tarr2k1
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Dec 30, 2002
- Messages
- 257
- Points
- 0
Prologue
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Mara Jade’s eyes fluttered open, and she was not happy with what she saw. She was floating in the center of a large spherical room, and she’d been stripped. What the hell had happened?!
The Emperor... that was it. The Emperor died, and she’d felt it through the Force, and she lost consciousness. But why was she here? “Morning Mara,” came a voice over the comm.
Oh great, Mara thought. Ysanne Isard, the woman who ran the ISB, and one of the few who actually knew that Mara was more than just one of the Emperor’s flunkies, but was a skilled agent and assassin. The two never got along, but it hadn’t mattered because Mara answered to the Emperor himself, so Isard could never touch her. With him gone... Mara was so screwed. “Morning, Iceheart,” she said, using her despised nickname. Mara tugged at the bonds that had been wrapped around her wrists and ankles, but it was hopeless. They were electronically locked, made of duranium, and attached to cables that snaked away towards four different points around the room. She had an inkling of what she was in for, and Isard was going to be ruthless no matter what she said or did.
“My people found you and thought it prudent that we look after you,” Isard explained. “It would be a shame if something happened to you before you had the chance to tell me everything you know about what’s happened.”
“A real shame,” Mara said. Isard you silly bitch, she thought, why do you play these games? You’re not an evil mastermind, just some spoiled brat who lucked into a position of authority..
“I wasn’t too certain you would be forthcoming to a simple debriefing-“
“Seems you opted for it anyway,” Mara commented, looking at her naked form.
“You think you’re funny, but you’re not,” Isard said.
“Maybe you just don’t have a sense of humor,” Mara said.
“Oh, I do,” Isard said. She was quiet for a while. “I think I’ll prove it to you. I can be quite amusing sometimes.”
“I’m ready, throw your best knock-knock joke at me,” Mara said.
“I had an interrogation scheduled,” Isard pushed on. “I think I’ll change the nature of it, in keeping with this subject. I assure you you’ll be laughing your head off.” The cables suddenly went taut, and Mara’s limb’s were stretched out, leaving her spread-eagle in the middle of the air. “Tell me, Mara, are you... ticklish?”
Mara blinked. “What?”
“Ticklish. You know, as in ‘cootchie cootchie coo?’”
“Is that your big plan?” Mara asked. “I’ve got to say, I thought even you wouldn’t reduce yourself to something that amazingly stupid. Thank you for proving to me that my low standards clearly aren’t low enough.”
“Oh Mara,” Isard said. “You make this so easy. This arrogant girl who fucked her way into what little power she had-“
“I did nothing of the kind!” Mara said with anger.
“Oh please; why do you think we all called you ‘the Emperor’s hand.’” Mara bristled. “I always like seeing people like you getting knocked down to where they belong. The sight of you, writhing like a little girl, will bring me and my colleagues no end of amusement.”
“Please,” Mara said with contempt. “I’m a grown woman.”
“A grown woman whose neurochemistry scans indicates is extremely ticklish,” Isard said. “But if you don’t agree with medical science, well, then I guess you’ve got nothing to worry about, right?”
A red beam emerged across the room in front of Mara, shifted back and forth, then slowly ran up onto her body, stopped over her belly-button. There was a pulse and the red beam turned pink, and Mara gasped. Tickling was something she really only knew about in an abstract sense; if she’d ever been tickled, it was so long ago she didn’t remember it. But clearly, despite what she’d thought, it wasn’t something that was grown out of, or at least, something that she’d grown out of. She ground her teeth together and screwed her eyes shut, the sensation demanding her total will to resist.
“What’s wrong, Mara?” Isard asked. “Does it... tickle?”
There was a hum and the beam pulsed, and the air emptied from Mara’s lungs. “NO!” she managed to get out, but it quickly was followed by laughter, deep laughter.
“I think it does,” Isard mused while Mara laughed. “And we’ve barely started. This should be loads of fun. Of course, you could just beg me... if you’re convincing, I might spare you this humiliation.”
Mara laughed but inside she was panicking. If this was just a taste, she’d never endure what was going to come. But begging Isard would accomplish nothing. The woman was a sadist; she’d torture Mara anyway. There was no sense in giving her the satisfaction.
“Very well,” Isard said eventually, and a second red beam appeared, snaking up Mara’s torso. Mara watched it while she chuckled, fear gripping her. It finally stopped over the nipple of her left breast, then the beam turned pink. Mara’s laughter intensified, then again as another beam found a similar target on her right breast. “Oh yes... this is going to be so much fun.”
Mara shook with laughter, but out of the corner of her eye she saw another light come on and settle into her left armpit. It turned pink, and she roared. “NO! DON’T! WAHAHAHAHA!!!”
“Oo, sensitive underarms, eh?” Isard asked. “Well, we’ll have to explore that.”
More lights came on, shining onto both or Mara’s armpits. They began slowly snaking around and Mara writhed in ticklish agony. “PLEASE! HAHAHA! TURN IT OFF! TURN IT AW-HAHAHAHAHA...”
“Cootchie cootchie coo, Mara,” Isard said. “You’re ticklish, aren’t you?”
“Yes!” Mara wailed. “Turn it off!”
“You’re a ticklish little girl,” Isard said. “Say it.”
“I’m ticklish,” Mara admitted, shaking with laughter.
“That’s not what I said, Mara,” Isard said, and the beams pulsed and Mara screamed with laughter.
“I’M A TICKLISH LITTLE GIRL!” Mara cried.
“Now that’s better,” Isard said, and the tickling became slightly less intense. “I’m not a monster, Mara,” she said, even as Mara writhed in ticklish agony. “I just need you to stop fighting me on this.”
“Hahahaha I will!” Mara promised. She couldn’t stand any more!
“That’s good to hear,” Isard said. “Who’s in control?”
“You- hahahaha you are!”
“That’s right... and what are you again?”
“I’m a-ha ha ha ticklish little g-girl,” Mara managed to get out.
“Now,” Isard said, “tell me exactly what happened to the Emperor.”
“Please stop it!” Mara pleaded. “Please!”
“I asked you a question,” Isard said irritably. “Did you forget who was in control?”
Mara saw lights coming on around the room. “Oh no! No please, no! Do-WO-HOHOHOHOHAHAHAHA!!!!” The pink lights shined all over her body, on her feet on her butt, on the back of her knees, on her ribs, on her back. Mara screamed with laughter. Her body struggled feebly, the tickling sapping her strength. Her world shrank, to become nothing but the core of who she was, which was trapped at the center of a vortex of laughing madness. This tickling was worse than anything she could have imagined, and it was merciless, and omnipresent, and sadistic. It slipped into places and chipped away at her sanity. “STOP IT! BWAHAHAHAHA!!!”
“Never doubt medical science, Mara,” Isard commented.
Now Isard began to just play with her. The intensity of the beams shifted, so that Mara’s attention was drawn to parts of her body. The tickling everywhere diminished to the tactile equivalent of background noise, except on her feet, which grew much worse. The pink beams slid across her soles, along the instep and up the heel, then swirling and coming back down again, only to crawl back up the ball. Mara’s laughter became shrieks at the sensation. There were three or four of them working each sole; it was hard to be more exact because her feet were being completely overwhelmed. She squeezed her fists but it accomplished nothing, the slow movement was inescapable.
Eventually the feet fell into the background while her ribs took center stage. There were several beams, each aside to their own rib. The beams slid slowly back and forth, first towards the center of her body, then back out towards the side. Each time the beam pulsed, becoming more and more intense, until Mara couldn’t laugh any more, because it was almost impossible to breathe. In... then out... then in... over and over on that helpless ribcage.
The ribs slipped into the background finally, and Isard decided to take a more perverse turn. Mara felt a beam crawl along her butt into her crack, then draw down into onto her anus itself. She screamed as the pulse hit, again and again. It tickled like crazy, and what was worse was it was like getting sodomized by a feather duster! Mara tried in vain to shift it away from its target, but there wasn’t even the slightest give for her to do so. While her asshole was worked over, beams explored her curved cheeks until Mara’s laughter took on a staccato quality.
Mara’s tummy was next, and this was another brutal spot for her. The pink lights slid across her abs, and her belly quivered like the skin of a drum under it. “NO MORE! Mara begged. “PLE-HEHEHEHE HAHAHAHA!!!” But Isard wasn’t called “Iceheart” for nothing, and her belly was subjected to more of the pulses as the tickling increased. “NO-NO! NO-HOHOHOHOHO!!!” At the same time, her navel was teased terribly, so that it was like something was digging around inside with thousands of tickly legs. “GET AWAY! WA-HAHAHAHA!”
“You know,” Isard said, “you are truly entertaining like this.” Mara was shrieking in ticklish angst. “I should sell tickets, maybe even broadcast this on the holonet and charge people; you’re quite an amusing toy, Mara.”
Mara’s back was next. They started just above her butt, slowly drawing up until Mara’s eyes were squeezed tighter than an airlock. They hit a spot on the spine, another on her shoulder blade, and still another around the kidney area that sucked the air right out of her lungs. In front, her nipples had grown erect under the stimulation, and the beams pulses were murder. “No no no no no no no NO!” she cried before descending into another laughing fit.
But then something surprising happened. Whether it was being stimulated on an erogenous zone, or whether it was an unintended side effect, pleasure began to build inside Mara. She still laughed uncontrollably, but she started to get more and more aroused. The sensations on her breasts and butt became exquisite, and she actually let out a moan or two despite the laughter. She didn’t come, but despite Isard’s grilling Mara found the tickling becoming more and more pleasurable... almost erotic. As the lights played across her skin, she happily held her head back and let the laughter pour out of her.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Ms. Danoob examined the readings. Good. Fortunately the Empire’s brutality allowed proper context for the memories to be accepted. Mara was obviously the most dangerous of the quartet; her assassin skills, experience with disguise, and limited Force abilities could possibly lead to problems. Of course, those skills were the very reason she’d been targeted in the first place. Ms. Danoob carefully noted the information while she mulled it over. Yes, Mara should definitely be one of the first. If the procedure worked with her, it would almost certainly work with anyone. She entered some commands into her computer, instructing it to schedule her for tomorrow. “No more dreams, ladies,” she said to the sleeping women. “Tomorrow the real thing begins.”
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Mara Jade’s eyes fluttered open, and she was not happy with what she saw. She was floating in the center of a large spherical room, and she’d been stripped. What the hell had happened?!
The Emperor... that was it. The Emperor died, and she’d felt it through the Force, and she lost consciousness. But why was she here? “Morning Mara,” came a voice over the comm.
Oh great, Mara thought. Ysanne Isard, the woman who ran the ISB, and one of the few who actually knew that Mara was more than just one of the Emperor’s flunkies, but was a skilled agent and assassin. The two never got along, but it hadn’t mattered because Mara answered to the Emperor himself, so Isard could never touch her. With him gone... Mara was so screwed. “Morning, Iceheart,” she said, using her despised nickname. Mara tugged at the bonds that had been wrapped around her wrists and ankles, but it was hopeless. They were electronically locked, made of duranium, and attached to cables that snaked away towards four different points around the room. She had an inkling of what she was in for, and Isard was going to be ruthless no matter what she said or did.
“My people found you and thought it prudent that we look after you,” Isard explained. “It would be a shame if something happened to you before you had the chance to tell me everything you know about what’s happened.”
“A real shame,” Mara said. Isard you silly bitch, she thought, why do you play these games? You’re not an evil mastermind, just some spoiled brat who lucked into a position of authority..
“I wasn’t too certain you would be forthcoming to a simple debriefing-“
“Seems you opted for it anyway,” Mara commented, looking at her naked form.
“You think you’re funny, but you’re not,” Isard said.
“Maybe you just don’t have a sense of humor,” Mara said.
“Oh, I do,” Isard said. She was quiet for a while. “I think I’ll prove it to you. I can be quite amusing sometimes.”
“I’m ready, throw your best knock-knock joke at me,” Mara said.
“I had an interrogation scheduled,” Isard pushed on. “I think I’ll change the nature of it, in keeping with this subject. I assure you you’ll be laughing your head off.” The cables suddenly went taut, and Mara’s limb’s were stretched out, leaving her spread-eagle in the middle of the air. “Tell me, Mara, are you... ticklish?”
Mara blinked. “What?”
“Ticklish. You know, as in ‘cootchie cootchie coo?’”
“Is that your big plan?” Mara asked. “I’ve got to say, I thought even you wouldn’t reduce yourself to something that amazingly stupid. Thank you for proving to me that my low standards clearly aren’t low enough.”
“Oh Mara,” Isard said. “You make this so easy. This arrogant girl who fucked her way into what little power she had-“
“I did nothing of the kind!” Mara said with anger.
“Oh please; why do you think we all called you ‘the Emperor’s hand.’” Mara bristled. “I always like seeing people like you getting knocked down to where they belong. The sight of you, writhing like a little girl, will bring me and my colleagues no end of amusement.”
“Please,” Mara said with contempt. “I’m a grown woman.”
“A grown woman whose neurochemistry scans indicates is extremely ticklish,” Isard said. “But if you don’t agree with medical science, well, then I guess you’ve got nothing to worry about, right?”
A red beam emerged across the room in front of Mara, shifted back and forth, then slowly ran up onto her body, stopped over her belly-button. There was a pulse and the red beam turned pink, and Mara gasped. Tickling was something she really only knew about in an abstract sense; if she’d ever been tickled, it was so long ago she didn’t remember it. But clearly, despite what she’d thought, it wasn’t something that was grown out of, or at least, something that she’d grown out of. She ground her teeth together and screwed her eyes shut, the sensation demanding her total will to resist.
“What’s wrong, Mara?” Isard asked. “Does it... tickle?”
There was a hum and the beam pulsed, and the air emptied from Mara’s lungs. “NO!” she managed to get out, but it quickly was followed by laughter, deep laughter.
“I think it does,” Isard mused while Mara laughed. “And we’ve barely started. This should be loads of fun. Of course, you could just beg me... if you’re convincing, I might spare you this humiliation.”
Mara laughed but inside she was panicking. If this was just a taste, she’d never endure what was going to come. But begging Isard would accomplish nothing. The woman was a sadist; she’d torture Mara anyway. There was no sense in giving her the satisfaction.
“Very well,” Isard said eventually, and a second red beam appeared, snaking up Mara’s torso. Mara watched it while she chuckled, fear gripping her. It finally stopped over the nipple of her left breast, then the beam turned pink. Mara’s laughter intensified, then again as another beam found a similar target on her right breast. “Oh yes... this is going to be so much fun.”
Mara shook with laughter, but out of the corner of her eye she saw another light come on and settle into her left armpit. It turned pink, and she roared. “NO! DON’T! WAHAHAHAHA!!!”
“Oo, sensitive underarms, eh?” Isard asked. “Well, we’ll have to explore that.”
More lights came on, shining onto both or Mara’s armpits. They began slowly snaking around and Mara writhed in ticklish agony. “PLEASE! HAHAHA! TURN IT OFF! TURN IT AW-HAHAHAHAHA...”
“Cootchie cootchie coo, Mara,” Isard said. “You’re ticklish, aren’t you?”
“Yes!” Mara wailed. “Turn it off!”
“You’re a ticklish little girl,” Isard said. “Say it.”
“I’m ticklish,” Mara admitted, shaking with laughter.
“That’s not what I said, Mara,” Isard said, and the beams pulsed and Mara screamed with laughter.
“I’M A TICKLISH LITTLE GIRL!” Mara cried.
“Now that’s better,” Isard said, and the tickling became slightly less intense. “I’m not a monster, Mara,” she said, even as Mara writhed in ticklish agony. “I just need you to stop fighting me on this.”
“Hahahaha I will!” Mara promised. She couldn’t stand any more!
“That’s good to hear,” Isard said. “Who’s in control?”
“You- hahahaha you are!”
“That’s right... and what are you again?”
“I’m a-ha ha ha ticklish little g-girl,” Mara managed to get out.
“Now,” Isard said, “tell me exactly what happened to the Emperor.”
“Please stop it!” Mara pleaded. “Please!”
“I asked you a question,” Isard said irritably. “Did you forget who was in control?”
Mara saw lights coming on around the room. “Oh no! No please, no! Do-WO-HOHOHOHOHAHAHAHA!!!!” The pink lights shined all over her body, on her feet on her butt, on the back of her knees, on her ribs, on her back. Mara screamed with laughter. Her body struggled feebly, the tickling sapping her strength. Her world shrank, to become nothing but the core of who she was, which was trapped at the center of a vortex of laughing madness. This tickling was worse than anything she could have imagined, and it was merciless, and omnipresent, and sadistic. It slipped into places and chipped away at her sanity. “STOP IT! BWAHAHAHAHA!!!”
“Never doubt medical science, Mara,” Isard commented.
Now Isard began to just play with her. The intensity of the beams shifted, so that Mara’s attention was drawn to parts of her body. The tickling everywhere diminished to the tactile equivalent of background noise, except on her feet, which grew much worse. The pink beams slid across her soles, along the instep and up the heel, then swirling and coming back down again, only to crawl back up the ball. Mara’s laughter became shrieks at the sensation. There were three or four of them working each sole; it was hard to be more exact because her feet were being completely overwhelmed. She squeezed her fists but it accomplished nothing, the slow movement was inescapable.
Eventually the feet fell into the background while her ribs took center stage. There were several beams, each aside to their own rib. The beams slid slowly back and forth, first towards the center of her body, then back out towards the side. Each time the beam pulsed, becoming more and more intense, until Mara couldn’t laugh any more, because it was almost impossible to breathe. In... then out... then in... over and over on that helpless ribcage.
The ribs slipped into the background finally, and Isard decided to take a more perverse turn. Mara felt a beam crawl along her butt into her crack, then draw down into onto her anus itself. She screamed as the pulse hit, again and again. It tickled like crazy, and what was worse was it was like getting sodomized by a feather duster! Mara tried in vain to shift it away from its target, but there wasn’t even the slightest give for her to do so. While her asshole was worked over, beams explored her curved cheeks until Mara’s laughter took on a staccato quality.
Mara’s tummy was next, and this was another brutal spot for her. The pink lights slid across her abs, and her belly quivered like the skin of a drum under it. “NO MORE! Mara begged. “PLE-HEHEHEHE HAHAHAHA!!!” But Isard wasn’t called “Iceheart” for nothing, and her belly was subjected to more of the pulses as the tickling increased. “NO-NO! NO-HOHOHOHOHO!!!” At the same time, her navel was teased terribly, so that it was like something was digging around inside with thousands of tickly legs. “GET AWAY! WA-HAHAHAHA!”
“You know,” Isard said, “you are truly entertaining like this.” Mara was shrieking in ticklish angst. “I should sell tickets, maybe even broadcast this on the holonet and charge people; you’re quite an amusing toy, Mara.”
Mara’s back was next. They started just above her butt, slowly drawing up until Mara’s eyes were squeezed tighter than an airlock. They hit a spot on the spine, another on her shoulder blade, and still another around the kidney area that sucked the air right out of her lungs. In front, her nipples had grown erect under the stimulation, and the beams pulses were murder. “No no no no no no no NO!” she cried before descending into another laughing fit.
But then something surprising happened. Whether it was being stimulated on an erogenous zone, or whether it was an unintended side effect, pleasure began to build inside Mara. She still laughed uncontrollably, but she started to get more and more aroused. The sensations on her breasts and butt became exquisite, and she actually let out a moan or two despite the laughter. She didn’t come, but despite Isard’s grilling Mara found the tickling becoming more and more pleasurable... almost erotic. As the lights played across her skin, she happily held her head back and let the laughter pour out of her.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Ms. Danoob examined the readings. Good. Fortunately the Empire’s brutality allowed proper context for the memories to be accepted. Mara was obviously the most dangerous of the quartet; her assassin skills, experience with disguise, and limited Force abilities could possibly lead to problems. Of course, those skills were the very reason she’d been targeted in the first place. Ms. Danoob carefully noted the information while she mulled it over. Yes, Mara should definitely be one of the first. If the procedure worked with her, it would almost certainly work with anyone. She entered some commands into her computer, instructing it to schedule her for tomorrow. “No more dreams, ladies,” she said to the sleeping women. “Tomorrow the real thing begins.”
