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Crossroads Facility, Part 40 (FF/F)

tarr2k1

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Part 40

Mara opened her eyes; there was a hole where a person should be.

Mara rolled over and looked at the bare spot. It was the first morning after sleeping in the newly-remodeled quarters, and they were quite splendid in Mara's opinion. Lara had taken the point on the interior design and both rooms were elegant, yet practical. Mara was lying on her new king-size poster bed. It wasn't surprising that she was curled up on one edge of it.

There was a hole where a person should be.

I'm coming, Seven, she promised. I swear not a day goes by I don't miss you more. You're going to come back. She touched the unused pillow softly and fought to keep control. I promise.
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Seven said nothing, but that was only because she was gagged. If not, more than the muffled echoing sounds would have filled the room, no doubt drowning out the words whispered in her ear, and that couldn't be allowed. She wasn't here to speak, she was here to listen.

Seven's senses had been enhanced, yet her head swam. Some kind of strange drug concoction, something even her Borg physiology couldn't counter. Had it been tailored specifically to her, or was it just so potent that nothing could resist? It didn't matter, and Seven couldn't think well enough to do more than momentarily speculate and then lose the thought like a leaf torn from a branch in an autumn storm.

It was a surprising juxtaposition that they had in mind for her. She'd been locked into a dynamic restraint so that while Seven had no movement they wouldn't allow, they had free access to any part of her body. "They" of course being her captors, but more directly it was those of the computer that examined her reactions and adjusted accordingly. It spoke the words, it flashed the messages, it was the one who touched her. Seven was entirely under the control of a machine once again, but instead of being mobile and part of the system, she was restrained yet completely independent. She had no strength to call on but her own, no hope to overcome except with what she could muster. If she fell, there was no one to catch her. It was the worst of both worlds.

Her breasts were being tickled again; no real surprise there, of course. But what was unexpected was that at the same time that the tickly touches ran across her fleshy curves, her nipples were being delicately, pleasurably, rubbed. Likewise while a feather lightly tickled her clitoris, at the same time she felt the wonderful sensation of intimacy. Her feet were both having the toes spread out, and each spot tickled with ruthless precision - and yet, the most wonderful foot massage was happening inches away. Hand-like manipulators sensually rubbed her back while equally effective ones tickled her front. Even while they tickled her rear end, there was a pleasant vibrating sensation inside.

The thing of it was that the tickling and the pleasure were so overlapping that they mixed together into the most wonderful alloy she could have imagined. With her senses enhanced by the drugs, it was like she was wrapped in pink fluffy pleasure clouds. And all the while she heard and saw the words. It told her in the sweetest, kindest voice Seven had ever heard how wonderful she was. It told her how beautiful and shapely her body was, how talented, how sharp of a mind, how angelic. Seven deserved to feel this good, it told her. She deserved to have bliss day after day. This was her reward for being the most astonishing woman in the galaxy.

Feel me touching you? it asked so quietly it was more like it was speaking directly into her head. "I make you feel so good, don't I Seven? Don't you love to be touched and tickled? Don't you love to be in my embrace like this, with me able to find new ways to make you feel good? There must have been another injection of the drug, because everything seemed even more intense. Don't you love it that you're mine? Mine to do whatever I want with? Seven was laughing and moaning into the gag, so it would have been impossible regardless for her to say anything. The tickling was overwhelming, and so was the pleasure, so that it was hard for her to even think about anything else. Hard? No, impossible. All that was left was simple direct response, without thought. There was only the moment, the unending moment. You love to be my toy, because I make you feel so good, Seven. And you never want me to stop. You want to be my toy forever.

And the only thought that passed briefly through Seven's mind, buffeted between the body-shaking pleasure and the strength-draining tickling was "Yes."
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Samus had gotten to know things a little around here. For one thing, she knew what she was in for every day here. For another, she got to know the people who had apprehended her. Redhead -who turned out to be Mara- never said more than two words to her. The one Samus had hit with the stun weapon was Lara, and Lara seemed far more pleased to see her, though usually because she could make Samus' life a living hell. She was usually in the company of Starbuck, the one who'd brought her in once the trap had sprung.

The pair were here again, and Samus knew what was coming. She'd been laid down on a table and stretched out tight. She didn't say a word as they teased her verbally upon coming in. With one impressive hop Lara jumped onto the table and straddled Samus arms, looking down at her face with that same expression Samus wanted to just slap right off. Starbuck kneeled astride her stomach and looked down as well. "Who's the ticklish girl?" she teased. Still Samus said nothing, but a chill ran down her spine as the two women held up their hands and wriggled their fingers for Samus to see. As they slowly came down she fought to get herself free, knowing, of course, that she didn't have a chance. But she wasn't going to just lie here and take it - they'd have to work for it if they wanted to get to her.

Sadly, they wouldn't have to work long. Starbuck dove right in, digging her nails into the bare ribs with every sign of relish. Samus immediately screamed, the fingers wriggling and digging their nails in along the ticklish sides. There was nothing subtle about it; Starbuck was obviously planning to push her hard right out of the gate. "Cootchie cootchie," she teased, gradually moving further and further up Samus ribcage while she shrieked with laughter. "You're so tickly!" She began mixing up her strikes, alternating between the two sides scratching, prodding, or squeezing. None of it mattered, it was all equally terrible, and Samus had soon found it hard to breath under the onslaught on her torso. She trembled in weak laughter after just a few minutes, eyes screwed shut as she fought to endure even though it was clear she'd already lost. Starbuck went back down to the bottom of her ribs and started again, causing a new series of shrieks to rally and escape from Samus' mouth.

Lara, for her part, wasn't going to let Starbuck have all the fun. She lowered her wriggling fingers into Samus' exposed pits and let them slowly spiral outward from the center until she was hitting every spot one after the other . Samus was weakly knocking the back of her head against the table trying to ignore her, but Lara was insidious. Without any sign she stopped scratching and simply put her hands on the end of Samus' pits near the ribs and drew them like rakes all the way up to the bicep. After three such gestures she slowly began wriggling her fingers on the way, causing Samus to feel like she was turning to liquid. There was no strength left in her limbs and she barely had the energy to leave her jaw hanging open for the laughter that couldn't come.

Her eyes flashed open as Lara stopped in mid-rake and began poking her fingers deep into her underarms. Samus screamed and began thrashing again as Lara repeated the gesture, this time twisting a little as she went in. "GET OFF! WAHAHAHAHA! GET OFF!"

"I don't know about you, but I am," Starbuck commented, winking at Lara.
Always focused, Lara simply kept up her tickle-attack. Samus lost the ability to protest as Lara began massaging the inside of her pits with her thumbs. She never thought she'd think this, but she wished the machines had her instead of these two. It was like they spent all their time figuring how best to tickle people.

"You know," Starbuck mused, "I think our Samus here may be even more ticklish than our missing Borg friend." She began running her nails up and down Samus' ribcage like she was playing a washboard. It was somewhat fitting, considering it caused a change in pitch while Samus screamed and laughed.

"Yes," Lara said. "What is it with you blonds?"

"Hey now," Starbuck said, taking her frustration out on the helpless ribs despite Samus' pleas. "Don't lump me in with these two because of that. I mean, sure, I'm ticklish, but not this ticklish." She started digging her nails in again, and Samus wailed, begging for her to stop. "See? No way am I that ticklish."

"Well," Lara said, "I think we'll find out later.

"And who says you get to do the tickling?" Starbuck demanded.

"I do," Lara said, working a little harder on the armpits just to make sure Samus was still paying her the appropriate amount of attention.

"When you put it like that," Starbuck said, "you actually sound like a bitch."

"You'll definitely pay for that later." Lara commented. "And it will be awful. It'll be on the feet, that horrible one where- well, here, let me show you." She hopped off Samus.

"HAHAHA! NO!" Samus pleaded. "NOT THE FEET!!! HAHAHA!!!"

"Shh," Starbuck said. "i want to see this. I think she's been working on a better way to do this." Seconds later Samus began shrieking with laughter. "Yes, she's definitely getting better," Starbuck commented. "Practice well, Lara, if you plan to have that work on me tonight."

"Don't worry," Lara said as she continued tickling her feet, "I've got most of the kinks worked out. Another few hours, and I'll have it mastered."
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Ms. Danoob sat in her office, watching the tickling with the expected degree of interest on her monitor. Starbuck and Lara worked quite well together; pairing them up was definitely the right choice.
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Ronald sat in his office and watched the holographic display with great interest. The reprogrammers had clearly outdone themselves this time; while Seven was in some kind of a rather barbarous position, it nevertheless seemed to be doing the trick without harming her. That was important; she had to remained undamaged.
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Damaged goods, thought Ms. Danoob, are no good. She watched Samus writhe on the table in ticklish despair. The lesson has to be learned without breaking at the same time.
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Broken, Ronald thought, is counter to what they do here. Seven needed to be reshaped. She needed to fit into the mold cast for her.
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Once Samus was finished she'd be a strong addition to the group, Ms. Danoob thought. You couldn't risk taking the edge off that blade by doing it too hard.
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For Seven to take her place as an appropriate human slave, they couldn't simply beat her like some mere alien. She had to embrace the part she was given.
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Ms. Danoob smiled at Samus laughter.
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Ronald grinned at Seven's laughter.
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"Just a little more time," Ms. Danoob said...
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"...and you'll be mind" Ronald whispered.
 
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