tarr2k1
TMF Regular
- Joined
- Dec 30, 2002
- Messages
- 257
- Points
- 0
Prologue
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Commander Adama’s normally grim face lit up as Starbuck walked off the Raptor. “Good to have you back, lieutenant,” he said as he shook her hand.
“Good to be home, commander,” Starbuck said back. He gestured and they walked side by side through the Galactica.
“Did the Cylons give you a rough time?” he asked.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle, sir,” Starbuck said, although that was stretching the truth. The reality was that the situation had been a frakking nightmare, but she dare not let anyone else know, especially the means the Cylons used to torment her. The whole wing would probably pin her down and tickle her silly if they knew.
Unfortunately, it seemed this day wasn’t as good as she thought. “We know what happened,” he said.
Starbuck wore that face that had won her many a card game. “What’s that?”
“Everything,” Adama said, stopping and looking her in the face. “Everything that happened.”
Starbuck looked around so that she wouldn’t have to look at him. “And by everything, you mean...”
“You’ve nothing to be ashamed of, Kara,” he assured her. “The Cylons have taken our home, our security, our friends... trying to take away your dignity is just one more reason we’re going to put as much distance between them and us as possible.”
Starbuck looked down and smacked her lips. “It’s easy to say, commander, when it wasn’t your dignity taken.”
“I realize that,” Adama said. “And I also realize that you’re probably worried about how this is going to affect your life here. It won’t. Anyone breathes a word of it is in front of me faster than crap through a goose, got me?”
“Got it, sir,” she said with a smirk.
“Listen, we picked up a human model Cylon, and I remember how well you handled the interrogation of the last one we discovered. Feel like taking your shot at her?”
“I think I’ve had my fill of Cylons for a while,” Starbuck said.
“Are you sure?” Adama asked as he opened the door. Starbuck looked over and saw Number Six, stripped and stretched out on a table. There was a rack of feathers, back-scratchers, and other sinister devices nearby. “I thought you could find a way to convince her to talk.”
Starbuck smiled and nodded. “I definitely think I could accomplish something, commander.” Adama nodded and walked out. “Well well well...” she remarked as she walked towards the table. “If it isn’t my old friend.”
“Cylons aren’t ticklish,” Number Six informed her.
Starbuck offered her favorite grin, the smartass one. “Why don’t we test that theory.”
“There’s no need.”
“Oh, I think there is,” Starbuck said, interlocking her fingers and cracking her knuckles. She watched the Cylon’s expression, and that card playing skill told her she was up against an opponent that was bluffing. She hopped up on the table and straddled Number Six. “I’ve been looking for a little payback.”
“I didn’t do that,” Six said nervously.
“How do I know that?” Starbuck wondered aloud. “I think the only way would be for you to confess everything. She dug her nails into Six’s ribs; immediately the Cylon began laughing hysterically. “What’s the matter?” Starbuck asked as she squeezed away. “Your programming having a difficult time handling this?”
“It hahaha wasn’t hohoho me!” Six said as Starbuck worked her entire ribcage over.
“I think you might be lying,” Starbuck said, squeezing and prodding all along her torso, getting her flanks every now and then. “Cootchie cootchie coo!” she teased. “Who’s the ticklish little toaster? Who is it?” Six held back her head and laughed hard. “It’s you, dearie! It’s all you.”
“Please! I’ll tell you what you want!”
“What I want,” Starbuck said as she laid forward over Six’s body, so that her face was right in front of the Cylons, “is to see how ticklish your armpits are.” Her fingers dropped into the exposed pits, and Six practically sprayed Starbuck in the face from how hard the laughter came out. “Hm, very, from the looks of it. Interesting programming choice, don’t you think?”
“Get off of me...” Six pleaded with quiet laughter. There was nothing subtle in Starbuck’s vengeance; you don’t frak with her and expect her not to come back with everything she had. When she went after Six’s armpits, it was a rapid, wriggling affair, and Starbuck fully explored the length and breadth of her pits. Six was hiccupping, she was laughing so much. “...no he-he-he-he more...”
“But more is what I got you for your birthday,” Starbuck said. “You can’t expect me to return it to the store, not after you nuked the entire shopping district.” She grabbed now and worked her thumbs around in the hollows for a while, causing Six to go wild. The restraints were strained, but they’d hold. They’d hold long enough for Starbuck to tickle every inch of this blond cutie over and over again... and she reminded Number Six of that fact before she grabbed her ribs again.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Things started to happen now, and they weren’t all that pleasant. For starters, they’d taken to tickle-interrogating Mara, which was something she hoped she’d never have to again experience. They wanted info on blasters, the common weapons throughout the Empire, but Mara wasn’t a technician. She had a grasp on the basics, but no idea how to help these people construct them. That was bad; it’s always bad when someone tries to torture information out of you that can’t be provided. She’d suffered through several very long tickle sessions so far, and she wasn’t sure when they’d realize she meant it when she said she’d told them everything.
There was another addition made to her routine: she was to be compelled to witness the torment of others. The idea was no doubt to remind her of what she’d go through if she refused to cooperate. It also sent the unspoken message: when you’re a laughing, begging mess, people are watching you. Your weakness is on public display.
So Mara sat in a chair and the screen lit up, and there was tickle-torture in progress. Mara’s jaw fell open.
It was her. There were some differences, but as Mara looked into her face and listened to her laugh, there was no doubt. This was the girl from her dreams, real and in the flesh. How?
The Force.
It was the only thing that made sense. She knew the Force could send people visions, information about past, present, and future. She’d been informed ahead of time about this woman, but why? She considered everything. Maybe because she comes to care so much about her, that her future self influenced her past one. That too had been known to happen for those with Force abilities. It was a stretch, but at the moment it was all she had.
Mara watched the girl for a while. The differences seemed to be the presence of cybernetics across her body; the one in her dreams looked normal. Another thing she observed was the complete absence of all hair except for on her head. Not just shaved or even electrolysis; it was clear that she simply had no hair period. Very unusual; perhaps it was related to the presence of the cybernetics, but whatever it was, they both gave her a hint of the exotic, which was fine with Mara. She’d never had any inkling of such feelings before, but as she looked at the blond woman she knew without a doubt she wanted to know her as well as the one from her dreams.
Mara watched her, and she felt her arousal grow. The girl was ticklish all right... maybe even more than she’d been in Mara’s dreams. Her feet had been stretched out by some mechanical device, and probes were carefully but persistently prodding and stroking them. She could see how securely the feet were held, but even then the woman was strong enough to squirm them a little bit, though not enough to escape. Her upper body was wrapped in a straightjacket that was itself further reinforced with cabling; maybe she was as strong as it implied - cyborgs often were. At the moment it offered little comfort apparently; the girl was thrashing her upper body about in a feeble attempt to break free, screaming with laughter as her feet were teased. “STOP! BWA-HAHAHAHA!!!”
“We want technology on fusion reactors,” a voice said. Mara knew it, it was the same feminine voice that grilled her about blasters. Apparently this effort was to acquire technology, though why they needed something as primitive as a fusion reactor was beyond Mara... although admittedly she wouldn’t know the first thing about how to help them build one, so it was lucky those weren’t her feet.
“YOU’LL HAVE IT!” The girl said before descending into a laughing fit that shook her entire body. The probes had taken an interest in the spaces in front of and between her toes, and it was obvious those were bad spots for the ticklish prisoner. “LET ME GO!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!”
“So you say,” the voice said. “But you haven’t yet provided us with anything more than a few vague diagrams. I want a working prototype, not theory.”
“I NEED TIME!” Her jaw hung open, her laugh silent now as she reached that point where the tickling didn’t even allow the strength to breathe. “JUST MAKE IT STOP!” she finally managed to cry.
“We want you to remember why you need to work harder, my dear,” the unsympathetic voice said.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Seven of Nine’s head swung back to better let the laughter escape. The tickling seemed to get worse each time they brought her down here, but whether that was a subjective viewpoint or by their design was impossible for her to deduce, and regardless, she had more pressing concerns, and they were at the ends of her legs. “I’LL DO IT! HAHAHAHA! JUST STOP! STOP!!!”
“In time,” the cruel voice said.
And then Seven felt the new touch, and it was so surprising she managed to forget the horrible assault on her feet. A tickling presence had slipped between her legs and was teasing her vagina. Oh no, she thought, not that. This is humiliating enough. But as it stroked she knew what she was in for, the subtle touches a strange compliment to the unrestrained intensity of the stroking and prodding probes on her soles.
Seven closed her eyes and laughed. The touch there tickled like crazy, there was no denying that. But it harkened back to the Borg experiments she remembered, where despite the sensation it had resulted in incredible pleasure. She could feel it building again, amplified by the tickling of her feet. After a couple of minutes, her laughter changed. It was no longer desperation, it was... it was simply a reaction, nothing more. The sensations in her tummy made the tickling take on a wonderful quality. They teased along her arches, near the area by the toes, around the ball, all over her feet, and it became exquisite. She laughed... but it was as if it were a laugh of joy. And the touch to the areas of her womanhood she’d never really regarded over the years almost made her feel drunk. She stopped struggling in her straightjacket. She wished the redhead girl were here to touch her in her magical ways... it was the only thing missing from the situation to make it truly perfect. To feel her hands on Seven’s body while this pleasure rolled through her... just the thought... just...
The laughter stopped and Seven laid back, exhausted, but flooded with pleasure. It was her first conscious orgasm as a human... and she approved. She wanted another. What she didn’t realize was that someone was watching her who wished with all her heart to give it to her.
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Commander Adama’s normally grim face lit up as Starbuck walked off the Raptor. “Good to have you back, lieutenant,” he said as he shook her hand.
“Good to be home, commander,” Starbuck said back. He gestured and they walked side by side through the Galactica.
“Did the Cylons give you a rough time?” he asked.
“Nothing I couldn’t handle, sir,” Starbuck said, although that was stretching the truth. The reality was that the situation had been a frakking nightmare, but she dare not let anyone else know, especially the means the Cylons used to torment her. The whole wing would probably pin her down and tickle her silly if they knew.
Unfortunately, it seemed this day wasn’t as good as she thought. “We know what happened,” he said.
Starbuck wore that face that had won her many a card game. “What’s that?”
“Everything,” Adama said, stopping and looking her in the face. “Everything that happened.”
Starbuck looked around so that she wouldn’t have to look at him. “And by everything, you mean...”
“You’ve nothing to be ashamed of, Kara,” he assured her. “The Cylons have taken our home, our security, our friends... trying to take away your dignity is just one more reason we’re going to put as much distance between them and us as possible.”
Starbuck looked down and smacked her lips. “It’s easy to say, commander, when it wasn’t your dignity taken.”
“I realize that,” Adama said. “And I also realize that you’re probably worried about how this is going to affect your life here. It won’t. Anyone breathes a word of it is in front of me faster than crap through a goose, got me?”
“Got it, sir,” she said with a smirk.
“Listen, we picked up a human model Cylon, and I remember how well you handled the interrogation of the last one we discovered. Feel like taking your shot at her?”
“I think I’ve had my fill of Cylons for a while,” Starbuck said.
“Are you sure?” Adama asked as he opened the door. Starbuck looked over and saw Number Six, stripped and stretched out on a table. There was a rack of feathers, back-scratchers, and other sinister devices nearby. “I thought you could find a way to convince her to talk.”
Starbuck smiled and nodded. “I definitely think I could accomplish something, commander.” Adama nodded and walked out. “Well well well...” she remarked as she walked towards the table. “If it isn’t my old friend.”
“Cylons aren’t ticklish,” Number Six informed her.
Starbuck offered her favorite grin, the smartass one. “Why don’t we test that theory.”
“There’s no need.”
“Oh, I think there is,” Starbuck said, interlocking her fingers and cracking her knuckles. She watched the Cylon’s expression, and that card playing skill told her she was up against an opponent that was bluffing. She hopped up on the table and straddled Number Six. “I’ve been looking for a little payback.”
“I didn’t do that,” Six said nervously.
“How do I know that?” Starbuck wondered aloud. “I think the only way would be for you to confess everything. She dug her nails into Six’s ribs; immediately the Cylon began laughing hysterically. “What’s the matter?” Starbuck asked as she squeezed away. “Your programming having a difficult time handling this?”
“It hahaha wasn’t hohoho me!” Six said as Starbuck worked her entire ribcage over.
“I think you might be lying,” Starbuck said, squeezing and prodding all along her torso, getting her flanks every now and then. “Cootchie cootchie coo!” she teased. “Who’s the ticklish little toaster? Who is it?” Six held back her head and laughed hard. “It’s you, dearie! It’s all you.”
“Please! I’ll tell you what you want!”
“What I want,” Starbuck said as she laid forward over Six’s body, so that her face was right in front of the Cylons, “is to see how ticklish your armpits are.” Her fingers dropped into the exposed pits, and Six practically sprayed Starbuck in the face from how hard the laughter came out. “Hm, very, from the looks of it. Interesting programming choice, don’t you think?”
“Get off of me...” Six pleaded with quiet laughter. There was nothing subtle in Starbuck’s vengeance; you don’t frak with her and expect her not to come back with everything she had. When she went after Six’s armpits, it was a rapid, wriggling affair, and Starbuck fully explored the length and breadth of her pits. Six was hiccupping, she was laughing so much. “...no he-he-he-he more...”
“But more is what I got you for your birthday,” Starbuck said. “You can’t expect me to return it to the store, not after you nuked the entire shopping district.” She grabbed now and worked her thumbs around in the hollows for a while, causing Six to go wild. The restraints were strained, but they’d hold. They’d hold long enough for Starbuck to tickle every inch of this blond cutie over and over again... and she reminded Number Six of that fact before she grabbed her ribs again.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Things started to happen now, and they weren’t all that pleasant. For starters, they’d taken to tickle-interrogating Mara, which was something she hoped she’d never have to again experience. They wanted info on blasters, the common weapons throughout the Empire, but Mara wasn’t a technician. She had a grasp on the basics, but no idea how to help these people construct them. That was bad; it’s always bad when someone tries to torture information out of you that can’t be provided. She’d suffered through several very long tickle sessions so far, and she wasn’t sure when they’d realize she meant it when she said she’d told them everything.
There was another addition made to her routine: she was to be compelled to witness the torment of others. The idea was no doubt to remind her of what she’d go through if she refused to cooperate. It also sent the unspoken message: when you’re a laughing, begging mess, people are watching you. Your weakness is on public display.
So Mara sat in a chair and the screen lit up, and there was tickle-torture in progress. Mara’s jaw fell open.
It was her. There were some differences, but as Mara looked into her face and listened to her laugh, there was no doubt. This was the girl from her dreams, real and in the flesh. How?
The Force.
It was the only thing that made sense. She knew the Force could send people visions, information about past, present, and future. She’d been informed ahead of time about this woman, but why? She considered everything. Maybe because she comes to care so much about her, that her future self influenced her past one. That too had been known to happen for those with Force abilities. It was a stretch, but at the moment it was all she had.
Mara watched the girl for a while. The differences seemed to be the presence of cybernetics across her body; the one in her dreams looked normal. Another thing she observed was the complete absence of all hair except for on her head. Not just shaved or even electrolysis; it was clear that she simply had no hair period. Very unusual; perhaps it was related to the presence of the cybernetics, but whatever it was, they both gave her a hint of the exotic, which was fine with Mara. She’d never had any inkling of such feelings before, but as she looked at the blond woman she knew without a doubt she wanted to know her as well as the one from her dreams.
Mara watched her, and she felt her arousal grow. The girl was ticklish all right... maybe even more than she’d been in Mara’s dreams. Her feet had been stretched out by some mechanical device, and probes were carefully but persistently prodding and stroking them. She could see how securely the feet were held, but even then the woman was strong enough to squirm them a little bit, though not enough to escape. Her upper body was wrapped in a straightjacket that was itself further reinforced with cabling; maybe she was as strong as it implied - cyborgs often were. At the moment it offered little comfort apparently; the girl was thrashing her upper body about in a feeble attempt to break free, screaming with laughter as her feet were teased. “STOP! BWA-HAHAHAHA!!!”
“We want technology on fusion reactors,” a voice said. Mara knew it, it was the same feminine voice that grilled her about blasters. Apparently this effort was to acquire technology, though why they needed something as primitive as a fusion reactor was beyond Mara... although admittedly she wouldn’t know the first thing about how to help them build one, so it was lucky those weren’t her feet.
“YOU’LL HAVE IT!” The girl said before descending into a laughing fit that shook her entire body. The probes had taken an interest in the spaces in front of and between her toes, and it was obvious those were bad spots for the ticklish prisoner. “LET ME GO!!! HAHAHAHAHA!!!”
“So you say,” the voice said. “But you haven’t yet provided us with anything more than a few vague diagrams. I want a working prototype, not theory.”
“I NEED TIME!” Her jaw hung open, her laugh silent now as she reached that point where the tickling didn’t even allow the strength to breathe. “JUST MAKE IT STOP!” she finally managed to cry.
“We want you to remember why you need to work harder, my dear,” the unsympathetic voice said.
--------------------------------------------------------------
Seven of Nine’s head swung back to better let the laughter escape. The tickling seemed to get worse each time they brought her down here, but whether that was a subjective viewpoint or by their design was impossible for her to deduce, and regardless, she had more pressing concerns, and they were at the ends of her legs. “I’LL DO IT! HAHAHAHA! JUST STOP! STOP!!!”
“In time,” the cruel voice said.
And then Seven felt the new touch, and it was so surprising she managed to forget the horrible assault on her feet. A tickling presence had slipped between her legs and was teasing her vagina. Oh no, she thought, not that. This is humiliating enough. But as it stroked she knew what she was in for, the subtle touches a strange compliment to the unrestrained intensity of the stroking and prodding probes on her soles.
Seven closed her eyes and laughed. The touch there tickled like crazy, there was no denying that. But it harkened back to the Borg experiments she remembered, where despite the sensation it had resulted in incredible pleasure. She could feel it building again, amplified by the tickling of her feet. After a couple of minutes, her laughter changed. It was no longer desperation, it was... it was simply a reaction, nothing more. The sensations in her tummy made the tickling take on a wonderful quality. They teased along her arches, near the area by the toes, around the ball, all over her feet, and it became exquisite. She laughed... but it was as if it were a laugh of joy. And the touch to the areas of her womanhood she’d never really regarded over the years almost made her feel drunk. She stopped struggling in her straightjacket. She wished the redhead girl were here to touch her in her magical ways... it was the only thing missing from the situation to make it truly perfect. To feel her hands on Seven’s body while this pleasure rolled through her... just the thought... just...
The laughter stopped and Seven laid back, exhausted, but flooded with pleasure. It was her first conscious orgasm as a human... and she approved. She wanted another. What she didn’t realize was that someone was watching her who wished with all her heart to give it to her.
