiwork.
From behind her Dedra heard a shriek, then a desperate giggling. Dorrian was straddling the largest pirate, the one who had menaced Dedra earlier. She was on her belly, and his hands devoured her sides, making her thrash on the floor. Now Dedra could not help but grin at her captive. “He’s got to tickle his way through your whole crew, Tarin. That means you and I have some time to burn.” She stepped around so that she was once again in front of Tarin’s feet. “I know you’re not doubting anything I say at this point, but you really have no idea how much more ticklish your feet get after an orgasm.”
“Stop… You win…”
“Dedra was now smiling broadly. “I win? What prize do I win, sweet? I know what prizes I want right now!”
“Please… I won’t hunt you…”
“Remember this moment, Tarin Wa. If you have a girl who’s giving your Johns trouble, or giving you trouble, you can have them begging in minutes.”
“Yes. I’ve learned my lesson. Now let me out.”
“No, I’m not here to teach you a lesson, Tarin. You helped that freak over there tickle me out of my mind. Now I’m going to enjoy some revenge.” Her hands reached forward to Tarin’s soles.
“NO!”
Dedra scratched at Tarin’s soles, and the pirate’s muscular torso immediately contracted, then shook in a spasm through her hips, and Dedra realized that she had always tickled younger women, and they always had clothes on. Seeing a woman closer to her own age, and observing the ways that the muscles reacted to the feet-tickling after the climax, really was making Dedra’s own libido swell in ways that even the high-spirited Princess Leia hadn’t. She watched Tarin Wa’s body as she tickled, but then a sound over her shoulder added even more stimulation to an environment that was making Dedra feel drunk: a new woman’s voice was laughing and squealing. Dedra paused for just a moment to look backwards, and she saw that the large pirate was panting on her side. Dorrian had moved to the smallest of the bunch, and he had her thrown her boots and socks across the floor. Now he held her calves in something like a headlock, and his fingertips were scrabbling over her soles, making her thrash and curse at his ticklish attention. She turned back to Tarin’s feet and redoubled her efforts on the edges of her heels, making the captain’s eyes close and her thighs pulse as she tried to contain the energy that wanted so badly to escape between her legs.
Part of Dedra’s own desire wanted to reach between the pirate’s legs and make her explode again, but the part of her that wanted to be sophisticated and cruel kept her focus on the smooth, soft skin already at her fingertips. Dedra scratched mercilessly at the bases of Tarin’s toes, skin that mere minutes before had been calloused and tough, now amplified several times over so that every touch made the spacefaring terror want nothing in the galaxy except for the next touch that would send her body over the edge again. And Dedra’s own body, feeling the room’s cool air that the silk negligee did not keep away, wanted the same. But parts of Dedra’s mind that she had never paid attention to–parts that did not belong to the Empire any more–wanted to make her beg, make this fearsome woman abject, pleading for pleasure in front of the women that had put terror into the hearts of so many girls. She kept tickling Tarin’s feet, and Tarin shrieked at the intense pleasure as her body’s capacity to contain the sensations diminished and everything in her cried out for the next moment of ecstasy at this cruel woman’s hands.
And then an explosion rocked Dedra’s own body, something that she did not anticipate at all. A large hand had begun to stroke her breast from behind, and she screamed at the touch. She threw an elbow backwards, her training resurfacing in the fog of her arousal, but an equally-well-trained forearm caught the blow, whose strength was diminished for lack of focus. The hand that had touched her at first now wrapped around her chest and moved upwards, catching both of her arms in something like a half-nelson, and she felt her body’s weight descending towards the floor, landing not on the hard spacecraft’s metal but on the muscled body of Dorrian. His arm completed its motion and trapped both of her arms behind her head, and his free hand pinched quickly and aggressively at her side.
Dedra screamed, her arousal and pleasure overwhelming her indignation at one moment, they yielding to her fiery spirit the next. She could not cover up her side, and Dorrian’s hand made her squeal as it pinched at her hip and wriggled under her ribs and clawed at her belly.
“Dorrian! Stop! I’ve still got the serum in me!”
“And you’ve climaxed, and you’re getting really hot tickling the captain here. How could I resist?” And he proceeded to do whatever he wanted, resisting nothing, his hand now making its way back to her chest and to her nipples. The serum, when he had tickled her feet before, separated the sensations of feet-tickling from her libido, but with the serum in her bloodstream, the fingertips on her breasts sent her into a spasm that might have been another orgasm or might not have been–all she knew was that her body had completely betrayed her will to fight. As the electricity coursed through her entire torso, she could only moan, then giggle when he started tickling again, then gasp as he discovered new spots that poured the explosive ticklish explosive onto the burning energy of her serum-amplified, sexually-charged skin. He was so right about the mix of sensations that she couldn’t even find occasion to hate him–her whole body was surging, moment by moment, with desire for the body that possessed her in that moment. When his hands were no longer restraining her arms, she did not fight him; instead her hands followed his forearms between her legs, and she cried out as his fingertip ignited her from within. Her eyes were closed, and her back arched into his body, and her sadism transformed entirely into surrender.
And another.
And another.
Dedra never could remember the moments between her ecstasy lying on his back and the new, unspeakable buildup that began as she felt her back on the floor and his tongue on her neck. Her body had never wanted another body this badly, and she felt her own frustration when she realized that his clothes were still on him. But his hands roamed, electrifying her with tickling touches from above, and she moaned at every touch.
Some time later–she had no sense of how long–she started to regain her bearings in the world, and she saw Dorrian holding the blaster pistol again, keeping it trained on the pirates–some still untickled and others twitching from a tickling like nothing they had ever seen before, much less felt–and backed into the corner. She picked up his words.
“At the next port Dedra and I are going to leave the ship, and then you’ll wait for us to contact you. You’ll send payment for the chair and the droid when we’ve gone, and if you don’t, we’ll find you and make you our own girls. The serum you’ll pay for in advance, and we’ll arrange a drop at a spaceport of our choosing.”
Dedra saw that the captain had her clothes on again. “You’ll get your money. And you’re never boarding this ship again.”
Dorrian smiled at her. “So long as you pay on time, we’ll only join you when you invite us.”
Dedra heard the rumble of the ship entering a planet’s atmosphere. She sat up and saw Tarin look at her.
“Are you sure you won’t sell her to us? Now that I’ve seen that, she could make us a fortune.”
“You’d be dead before you made the next port. No, I’m going to take her with me, and she’s going to help me take on some more conventional jobs. We’ll leave the Giggle Girl business to you.”
Dedra felt the ship land. Dorrian, blaster still pointed at the pirates, gestured to her clothes on the ground. “Put them on. We’re meeting up with our next employer in this port.”
Dedra and Dorrian left the ship by the boarding ramp. “Are we giving them the Imperial shuttle?”
“They’re paying for it as well. This crew is going to set us up to start our business. And I don’t think they’re going to cross us.”
They started to walk out into the busy space port. “You know I’m going to kill you when I get an opportunity, right?”
“You might think so now, but give it time. I have connections that are going to make you a very rich woman, given your skills.” Dedra nodded to the side, silently granting his point. “And when your body wants what you know your body wants now, I know and you know where you’re going to find it.”
Dedra didn’t know whether she wanted to kill him or to take his young, arrogant body for her own. She would wait and see which one pleased her more.
Part 2: https://www.ticklingforum.com/threads/soles-of-rebellion-part-2-a-star-wars-andor-story-f-f.463479/
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This is the last part of this series that I've got planned, though the ending does leave things open to further adventures. Enjoy, and remember these things:
1) Leave a comment when you've finished!
2) Then go to another writer's story and leave a comment there.
3) Have a look at my tickle novels (links in my signature)--300 pages of exclusive material each
Soles of Rebellion, a Star Wars Fanfic part 3 (m/f, f/f)
by
Kid Indy
Narkina 5 Imperial Labor Prison, 5 days ABY
For some, to lead is simply nature. The slender blonde woman at Table 44 had only been transferred to her cell block a few days before, but already she had convinced the other prisoners that following her orders would lead them to greater efficiency and thus to rewards in the Imperial prison. And she was right. Although Table 44 did not finish first every shift, they had not been in danger of finishing last since she seized control of the crew, and the woman who officially held the title Shift Leader soon enough gave way to her natural superior.
At shift’s end, the Imperial guard overseeing the floor announced that Table 44 would be getting flavored food, and the women beamed at the small honor. The blonde woman noted silently that, at least in prison, no incompetent men were stealing her credit. The women lined up at the door to be led back to their quarters to eat and to sleep, and former Imperial Security Bureau Supervisor Dedra Meero walked in front, confident that the small dignity of seasoning in the evening meal would keep her safe from prison violence.
But something suddenly went wrong. The first sign was the guard’s suddenly cupping a hand over his ear to hear his communication device better. Before Meero knew what was happening, the guard broke into a run moving forward, and pneumatic blast door slid down in front of and behind the prisoners. The woman looked at each other, wondering what was happening, and immediately Dedra could tell that they were looking for someone to blame.
A voice came on over an intercom speaker system: “An Imperial Security Detail will be on the scene shortly. Sit down with your backs to the wall, and do not move.” Everyone knew that the verbal warning was only the prelude to the real power, the electrified floors that would drop the toughest of them with a shock through their bare soles. They moved, well-trained, so that roughly a meter separated woman from woman, sat down, and waited.
The women were in the sealed-off corridor for what seemed several minutes before the pneumatic door on one end of the corridor slid open. Into the corridor marched four Storm Troopers, and a man in a white Imperial Security Bureau uniform emerged behind them. The tall man looked at the women one by one, pointed at Dedra Meero, and ordered her to stand. She did, and the door slid shut behind the six of them, leaving the women from the cell block behind.
“Restrain the prisoner’s hands.” The Storm Troopers put magnetic cuffs on Dedra’s wrists, and they continued to march towards a small Imperial Shuttle. They marched her up its boarding ramp and to a jump seat, strapped her into a safety harness without removing the cuffs, and left the shuttle to talk to the officer. Dedra heard him issuing them parting orders. “This prisoner is an intelligence asset related to the Death Star, so you will not transmit a report of this transfer for thirty days.”
“Understood, Supervisor.”
“You’ve done well, soldier.” With that the tall officer returned to the shuttle and shut the boarding ramp. Dedra heard the craft’s engines hum to life, and within seconds the shuttle lifted off and began its ascent through the planet’s atmosphere.
Dedra called out from her seat. “You’re lying about something Dorrian. What is this really about?”
Silence.
“Did they find that rebel base in the Yavin system?”
More silence.
“I’m impressed that you landed on your feet after taking me into the Death Star unauthorized.”
This time boots walked around the corner to where Dedra was seated. Supervisor Dorrian wore a smile on his face. “The prison’s administrators don’t even know that the Death Star was destroyed yet. Word is spreading, but I got you out in time.”
Dedra raised an incredulous eyebrow. “How did they manage that, Dorrian? Didn’t the ISB track down those stolen plans?”
“Lord Vader took over that operation personally. They tracked the plans down to an Outer Rim planet, but they were unable to recover them.”
“So the Princess was lying about Yavin.”
Dorrian scowled, and Dedra knew that he was hiding some kind of story.
“No matter. Is Tarkin asking for me now that Krennic’s superweapon is gone?”
“Tarkin is dead, Dedra.”
Now Dedra really was getting concerned. “Certainly Lord Vader doesn’t know about me.”
“Vader is lost at space. Tracking teams are retrieving him right now. And before you ask, Palpatine has gone underground. The Imperial Navy is regrouping to attack the Rebel base on Yavin. Nobody knows what will come of the Empire in the days to come.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
“I’m getting out of the ISB, Dedra. When Vader and Palpatine come back, all of us are likely to end up like Partagaz.”
“Where do I come into this?”
“We’re going into business, Dedra. You’re the best investigator the ISB ever had. And I’m your strongest protege. Between your mind and mine, we’re going to become the best private contractors in the Outer Rim.”
“Bounty hunters, you mean?”
“Call it what you will, Dedra. We’ll stay alive, and with any luck, we’ll make enough money with a few jobs to stay out of the Empire’s reach. Then you can go and do whatever you want.”
“If we’re going to be business partners, let me out of these restraints.”
As if on cue, the thundering bump of a smaller craft docking with a larger one shook the shuttle. “There’s one thing that I might have left out earlier.”
Dedra looked frantically from one side of the shuttle to another. “What was that?”
“Every Imperial craft with hyperspace capabilities has deep-space trackers built in. The small craft we’re in can’t jump to light speed, but it also doesn’t have a transponder with enough range to track it when it jumps. What we need to get started is someone to take us for a ride to the Outer Rim.”
The sound of footsteps began to echo up the boarding ramp. “Dorrian, what have you done?”
“I’ve saved our lives. See that you don’t do anything rash to forfeit them.”
Dedra was surprised to see six women board the shuttle. Each of them had her own style, and each one’s clothes bore the signs of combat operations. These were definitely pirates. One of them, not the tallest but one of them, ran a dark brown finger down the front of Dorrian’s chest. “Is this the girl you told us about, Dorrian? I expected someone younger.”
“My dear Tarin, this is no girl–Diana used to be one of the Imperial Security Bureau’s most decorated investigators. She’s as tough as they make them.”
“Do you still want us to get her ready for you?”
Dorrian looked at Dedra and grinned. “Absolutely. Style her as you will, and bring her back to me.”
The leader turned and looked at Dedra. “Come, my Imperial lady. It’s time to get ready for the show.” Dorrian released the cuffs, and the girls, none of whom likely could have beaten Dedra by herself but who remained dangerous in a pack, led Dedra, still barefoot, down the ramp off the shuttle and into what looked like a cargo bay. One of the smaller girls handed her something purple, and the leader nodded at her. “Take off those prison clothes and put that on.”
Dedra held up the silk nightgown with one finger and her thumb and scowled at the one Dorrian had called Tarin. “This isn’t long enough for me.”
A smirk. “For the line of work our girls are in, it’s plenty long enough.”
“I’m not putting this on.”
The leader gestured to the largest of the women, who took a long stride and stood chest to chest with Dedra. Dedra found herself looking up at a much taller and more solid woman. The leader spoke again. “Let’s be real friendly here, Diana. I’m Tarin Wa. And if you don’t put that on, we’re going to put it on you. And you’re going to like putting it on yourself a lot better.”
Dedra’s eyes narrowed. “Turn around.”
“No can do, sweet cheeks. Your boyfriend played up how dangerous you were. I don’t know if that’s just a sales pitch or not, but we’re not taking our eyes offa you. Now put it on!”
Boyfriend. Certainly he knows better than to… Still, six women, one of them a giant. Still no real chance of winning or escaping.
She started to strip off her prison jumper. Now, down to her panties and prison-work bra, she started to put an arm through the silk nightgown.
“Not yet, Diana. Off come the undies.”
Dedra paused to stare Tarin down, already fantasizing about the moment when she could be alone with her and break her neck. But she did take off her undergarments and put on the purple silk against her bare skin. After days in prison clothes, the fabric did feel luxurious. But her estimation earlier was right–the silk barely reached the bottom of her bum in the back, and she tugged at the front in the vain hope that she would stay covered when she took her first step forward. “Alright. Now can we get back to Dorrian and whatever I’m doing in these ridiculous clothes? Is this sleeping gown supposed to humiliate me and break me mentally?”
“The gown was his idea, sweetie. I have no idea what he’s got planned for you.”
The women escorted Dedra through another corridor and to a room that looked like an overpriced vacation resort room. Dorrian was waiting for them, and he seemed nothing short of delighted at seeing Dedra’s humiliation. “Welcome back, ladies! As we arranged, let me show you some possibilities for this one, and then we can negotiate terms on our deal!”
Tarin put a hand on her hip. “We could just kill you and take this one for ourselves.” Dedra felt a hand caress her silk-covered bottom, and she stepped away from her. “A blonde Coruscant lady would fetch some good money in the Outer Rim.”
Dorrian folded his arms over his chest. “You could do that, but she’d kill the first John you sold her to, and then your reputation would be shot all the way across the galaxy. But you already knew that. Do you want to strap her in so that I can show you what I really came here to demonstrate?”
Dedra stepped to the side, but the women had hands on her arms before she could get anywhere. “Strap in? Dorrian, what is this?” They forced her over to a padded metal chair. Dedra guessed by the thickness of the arms that they had some kind of servo motor in them. She struggled but did not lash out, and before long they had her forearms and ankles strapped to the armrests and to footrests, one for each ankle, that reminded Dedra of an obstetric chair’s stirrups.
Tarin grinned at the sight. “Now what? I have a hunch that she’s not going to warm up even if we feel her up.”
“Not yet, Tarin. As I said, my technique is for the reluctant girls, not for the ones who already know their jobs.”
“Dorrian, when I’m out of this chair I’m going to murder you!”
Dorrian grinned broadly at the women. “You see? A truly dangerous specimen. But I’m going to show you a suite of products that are going to take care of that. You already see my chair–now let me show you what it can do.” With the push of one button, the armrests rose, pulling Dedra’s arms upwards and exposing her underarms. She expected him to raise her feet as well–it wasn’t hard to see where this was going– but her knees remained bent and her soles centimeters off the floor.
“On Coruscant there’s an entire sub-industry for Giggle Girls. The girls don’t get injured nearly as often as conventional escorts, and the clientele get so focused that you can stay in the room with them, and they won’t take their eyes off of their best spots.”
Tarin smirked. “And you think we’re going to make money in the Outer Rim on this? We’re talking about salvage boys and gambling dens out where we’re going.”
“I’ll bet you’ve got some Johns who already want this from your girls. You get the word out that you’ve got Giggle Girls like they have in the Core, and the money will take care of itself.”
“Alright. I’ll see what you have to show me.”
“With pleasure.” He stooped down and talked in a low voice to Dedra, so that the lady pirates could hear but had to lean in. “I’ve wanted this for some time, Dedra. I’m going to enjoy this.” He took a step to the side and around the back of the chair. Dedra pulled at her restraints, but the chair was solid. Then she felt Dorrian’s fingers make contact with the skin of her underarms.
“I’m going to kill you, Dorrian! When I escape from these degenerates you’re a dead man!”
“I think you need to smile more, Dedra.” Meero felt the fingers start to press on her flesh, and she bit her lip at the sensation. Syril had tried to tickle her once, when they shared an apartment together, but the bruises that he got at the first touch curbed that impulse immediately. But Corrian, this younger, stronger man, had her completely helpless. As his fingers continued to poke and rub, she could not even cover up, much less hit or kick him. She felt a yelp start to build in her abdomen, and she tried with all of her might to suppress the urge to laugh as his fingers continued their work. “I knew it had to be true, Dedra. You know too much about how ticklish your girls get not to be ticklish yourself. You know you can’t win this. Can I get my ticklish girl to laugh for me?”
Dedra let out a scream as her body betrayed her, and then she started to laugh, her ticklish skin refusing her the dignity of resistance. She tried to growl, but Dorrian’s fingers seemed magically to transform even that noise of protest into giggling. She realized, as she heard herself making the sounds that she had drawn out of the younger women, that she never knew the term Giggle-Girls. Had he made that term up?
Dorrian pinched Dedra’s bottom rib, and Dedra squealed in spite of herself. The irony struck her as funny, and between Dorrian’s relentless tickling and her own momentary amusement her laughter got louder, fuller, freer. She glanced over Dorrian’s shoulder and saw that the women were thoroughly enjoying the sight, and as her eyes tracked past them to the wall, she somehow knew that this was not merely sadism for Dorrian; she could feel in every touch, every rub and pinch, something of the way that she used to regard Syril, the desire to dominate, something entirely erotic. And she hated him for making her the object of his own desire, even as she felt her body warming to his touch–the tickling was torture for her, and much of the torture came from the knowledge that her body would hand itself over to him in any way he wanted if he tickled much longer.
Dorrian’s tickling relented, and Dedra panted, her lungs trying desperately to slow their pace after they had been forced to laugh. The captain, visibly aroused, crossed her arms and tried to maintain a negotiator’s presence. “You said you had tech other than the chair, didn’t you?”
No–he couldn’t possibly have brought that along.
“Yes. I’ve got more to show you, and when you buy this one from me, you can make just about any girl you bring on board into prime Giggle Girl material.” He reached into a leather satchel, and Dedra gasped. What came out was not what she expected–it was some kind of remote control, but not the sort that she had used to control Imperial force-field columns. “You’re going to enjoy this one.”
Dedra heard the hum of a small-droid motor, and her eyes turned towards the floor in search of the shape of MSE-6 Mouse Droids. What wheeled into the room, with the same kind of agility, was not the sleek black maintenance droid that she saw when she was on the Death Star but a larger droid whose paneling was bright pink. It zipped across the floor, and she saw the front of the droid open up two door-like panels as it approached her. She felt a padded bumper make contact with the fronts of her ankles, still close to the floor, and her feet could feel the panels close down over them.
“What is that thing, Dorrian? Get it away from me!”
Dorrian smiled, then turned towards the women. “This machine removes the need for skilled technicians. The droid does all the work for you.”
Dedra tried to wriggle her ankles away from the droid, but they were held fast. Had he really designed a tickling machine? She grunted and struggled, but she heard the droid whir to life beyond her knees, out of her sight.
“Turn it off! Turn it off!”
Dedra’s feet got warm, and she felt the parts of the machine start to make contact with the balls of her feet, then the heels. Dorrian had already tickled her into desperate laughter, and she felt herself laughing at the machine’s touches. But then a respite: the tickling did not get nearly as intense as when Dorrian’s hands were on her body. The machine touched her toes, one by one, grasping at them but not finding the places that she feared Dorrian would if his hands had their way. She giggled, but inside a wave of relief washed over her: her feet weren’t as ticklish as the rest of her body was! The machine continued to pluck at her toes and rub her heels, and once again she giggled from the residual torture that Dorrian had already inflicted on her, but her body wasn’t losing control the way it had before. Dedra knew somewhere deep down that Dorrian was going to notice the difference and would likely return to tickling her armpits and her hips, but for now this was a good rest.
She heard the servo motors activate again, and the cool air of the room once again washed over her feet. She made a decision quickly that she wouldn’t tell Dorrian that the machine hadn’t really tickled her. The wheels squeaked on the floor again, and she saw its pink chassis retreat to the corner of the room.
“Dorrian, when I escape you won’t have anywhere in the galaxy to run. I’m going to find you, and I’m going to kill you.”
The captain spoke up again. “That really is remarkable!” She was looking down at Dedra’s feet.
Dedra growled at Dorrian. “What is she talking about?” Dorrian put the droid’s remote down and picked up the chair’s. With some more mechanical motor-sounds, Dedra’s feet raised and spread wider than her shoulders, elevating to Dorrian’s shoulder level, and she could see her own feet. What first caught her attention was the bright purple nails on each of her long toes. “What is that?”
Dorrian addressed the captain, not Meero. “That, ladies, is a deluxe Coruscant pedicure done in four minutes flat. Meero has been working barefoot in an Imperial prison for months, and her feet were showing it. But now all of those calluses are gone, and her feet are as soft and as perfumed as an Outer-Rim harem wife’s.”
Dedra let her words slip: “Wait–that wasn’t a tickling machine?”
Dorrian laughed and looked her in the eye. His ravenous look took her breath away. “No, but your responses to it tell me that you’ve got some extraordinarily ticklish feet. And now that they’ve been smoothed out and had beauty treatments, they’re going to be sensitive enough that a feather is going to be absolute torment on them.” He looked back at the lady pirates. “If only I had a feather…” And with a stage-magician’s flourish his hand did indeed produce a bright red feather, stiff and pointed at the end. Dedra, do you remember all the times that you called me incompetent when I was a young investigator? Because I do!” He twirled the feather’s blade with his finger and thumb as he approached her raised soles, and her hands gripped the armrests, bracing for the feeling.
Dorrian adjusted his grip and slashed the feather’s tip up Dedra’s sole, hitting just above the heel and lifting off before he reached the ball of her right foot. She squealed at the sudden shock–that feeling really was terrible, and it made her entire abdomen contract. Dorrian looked over his shoulder at the grinning, leering lady pirates, then turned back to Dedra. His eyes were wide, and Dedra somehow knew that he had fantasized about a moment like this every time she had cut him to pieces verbally on Corscant, in the meeting-rooms and hallways of the ISB. Now, far from the Empire’s reach, she knew that nobody was coming to her rescue. Everyone on this craft was interested not in her retrieval, her return to the service of the Empire, but to watching their “tough girl” fantasy melt as he kept tickling… and what else might he have in store?
Worries did not have time to compound; the feather returned, its tip swiping in a zig-zag down her left foot. Dedra’s face twisted into a visage of supercilious revulsion just for a moment, and then her features opened up with every stroke of the feather until her mouth was wide open, singing her laughter for her small audience, her eyes closing, as if the sight of her tormentor had anything to do with the terrible feeling of feather against pedicured, lotion-softened skin.
Dedra’s closed eyes did not see the feather drop from Dorrian’s grip, but what happened next was truly terrible. Dorrian’s fingertips descended on her soles, and Dedra let out a scream of surprise and tickled torment. Her arms pulled in panic at the restraints on the armrests, but neither her arms nor her legs was any match for the reinforced chair, and she could do nothing but let the coerced laughter erupt from her abdomen and ring out through the room. His fingers rubbed, then his fingernails scratched, then his fingertips came back, one wave of the tickling assault following another for a span of time that blurred beyond her ability to know how long he tickled her feet. Her abdomen began to ache from the laughing, but that was on the horizon of her ever-shrinking consciousness as he brought her attention again and again to the next ticklish spot on her feet that his fingers exploited and tormented. Her helpless feet unable to kick or retreat, she could feel another light growing brighter on the horizon, at first a glowing obscure glimmer of pleasure between her legs, growing as he tickled her soles into an ever-more-radiant light that spread to her thighs and to her tiring hips.
The feet-tickling continued, and Dedra felt the first pulse of pleasure shudder through her. The spasm made her abdomen’s fatigue even more pronounced, and she wondered whether the moan that escaped her lips was more pleasure, more exhaustion, or something else entirely. But even that lover’s gasp had to give way to her laughter, giving it for a moment a throaty edge but returning to the clear, ringing song that Dorrian was enjoying so much more than he ever enjoyed hearing any of Meero’s prisoners. Hearing Dedra’s laughter and feeling the soft flesh of her feet was more potent and more ecstatic than he ever imagined, and he had to concentrate to keep his own explosion at bay.
Suddenly Dedra’s eyes flew open. Dorrian was still tickling her left foot, but his hand departed her right. She wanted to threaten, to reason, to beg, but she could only keep laughing as she awaited the next touch of that hand. Dorrian leaned forward between her legs, and Dedra squealed and squirmed as he started to tickle her inner thighs, only inches away from the place that, even more than her soles, had become the center of her being. She writhed at the pinching and scratching, aware in that moment that her responses to all of the tickling before had made the silk nightgown bunch up beneath her lower back, leaving everything below her hips open for the lady pirates to see and for Dorrian to touch and torture. Now neither hand was on her feet, and Dorrian’s face was only tempting inches away from her silk-covered breasts. But his hands did not venture there; they were too busy pinching and caressing her thighs, closing Meero’s eyes again as the tickling and the pleasure magnified each other and made her voice–which she knew she was not at this point controlling–cry out between her desperate laughs.
In a moment of separation, Dedra heard her own laughing voice as if it were coming from somewhere else, and she imagined herself hovering several feet above her own ticklish body. Then Dorrian’s finger found its way to the lips between her thighs, and she could feel herself rush back into her body, moaning at the terrifying pleasure of his finger even as his other hand’s fingers kept her giggling. The finger found its way inside, and her head rocked back against the chair’s headrest. Her hips convulsed, and as her body closed around his finger again and again, she felt the waves of pleasure wash over every part of her.
Somewhere beyond the boundaries of her new universe, she heard a familiar voice, contemptuous and at the same time aroused. “You can take your pants off if you want to. You’re about to burst down there.”
She heard Dorrian’s voice again and realized that her eyes had been shut through the most intense climax that she could ever remember. “No, this is a demonstration. I’m not one of your Johns.” His voice also sounded strained, and she could tell by hearing him that he was on the verge of his own.
“And the Johns that do want Giggle Girls–are they going to want to finish like you want to right now?”
“If they do, they miss out on the pleasures that only the rarest of Tickle-Johns take in.”
A pause. “Are you going to show us?”
Dedra felt a thin trail of liquid run down her body and began to drip, and she suddenly started to long for Dorrian to be inside of her, and not merely his finger.
“Yes. Wait for just a moment. A few moments after a woman climaxes, her skin is more sensitive than any other time in her life.”
Dedra opened her eyes again. She knew that he had watched her do this to Su Jin and to Princess Leia, and the horror of going through it at his hands horrified her and thrilled her in ways that aroused her even further.
“You’re going to tickle her more?”
“As I said, even most Tickle-Johns will get impatient and finish themselves before they ever get here. But for the ones who know, they’ll pay you handsomely for this kind of ticklish victim.”
The word infuriated Dedra’s pride, but her body began to pulse at the sound of it.
“Don’t just tell us, handsome. Show us!”
Dedra felt Dorrian stand again and move to where her feet still awaited his attention. She became aware, as the seconds passed, of a new kind of horror: her whole body, despite the protests of her once-strong will, wanted his hands on her feet again. The skin of her soles was thrilling as she anticipated the return of his touch.
They did not have to wait long; Dedra’s lust splashed through her body as his fingers began again to tickle her soles. The torture and the pleasure were not separate sensations, and her laughter, in her own ears, was a song of ecstasy and release, a music that was the same substance as the glorious electric pulses that shook her entire body as Dorrian tickled her feet. She knew in that moment that she would have given up any Imperial secrets, the life of Darth Vader himself, had Dorrian asked her to. Whatever she had been in the ISB was a strange, distant abstraction next to the overwhelming ticklish blaze that burned brightest wherever Dorriann’s divine fingertips touched her.
Dedra’s mind had no center. She was everywhere, and everywhere was the tickled soles of her feet, then the scratching of Dorrian’s fingernails between her toes, then a pinch at her instep. She did not have to think about whether or not to laugh; silence was a distant and somehow unbelievable memory. All her body and her mind and her spirit knew was the laughter that reached out from every spot that he touched and the sound of her own pleasure.
When his hands left her feet, she heard her own voice call out, “YES!”
And that voice’s prayer was answered mere moments later as, this time, Dedra felt not a finger but a tongue searching its way to the core of her universe of pleasure. She screamed her pleasure into the far reaches of the galaxy, and in a moment that might have been a minute or a century her body heaved again, another orgasm the likes of which she never even imagined when she had tortured Syril all those ages ago.
The next thing she remembered was regaining consciousness and looking up to see Dorrian holding something in his hand. The panic that gripped her was nothing like anything she ever had imagined. She would have killed Darth Vader herself to keep that cylinder away from her body. She heard Dorrian’s voice.
“Once she regains consciousness, I’ll show you what nature never intended for a ticklish woman. Show your Johns what this does to a woman, and they’ll sell their own mothers to get their hands on a woman with this serum in her.”
“Please, Dorrian, no…”
The head captain spoke up. “Ah, she’s awake! Show us this one, Dorrian. This ticklish wench is already making me hot.”
Dorrian took the cap off of the no-needle injector and stepped towards Dedra’s side.
“Dorrian! No!”
The lady pirates laughed in sadistic glee at the sight of the once-defiant woman’s response. The cylinder’s cool metal rested against Dedra’s arm, and she felt a sensation of pressure as the medicine made its way into her bloodstream.
“If you ever have a girl who’s giving your Johns trouble, a few minutes with this serum and your fingers will make sure that she’ll never even think about putting up a fight again.”
“Please, Dorrian, don’t! I’ll do anything!”
Again the lady pirates’ heads rocked back as they laughed at her.
“Will you make love to me?”
“Yes! Please!”
“Will you pleasure me with your tongue?”
“Yes!”
“It’s too bad, Diana. All I want right now is to tickle those feet again.”
“No!”
And now Dedra gained a new respect for Princess Leia: how had she just given up the name of the planet? Meero realized that she might have given up every Imperial plan she had ever known, knowing that there would even be a chance of avoiding the torture that was about to begin.
And when his fingers touched her soles, she realized that she still underestimated the serum. Her whole body writhed, and her mouth tried to let out a scream, but she could only laugh as he began to scratch at her soles. Gone was the cosmic feeling that her climaxes let her enjoy as Dorrian had tickled her before; now the only sensation that the serum and her orgasms would allow her was the laser-focused points of contact between Dorrian’s ravenous fingertips and her feet, their sensitivity amplified beyond anything that even her sexually-heightened sensitivity could inflict on her. Dorrian was right: this was something that she hadn’t ever imagined before, even in the moments before she lost consciousness, and his tickling would not let her drift that way again. Every time he touched her, every time his fingertip rubbed the soft, sensitive skin of the ball of her foot or the smooth arch of her instep, her awareness of the ticklish touch grew, and her laughter refined itself so that nothing like an orgasm intruded on the focused sensation.
Another fingertip grazed her sole, and once again her mind pulled into intense focus on that point in space, on her body. Her eyes were open, and every touch was the totality of the universe. She might have been sexually aroused or not; in the moment all she could even fathom was that spot on her foot, that touch of his fingertip, the tickling and her laughter and his eyes, devouring her again every second as he gave her the gift of her own mind stroke after stroke, poke after poke, only his hands and her feet in the whole universe.
And then it stopped. Dedra panted, her whole body emerging back into her consciousness in a blaze of sexual energy, and her eyes lost their lock on his. In fact, Dorrian was turned around, one hand behind him and the other extended where she couldn’t see it. The lady pirates, whom she could suddenly see again, were caught between voyeuristic ecstasy and self-preservation alarm and the anger of betrayal. The scene started to solidify even as her arousal kept her from focusing entirely: Dorrian had a blaster turned on the women. He was backing towards Dedra and past her, and when he was behind the chair, the footrests descended, and the wrist and ankle restraints released their grasp.
Meero’s training kicked in, and she staggered to her bare feet and side-stepped into a tactically defensible position in the room.
Now she could hear again. “Take her clothes and her underwear, and then strap Tarin into the chair. If any of you tries anything, I’ll kill you and her, and whoever is left Dedra and I are going to tickle until you have no mind, and we’ll sell you on Tatooine for Rancor fodder.” She watched as the smaller women looked at each other. At first their fear made them slow, but one by one, they started to realize that this tall man was giving them license to do something that the scene in front of them already had them fantasizing about. Within seconds they were eagerly, not reluctantly, taking Tarin’s boots, and then her tank top, and everything they could get their hands on. Dedra watched in disbelief as the woman who menaced her just moments ago became a helpless, nude object of her own crew’s lust.
They guided their naked leader to the chair and sat her down. Then he ordered the others to put cuffs on each other until one was left. Dorrian’s blaster ignited, and the last one–the one who was nearly as tall as Dorrian– collapsed to the floor. He stepped quickly to her and secured her hands with one more pair of restraints.
Then he walked deliberately over to the chair again. “Now, Tarin, Dedra is going to make sure you know there’s no trickery here. This really is torture, and she’s going to make sure you feel it.”
“Look, you can have our money. Just let me go! And who’s Dedra?”
“Sorry, love.” He gestured over his shoulder. “She really is ex-ISB. So am I. And she’s the one who developed these techniques, so you’re going to get the good stuff. Oh, and her name is Dedra Meero.”
Dedra shook her head as her vision started to clear. Was he really saying what she thought he was saying?
“I saw her getting wet, Dorrian. I know you were really getting to her.”
Dorrian shrugged, his blaster pointing lazily to the side. “Well then, maybe I just want to watch her do her work on you. I’ll tell you what: I’m going to let your girls watch this happen to you, and when your ship hits port in the Outer Rim, I’ll leave you a frequency to contact me and buy more of these supplies. I assure you, you’re going to make a bundle on them.” He looked over his shoulder. “Dedra? Are you ready?”
Meero pulled down on the silk gown that barely covered her upper thighs. She really was going to murder Dorrian as soon as he wasn’t armed. “I’m going to need a change of clothes first.”
Dorrian grinned. “Clothes later. We need to show Tarin here just how much money this can make her. So do me a favor and show her some of what you can do.” He pressed buttons on his remote, and the armrests began to raise. The captain’s tank top, already highlighting her shoulders, now exposed the side of each breast and her underarms.
Dedra resolved to enjoy this now and murder Dorrian later.
She stepped lightly, the cool floor of the ship’s quarters under her newly-soft bare feet, and took up a position behind Tarin. “Let’s keep being friendly, Tarin Wa. I’m Dedra Meero, and you’re thinking right now that you’re too tough for this to break you. Let me assure you, I’ve reduced Rebel spies to puddles in a few minutes, and if I remember my star-routes right, we have hours before we reach any ports in the Outer Rim.”
“I’m not one of your giggling virgins, you Imperial *****. I’ve killed men who crossed me.”
“Virgin has nothing to do with it, Tarin. And even a killer like me doesn’t last long when she can’t cover up. Let me show you.” Dedra took a moment, before she started to touch, and admired the body before her. The captain’s body was scarred, to be sure, but the need to fight and to intimidate had led the captain to exercise as an athlete might, and the smooth muscles under her tanned skin gave her an undeniable sex appeal.
Dedra looked up at the other pirates, each transfixed by the scene. She began to scratch her short fingernails on the sides of Tarin’s breasts, then to move the scratching outwards to the skin under her arms. Tarin tried to hold still, but even those first touches made her wriggle, her bare bottom shuffling on the seat. “I would say enjoy this, but you’re going to see before long that you don’t really choose how you respond.”
“Do you always talk this much?”
“Tired of talking? Well enough.” Meero’s fingertips had developed their own feel for a woman’s underarms, and she didn’t have to think much about where to make contact, how firmly to rub, or when to vary speeds. Her hands knew what to do, and she could focus on the woman’s responses, going for her mind while her fingertips did their own work on her body. Dedra could tell that pride was stronger than fear for this pirate captain–she saw her crew alive, tied across the room from her, and they could see her. And Dedra knew, from experience and from instinct, that Tarin the space-pirate thought that she could maintain something like dignity and keep the respect of her crew in the face of this humiliation.
That wouldn’t last long.
When the giggles started, Tarin tried to shout and curse to cover it up. Her body betrayed her quickly, and Dedra’s fingers within seconds had her laughing loudly, every touch throwing her off-balance and stealing her ability to anticipate the next. Her hands did not stay in one place, sometimes poking into her hollows, sometimes grazing the sides of Tarin’s ticklish breasts, sometimes pinching at the ticklish flesh where her underarms met her scarred, muscular back. But the touching never stopped, and only a few minutes of unstoppable, relentless tickling had Tarin gasping for breath when Dedra relented and leaned in to whisper in the pirate’s ear.
“Are you getting hot yet? Because I think you’re going to burst when we get to your legs. You noticed me getting wet earlier, no?”
Tarin panted and tried to re-create her defiance. “You go to hell.”
“No, my lovely, we’re going to take you to heaven.” She looked up at Dorrian, who was already moving awkwardly to keep his pants from rubbing him out of his enjoyment. “Dorrian, bring that pedicure robot back in here.”
Dorrian grinned and complied. Dedra began to whisper again as the doors closed on Tarin’s ankles. “What Dorrian doesn’t know is that even though the droid isn’t tickling too much, it’s still touching some of the most sensitive areas of your skin. And that gets a woman excited in its own way.” To demonstrate she let her tongue caress the side of Tarin’s neck, a touch that made her moan as the droid softened her feet. “Do you normally prefer men or women, captain?” Now she began to nibble at the captain’s earlobe. “I had a boyfriend on Coruscant, and that was fun in its own way. But one woman to another, we know each other’s bodies, don’t we?”
“I’m going to find you one of these days, and your Imperial dog isn’t going to rescue you this time.”
Dedra blew on the back of Tarin’s neck, drawing an involuntary shudder. “Ooh, you’re fantasizing about me, are you? Now I know you’re falling for me. You’re going to be my girlfriend before you know it!” Dedra reached a hand around the front of Tarin’s torso and used one fingertip to tease her nipple. The droid’s work continued, and Tarin let out another moan at the touch. “Where would you like to touch me, Tarin?”
“I’m going to tickle you out of your mind and sell you all around the Outer Rim.”
“I don’t think you’d sell me, my lovely. I think you want me all–” She stroked Tarin’s other breast with her other index finger. “To–” now the first breast. “Yourself!” Both fingers now circled around both nipples, and Tarin, unable to slap the fingers away or cover herself up, growled in frustration, her arousal on display for the women whose fear kept her alive.
The droid beeped, released Tarin’s feet, and sped away across the floor.
“Ah! Now the part I’ve really been waiting for!” Dedra moved from her position behind Tarin and stood triumphantly in front of her feet as they rose, at Dorrian’s command, to the perfect height before her. “Oh look! We’ve got the same toenail polish! You might be my girlfriend after all!”
Tarin’s legs flexed as she tried in vain to move the leg restraints. “You’re going to make me a lot of money, you Coruscant bitch.”
“Maybe when I’m done I can make some money on you, sweet thing. But let’s sample the goods first, shall we?” Dedra smiled at her own change–was she enjoying the prospects of venturing out on her own? Doing things for herself instead of the Empire? The perfumed soles in front of her, the smooth skin of the heel and the toes, was telling her body something like that. Or was that the injection’s residual effects?
No matter.
She reached one hand out to each of the newly-prepared feet in front of her and swept her fingertips along the smooth skin of the soles lightly, barely making contact. The captain whimpered as the fingers danced. “It’s really astounding, isn’t it? I don’t know what pervert programmed that droid, but your feet really do get more sensitive!” Dedra kept her touches light, teasing the captain’s toes for a moment, then scratching at her instep, sweeping along her soles, never resting in one place. “The first time I had a woman’s feet trapped like this, I was in too big a hurry to get her screaming. But now I know that a slow boil is really where the torment is. Let her think that she can fight it, and let her think that as long as her body holds out. But you know what eventually happens, Tarin?”
The captain’s eyes opened for a moment and managed one last glare as Meero’s expert fingertips tormented her newly-sensitive feet.
“Eventually what you really want overwhelms whatever delusions you have about your rebellion or your importance in the world.” The fingers kept skittering here and there on Tarin Wa’s feet, and she could feel her body’s need to laugh invading her legs, her diaphragm, her neck. She shut her eyes again, and Dedra knew that she didn’t have much time left. “That’s what this is really about, Tarin Wa. We’re going to find out what you really want when you can’t be a tough pirate pimp any more. We’re going to find the ticklish little girl in there.”
Dedra Meero couldn’t explain how she knew the exact moment to accelerate, but when it arrived, her fingers began to press harder, and Tarin let out a squeal of surprise. Then the storm started. Tarin Wa’s mouth opened, and her bare torso began to heave, and the air filled with giggles, much higher-pitched than the authoritative voice that she put on to keep her lieutenants and their pleasure-girls in line. Dedra’s fingers now moved in concert, her fingers flexing down the line from the index finger to the smallest, over and over, unleashing her fingertips on Tarin’s soles in waves. The pirate captain thrashed her head this way and that, but those restraints kept the only part of her body that mattered just where Dedra Meero, once the Empire’s most dangerous tickler, wanted them. Now the newly-minted mercenary showed a crew of lady pirates what restraint and tickling could do to their once-intimidating captain.
Dedra kept one hand moving at a frenetic pace over Tarin’s left sole, but her other hand reached behind Dedra’s back. “Hand me that feather!” Dorrian could not have been happier to do so, and Tarin’s eyes flew open in terror as she felt the blade of the feather begin to saw back and forth between her right foot’s second and third toes. Her toes began to flex and wriggle, but her feet had long since eluded her conscious control, and she could not hold still long enough to deter the feather, much less to grasp at it with unpracticed toes. The feather found another gap between toes, and Tarin shrieked at the terrible tickling strokes. Dedra–and everyone who knew where to look– saw a storm of activity brewing between her thighs. The pirate captain, having made a life intimidating and terrorizing women, could not control her arousal at the intimate touches, and her body was about to betray her in ways that everyone in the room would see.
Dedra traced the feather’s tip off the edge of Tarin’s sole, up her ankle, and along the inner edge of her calf. Her other hand dropped into a casual rhythm, tickling her left sole steadily and keeping her giggling. But Tarin’s neck craned to see what was happening as the feather made its way to her knee and along the inside of her thigh. Her hips squirmed as the feather got farther up her thighs, but she had no way to get away from its tip. The tip of the feather began to flick against her lips, and her shoulders strained, her arms pulling against the frame of the chair. There was no hope of escape, of course, and Tarin’s back arched as the feather found spots that drove her desire to levels that her mind couldn’t contain. Still Dedra’s hand tickled her left sole, and the touches, soaked in the rising flood of erotic energy, overwhelmed Tarin’s consciousness. She laughed and moaned, and when the feather dropped from Dedra’s fingers and a single digit found its way inside of Tarin, the pirate captain’s eyes rolled back. Dedra took a decisive step forward, kept one finger inside of Tarin, wriggling, and lightly stroked her breast with the other hand’s fingers. The sudden vacuum where the tickling had been left room for Tarin to inhale a gigantic breath, then let it out in a scream of sexual release. Dedra withdrew her newly-wet finger and stepped back to admire her handiwork.
From behind her Dedra heard a shriek, then a desperate giggling. Dorrian was straddling the largest pirate, the one who had menaced Dedra earlier. She was on her belly, and his hands devoured her sides, making her thrash on the floor. Now Dedra could not help but grin at her captive. “He’s got to tickle his way through your whole crew, Tarin. That means you and I have some time to burn.” She stepped around so that she was once again in front of Tarin’s feet. “I know you’re not doubting anything I say at this point, but you really have no idea how much more ticklish your feet get after an orgasm.”
“Stop… You win…”
“Dedra was now smiling broadly. “I win? What prize do I win, sweet? I know what prizes I want right now!”
“Please… I won’t hunt you…”
“Remember this moment, Tarin Wa. If you have a girl who’s giving your Johns trouble, or giving you trouble, you can have them begging in minutes.”
“Yes. I’ve learned my lesson. Now let me out.”
“No, I’m not here to teach you a lesson, Tarin. You helped that freak over there tickle me out of my mind. Now I’m going to enjoy some revenge.” Her hands reached forward to Tarin’s soles.
“NO!”
Dedra scratched at Tarin’s soles, and the pirate’s muscular torso immediately contracted, then shook in a spasm through her hips, and Dedra realized that she had always tickled younger women, and they always had clothes on. Seeing a woman closer to her own age, and observing the ways that the muscles reacted to the feet-tickling after the climax, really was making Dedra’s own libido swell in ways that even the high-spirited Princess Leia hadn’t. She watched Tarin Wa’s body as she tickled, but then a sound over her shoulder added even more stimulation to an environment that was making Dedra feel drunk: a new woman’s voice was laughing and squealing. Dedra paused for just a moment to look backwards, and she saw that the large pirate was panting on her side. Dorrian had moved to the smallest of the bunch, and he had her thrown her boots and socks across the floor. Now he held her calves in something like a headlock, and his fingertips were scrabbling over her soles, making her thrash and curse at his ticklish attention. She turned back to Tarin’s feet and redoubled her efforts on the edges of her heels, making the captain’s eyes close and her thighs pulse as she tried to contain the energy that wanted so badly to escape between her legs.
Part of Dedra’s own desire wanted to reach between the pirate’s legs and make her explode again, but the part of her that wanted to be sophisticated and cruel kept her focus on the smooth, soft skin already at her fingertips. Dedra scratched mercilessly at the bases of Tarin’s toes, skin that mere minutes before had been calloused and tough, now amplified several times over so that every touch made the spacefaring terror want nothing in the galaxy except for the next touch that would send her body over the edge again. And Dedra’s own body, feeling the room’s cool air that the silk negligee did not keep away, wanted the same. But parts of Dedra’s mind that she had never paid attention to–parts that did not belong to the Empire any more–wanted to make her beg, make this fearsome woman abject, pleading for pleasure in front of the women that had put terror into the hearts of so many girls. She kept tickling Tarin’s feet, and Tarin shrieked at the intense pleasure as her body’s capacity to contain the sensations diminished and everything in her cried out for the next moment of ecstasy at this cruel woman’s hands.
And then an explosion rocked Dedra’s own body, something that she did not anticipate at all. A large hand had begun to stroke her breast from behind, and she screamed at the touch. She threw an elbow backwards, her training resurfacing in the fog of her arousal, but an equally-well-trained forearm caught the blow, whose strength was diminished for lack of focus. The hand that had touched her at first now wrapped around her chest and moved upwards, catching both of her arms in something like a half-nelson, and she felt her body’s weight descending towards the floor, landing not on the hard spacecraft’s metal but on the muscled body of Dorrian. His arm completed its motion and trapped both of her arms behind her head, and his free hand pinched quickly and aggressively at her side.
Dedra screamed, her arousal and pleasure overwhelming her indignation at one moment, they yielding to her fiery spirit the next. She could not cover up her side, and Dorrian’s hand made her squeal as it pinched at her hip and wriggled under her ribs and clawed at her belly.
“Dorrian! Stop! I’ve still got the serum in me!”
“And you’ve climaxed, and you’re getting really hot tickling the captain here. How could I resist?” And he proceeded to do whatever he wanted, resisting nothing, his hand now making its way back to her chest and to her nipples. The serum, when he had tickled her feet before, separated the sensations of feet-tickling from her libido, but with the serum in her bloodstream, the fingertips on her breasts sent her into a spasm that might have been another orgasm or might not have been–all she knew was that her body had completely betrayed her will to fight. As the electricity coursed through her entire torso, she could only moan, then giggle when he started tickling again, then gasp as he discovered new spots that poured the explosive ticklish explosive onto the burning energy of her serum-amplified, sexually-charged skin. He was so right about the mix of sensations that she couldn’t even find occasion to hate him–her whole body was surging, moment by moment, with desire for the body that possessed her in that moment. When his hands were no longer restraining her arms, she did not fight him; instead her hands followed his forearms between her legs, and she cried out as his fingertip ignited her from within. Her eyes were closed, and her back arched into his body, and her sadism transformed entirely into surrender.
And another.
And another.
Dedra never could remember the moments between her ecstasy lying on his back and the new, unspeakable buildup that began as she felt her back on the floor and his tongue on her neck. Her body had never wanted another body this badly, and she felt her own frustration when she realized that his clothes were still on him. But his hands roamed, electrifying her with tickling touches from above, and she moaned at every touch.
Some time later–she had no sense of how long–she started to regain her bearings in the world, and she saw Dorrian holding the blaster pistol again, keeping it trained on the pirates–some still untickled and others twitching from a tickling like nothing they had ever seen before, much less felt–and backed into the corner. She picked up his words.
“At the next port Dedra and I are going to leave the ship, and then you’ll wait for us to contact you. You’ll send payment for the chair and the droid when we’ve gone, and if you don’t, we’ll find you and make you our own girls. The serum you’ll pay for in advance, and we’ll arrange a drop at a spaceport of our choosing.”
Dedra saw that the captain had her clothes on again. “You’ll get your money. And you’re never boarding this ship again.”
Dorrian smiled at her. “So long as you pay on time, we’ll only join you when you invite us.”
Dedra heard the rumble of the ship entering a planet’s atmosphere. She sat up and saw Tarin look at her.
“Are you sure you won’t sell her to us? Now that I’ve seen that, she could make us a fortune.”
“You’d be dead before you made the next port. No, I’m going to take her with me, and she’s going to help me take on some more conventional jobs. We’ll leave the Giggle Girl business to you.”
Dedra felt the ship land. Dorrian, blaster still pointed at the pirates, gestured to her clothes on the ground. “Put them on. We’re meeting up with our next employer in this port.”
Dedra and Dorrian left the ship by the boarding ramp. “Are we giving them the Imperial shuttle?”
“They’re paying for it as well. This crew is going to set us up to start our business. And I don’t think they’re going to cross us.”
They started to walk out into the busy space port. “You know I’m going to kill you when I get an opportunity, right?”
“You might think so now, but give it time. I have connections that are going to make you a very rich woman, given your skills.” Dedra nodded to the side, silently granting his point. “And when your body wants what you know your body wants now, I know and you know where you’re going to find it.”
Dedra didn’t know whether she wanted to kill him or to take his young, arrogant body for her own. She would wait and see which one pleased her more.
