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Battle of Lorraine


No one remembers how the war started, but Commander Celeste of the Paxim had no doubt which side would emerge victorious. She and her Paxim soldiers were graceful, beautiful, and deadly, though few would ever accuse Celeste of humility. Then again, modesty was never one of the traits of the Paxim race. In their own words, they were very self-assured of their own superiority, though many would use harsher words.

Their technology was advanced, and they were lethal with long ranged weaponry. Paxim snipers were feared among all the races, as one shot from their powerful mirth rifles would incapacitate a foe with ticklish laughter miles away before they even knew what hit them.

They were patronizing on a good day, cruelly condescending on a bad one. The Paxim thought little of the poor, unenlightened fools which made up the other races; part of this was due to the emphasis on aesthetics in Paxim culture. The Paxim were picturesque beauties, flawless ivory skin and fashionable outfits – the beautiful battle was their manta. Expert marksmanship and defensive tools were their go-to weapons, and were a proven and effective commodity.

The flip side to that was that hand-to-hand combat was something they were comparatively weak against, since they couldn’t shake the belief that such primitive combat styles were beneath them. Commander Celeste wondered if those beliefs would bite the Paxim in their battle to come against the boisterous and brazen Boudo, as she scowled at the monitors in the control room, as she saw the chaos and the carnage exploding around the once-beautiful capital city of Alase on the planet of Lorraine. This was why the Paxim had to win.

It would be beyond shameful to lose such a sprawling city to such unrefined ruffians such as The Boudo; they really were a disgrace to any true warmongering species. Celeste stood in front of her monitors, arms crossed as she watched the Boudo horde manoeuvre. After watching for a few moments, the Paxim commander turned her head away and sniffed with disapproval; to use the word ‘manoeuvre’ felt like she was giving these lawless savages far too much tactical credit.

If they had any discipline at all, she failed to see it. Their armies dissolved into a dozen uncoordinated mobs the second they made contact with Paxim forces. The cliché was that no plan survived first contact with the enemy, but the Boudo’s plan seemed to fly to pieces as soon as they were out of earshot of their hulking brute of a leader, an especially tall Boudo woman named Tomoe.

The Boudo were a horned red-skinned species, whose aggressive expansion policies reminded much of the galaxy of a virus. They were big gangly things, a mess of long limbs and muscles. Just watching their foul features on the monitor upset Celeste’s sensibilities immeasurably. Celeste honestly couldn’t think how else to describe them than as a rabble of unevolved, undisciplined madwomen. Celeste turned her nose up at their ragtag armour; all mismatched and faded, just sandals and scraps of cloth, really. 

Fashion, art and science clearly was a foreign concept to them, though they (like base primates) used some kind of tickle-inducing sticks, though they were so backwards they seemed to prefer using fingers anyway. They were fearsome when within arm’s length, (probably due to their unwashed stench) but Celeste didn’t think much of it. Just stay away from them! How hard could it be! She shook her head dismissively as she saw a handful of her scouts make contact with the Boudo weapons. The Boudo should just hurry up and let themselves be beaten by their superiors. Honestly, it would do them some good to learn from the Paxim's shining example.

To lose to these Boudo screamers… it was unthinkable, Celeste decided. She wondered why the Paxim would have to dirty their hands dealing with these Boudo brutes, and she found herself having difficulty remember exactly how and why the conflict had started. It probably started the same way all the other wars had. War was second nature to the races now, just as tickle-torture weaponry was. There was no questioning it, it was just how the universe was.

In her introspective moods, Celeste sometimes wondered why it seemed there could never be peace in this universe. It was as if tension and tickling were sowed into the very fabric of the universe. All conflicts were solved through orgasmic tickle battles here, as that was the only way to achieve true victory and submission. She was no philosopher, but she had to wonder if there was another party constantly manipulating the others into tickle-war. New tickle weaponry would be leaked, conspiracies would be unravelled, and assassination attempts would be made like clockwork whenever peace between races seemed to be close at hand. It wasn’t just the Paxim and the Boudo too, every intergalactic conflict seemed to stretch on and on, only ceasing when a new war with a new enemy would begin. Celeste would never claim to being religious, but she wondered if there was an omniscient force in this universal who seemed to enjoy the sight of women squirming and struggling in an internal giggly conflict.

She admired her outfit for today; thigh-high yellow boots that matched her long blonde hair, black nylons, a matching mini-skirt and lacey top that exposed her underarms. She knew she made a stunning sight on the battlefield with her slender figure and comely features, and half the battle was aesthetics. She smiled as she admired her pretty yellow fingernails. If there really was something out there would watching, she was damn sure that she and her Paxim soldiers would put on a show for them.

Battle was an art, and once the barbaric Boudo hordes besieging her camp had tired themselves out, she would orchestrate a symphonic counterattack, as beautiful as it was lethal.

A voice in the command room shook Celeste from her reprieve.

“Commander Celeste, we’ve captured a scout who broke through out formation,” Captain Astra, a blue-haired woman whom Celeste admired for her stoicism as well as her ruthless attitude to tickling. Celeste had sparred with Astra regularly during her training days, and the blue-haired belle had given as good as she got. Just the sight of Astra’s varnished blue fingernails sent shivers down Celeste’s spine as she remembered their last sparring – It had been about a month ago, and Astra had outpredicted her and nailed her with a blast from her tickle-pistol. As Celeste held her stomach and tried to curl into the fetal position, Astra had pinned her down and took no prisoners as she teased everywhere from belly to breasts.

“Would you like to handle the interrogation, Commander?”

Celeste smiled. The hot-blooded excitement of battle was thrilling, but an interrogation was her favourite way to remind wayward races like the Boudo of Paxim superiority.

“Acknowledged. I’ll handle it myself. You’re in charge, Captain Astra.”

Astra nodded, and with a knowing smile. “Have fun, Commander.”

“I always have fun showing a lesser race their place.”


“Sanctimonious assholes. Those fucking cowards!”

Commander Tomoe was not one to mince words, and she was definitely not one to worry about swearing at a time like this The red-skinned Boudo commander was tall, even for her race, as she bellowed out orders in the midst of the carnage of battle, ducking her head as shot from rifles that would incapacitate her with laughter whizzed about and ricocheted off walls in the crumbling city. Tomoe had forgotten why this city was so damn important, but right now she had bigger concerns. She had little respect for ‘commanders’ who hid behind their armies, so she was leading battle from the front, an spasm-inducing tickle sword at her waist and Boudo warriors at her back. Tomoe wasn’t afraid though, if anything, she revelled at the sight of the chaos around her. This was what she lived for – the thrills of battle. The spoils of war were good too, as Tomoe would be quite elated to get herself a nice, pink-haired, pampered, Paxim princess as a tickle-slave too. 

The Boudo and their fast-paced tactics had taken a lot of ground, but the remaining Paxim fortifications were stubborn, as their energy shields, turrets and snipers made them nigh-impenetrable; but Tomoe had a plan. It seemed like all the other races underestimated the Boudo for the cunning and their battle sense, but Tomoe was more than happy to be the one to prove them wrong. The cocky Paxim forces would be sitting on their asses, expecting their defences to hold, but Tomoe had just the answer for that.

Tomoe ducked into a side corridor, gravel crunching under her sandals as she sprinted down through the street, a dozen warriors at her heels. There was a sniper nest on the building opposite, and Tomoe was planning diving straight into that hornet’s nest.

The Boudo commander was tempted to storm the nest with a headlong assault, as she saw the flimsy door that seemed to be the entrance to the nest, but she thought better of it after a moment. She gestured at two of her more agile comrades and told them to scale the walls so they could attempt a two-pronged assault. Kiriko, a dark-haired minx who liked daggers smiled and nodded eagerly at this plan, and Hana, a mouthy smaller girl whose name was who loved shoving her spear around, mumbled a quick “fuck, yeah!”

After waiting a few seconds for the climbers to get into position, Tomoe grinned at her troops and nodded – they all charged headlong for the door, smashing it into the splinters as they burst into the room. The Paxim guards in the room were caught totally off-guard; there was even one stupid pansy who had taken off her boots to apply a fresh coat of nail polish to her toes, talk about misplaced priorities!

“Tickle ‘em silly!” Tomoe howled, as her comrades screamed out similar phrases as they slashed into the room, slicing and dicing with their weapons. The orange-haired girl with her boots on the floor was quickly pounced upon and tickled into submission by Boudo nails raking up and down her soles. A green-haired woman with a tickle-pistol holstered at her hip jumped backwards reflexively as Tomoe swung at her, but before she could lift her weapon a second swipe to her ribs stunned her long enough for a second slash at her stomach to force her to double over.

Laughing loudly, Tomoe bundled the green-haired Paxim bitch into her arms, and shook her wildly till the pistol slipped from her fingers. The other Paxim obviously recognized Tomoe as the leader, so they launched the main brunt of their weapons at her, but they didn’t seem to recognize that Tomoe had smartly gotten herself a shield, as the green-haired girl squealed and squirmed with each blast.

The Paxim were quickly becoming overwhelmed, though they had blasted two of Tomoe’s girls with a few lucky shots. The snipers on the rooftop quickly came rumbling down the stairs to offer their beleaguered teammates some support, but Tomoe’s climbers knived them in the sides as they running down the stairs, so they tumbled down the stairs writhing in laughter as Kiriko and Hana snickered with glee.

There was only one soldier left now, a silver-haired woman who bore a captain’s badge on her breast. Tomoe’s blocked a blast from her rifle with her green-haired shield, and tossed the limp and giggling woman at her. The soldier hadn’t expected Tomoe to be capable of such a feat of strength, and her green-haired ally knocked her to the floor.

The gasping Paxim captain struggled to her feet, and picked up a feather-sword from one of Tomoe’s fallen giggling comrades.

Tomoe’s grin widened. “Stand back, she’s mine,” the Boudo commander said. “Let’s see what you got.”

“I will put you down… feral dog,” the captain snarled.

The captain swung wildly at Tomoe, but the Paxim commander easily dodged it, and counter-struck with a swipe of her own feather-sword into the exposed armpit. The Captain spasmed and almost dropped her sword, but managed to recover quickly.

Tomoe smiled, this Captain was just like all the others, only perhaps with a bit more spirit. They only knew how to fight with their fancy toys in their hands. “Is that it then, Captain?”

The blade swung faster this time, but Tomoe expertly parried the strike and landed another blow, this time along the Captain’s thighs. Now the Captain was limping.

“You seem feisty, Captain, I think me and my girls will play with you for a bit before finishing you off…”

“You monsters!” the silver-haired woman growled, as she lifted her sword to strike again, but Tomoe was too quick for her, darting back and away from her range.

“Enough of this. I want to hear you laugh…” Tomoe laughed, after dodging a few more of the captain’s clumsy strikes. Tomoe put some real force into her next few slashes, and disarmed the captain on the fourth strike, knocking the sword away. She reached with her arm for the Captain’s ankle, and pulled her up by it, so the captain was hanging upside down. The grunting and cussing captain struggled, but she was too weak from the earlier strikes to put up any real resistance.

“Strip off their uniforms tie ‘em up with the bolas. I’ll have a word with the Captain here…” Tomoe said, and every Boudo in the room smiled, as all they knew exactly what she meant.


“When will you Boudo fools learn… this is what you get for fighting against your betters…”

Celeste smiled at the beautiful sight before her. The red-skinned Boudo was finally in her proper place. The dark-haired Boudo warrior had been stripped of her rags and her weapons, and she lay completely naked with her arms and legs tied to opposing ends of the table. They had blindfolded her to accentuate the experience, as the Paxim were all about the little touches.

The red-haired girl who lay moaning and gasping on the table was a scout who had initially broken through their lines, but quickly found herself outnumbered and captured. Three Paxim soldiers assisted Celeste as she conducted her interrogation.

They knew the best way to torment a rowdy, wilful creature like the Boudo was to turn her own animalistic desires against her. They had stoked the Boudo’s fire, tantalizing her body with giant ornate Paxim feathers to a devastating effect. The Paxim feathers could not stand up against Boudo's feather-blades, but they were very potent in the right hand hands.

“Please… nohoho more…” the red-skinned Boudo girl gasped as a pair of feathers stroked across the sole of her left foot, causing her entire leg to jerk. “It’s too much…” she closed her eyes in confusion then forced them wide open when a feather stroked across her bare belly.

“Do you have something to say to me, Boudo scum?” Celeste said, revelling in the other girl’s misfortunes as she hungrily watched the way the feather teased between the Boudo’s legs and brushed against her genitals.

“Plehehehease! I, ohhhhhhh…” the Boudo moaned mid-sentence as a pair of feathers fielded by Celeste’s suddenly flick across her exposed nipples. Her entire body jerks, and then she screams harshly as a feather licks up her right side and slides across her armpit.

The squirming Boudo girl was a mess of nervous energy, as she squealed and tossed back and forth as if doing so could make her ignore the sensations. She was so backwards, like her entire species, Celeste though dismissively, as she slid her feather in circles around those perky red breasts. The nipples were quickly hardening, it was only a matter of time now, till the foolish girl put her desires in front of her Commander. She shook her head violently as a feather trailed down her side, while another feather slipped between her toes. All the while, the feather in between her legs continued to tease her womanhood. Celeste grinned, and spun the tips of the feathers right on those rock-hard nipples.

“How much longer should I keep you waiting? An hour? Two? I bet you’d love to me to grant you release…” Celeste crooned, flicking the moaning Boudo’s girl nipples with her feathers. “But you have to earn it… now tell me what I want to know!” she said sternly, pulling away as the red-skinned girl tossed her head from side to side in sexual frustration.

“I tohohold you! I dohohon’t know anything! Plehehehease! Leheheheht me cuhuhuhum!”

“You must know something…” Celeste said, with mock sweetness, as she teased the areolas. “Tell me something… and I can give you… something…”

“I know… something,” the Tudou girl whimpered uncertainly. “About Tomoe…”

“If you be a good girl and tell me, you might even get release…” Celeste smiled, as she dropped the feathers and tugged on the red-skinned girl’s nipples tantalizingly, making her squirm in unrealized ecstasy. “Now tell me…”


“Tell me. When you’re ready, of course,” Tomoe grinned at the Paxim captain whose will had undergone a major battering. The silver-haired beauty was as naked as the day she was born, and ganged up by four Boudo not including Tomoe, the Paxim captain was having a difficult time telling which way was up. Her arms were pulled up by an ebola rope, and two of the Boudo sat on her legs, their heavy frames keeping her from kicking and prevented much movement. And it was clear the flustered Tomoe captain wanted very much to move, as her frustrated laughter was constant and shrill. Yet every time the moans threatened to drown out the laughter Tomoe would gesture and her girls would step it up a notch.

“She’s moaning too much, girls. Let’s make it even worse for her!”

A pair of Tomoe’s girls were slathering their tongues all over the captain’s soles, popping her silver-painted toenails into their mouths, while their fingers across the pale ticklish soles in front of them. The pleasing sensations from the sensual licking and nibbling was constantly being countered by the scribbling of nails along soles, so the Paxim girl could never quite enjoy herself.

“Plehehehease! Nohohoho! It’s tohohohohoo much!”

“Too much? You heard her, she’s not satisfied! Make it extra good for the pampered princess here!” Tomoe guffawed, as the Paxim captain desperately shook her head.

The two girls along her upper body was a special flavour of hell too; they took a side each, and spent their time kissing and licking along the Paxim girl’s pale neck, teasing along the armpits, or worst of all, lapping and teasing the hardened tips of her perky nipples. The hazy Paxim captain would always let out a little squeal as the mischievous Boudo girls softly scratches the undersides of the nipples and delicately swirled their nails around the areolas that were so sensitive to stimulation. With all their tongues and fingers, the Paxim captain was a mess of over-stimulation as her breasts and sides were assaulted by the pinching, poking, and licking of her baby-soft skin.

“How does it feel now, Captain?”

“Gohohohod, too good!” the captain squeaked, as she ground her hips in aroused frustration.

The worst of all was, of course, Tomoe herself, as she stood in front of the girl’s spread legs with her feather-sword; the feather-sword was sliding in and out of her slit, tantalizingly slowly so the edges of the sword tickle-stimulated at a snail’s pace. Every time the feather seemed to be a bit too pleasurable for Tomoe’s taste, she would remove it from the Captain’s throbbing womanhood and run it up and down her thighs or along her tender buttocks instead, to her eminent frustration.

“So tell me everything you know about your commander… you give me what I want, and maybe you get what you want… everybody wins…” Tomoe smiled wickedly, as the captain gave another frustrated whimper as the feather-sword twirled along her nether regions.


“How could they have broken through our lines so quickly? How?”

Common lore was that Paxim did not get angry – they were too advanced to be driven by such petty emotions, but there was no doubt that if Commander Celeste was not angry, she was experiencing a moment of extremely tranquil and serene fury. The Paxim command room was a mess of activity, as trooper carrying weapons and armour ran to and fro.

And understandably so; the Paxim defensive perimeter had been flawless with its turrets and sniper nests. Yet somehow their defences had been breached. Needless to say – Commander Celeste was less than pleased.

“Tell me how did those Boudo dunderheads manage to sneak through our lines?” Celeste spat, as she marched down the hallway towards the armoury, blue-haired Captain Astra at her heels.

“Hard to confirm for now, Commander,” Captain Astra was saying, as she thumbed her way through fields reports in her arms. “But it looks like they got hold of our uniforms and just walked straight past our turrets. Once they got close, those melee weapons they love so much made short work of our forces.”

“The Boudo have red skin – are our snipers colour-blind? Why weren’t they spotted?” Celeste snarled in exasperated discontentment – Paxim soldiers did not get angry, merely exasperated.

“It’s a dusty city, Commander. And you don’t shoot your soldiers just because you they look like they might have a rash.”

“Boudo soldiers are, on average, a foot taller than Paxim ones,” Celeste said, spittle flying from her mouth in a decidedly-unladylike fashion.

“They probably slouched,” Astra shrugged. “I don’t have the answers, Commander.”

“Fine,” Celeste growled, as she slammed a fist into the wall. “Let’s forget about the how. What’s our current situation?”

“Boudo continue to spill through the deactivated turrets. Our initial defences are holding… but they need help.”

“Get down there and take command, Captain. I’ll join you shortly.”

“Beauty in battle to you, Commander.”

“And you,” Celeste nodded.

As the blue-haired form of Captain Astra and her high-heeled boots left disappeared from the vicinity, Celeste punched in the code to her private armoury.

Few Paxim warriors trained with melee weapons, and Celeste had to confess she was a bit out of practice with this particular weapon, but she had confidence that this would be the turning of the tide in this untidy, chaotic, mess of a battle. They really were unworthy of a power of such power and grace.

Now to meet her foes, and rout them like the feckless dogs they were.


Captain Astra’s long blue hair clung to her face as she and a dozen Paxim soldiers constantly gave ground outside the main entrance of the Paxim command centre. There were just too many of them. They would launch blasts from their tickle-guns, but the Boudo at the front of the swarm had stolen the Paxim’s Energy shields, and were bouncing the blasts right back of them. The Paxim girls were in a desperate retreat, and any girl that couldn’t keep up was swallowed by the horde, screaming and laughing as she was gang-tickled by a half a dozen red-skinned Boudo warriors – numbers were that much in their favour.

Thankfully Astra had come prepared, and a few strategically placed tickle-grenades took out the Boudo shield-bearers, though by then most of the Paxim girls were running low on ammunition. Picking up feather-swords and feather-spears from giggling and twitching Boudo who had fallen, they stood their ground as best as they could with such unfamiliar weapons in their hands.

Was this to be the Paxim’s last stand on Lorraine? Captain Astra wondered, as she was strung up on a wall like all the others, stripped of her weapons and her clothing.

No. Commander Celeste is still out there. She can turn the tide, Astra thought, trying to keep her emotions under control as she felt a Boudo’s eager tongue lap across her blue-painted toes. Oh, she hated it when they teased her feet like this… tickling she could take, but the stubborn, insistent pang of arousal was something else. She felt the tongue slide between her toes right when another Boudo was starting to lap along her pale belly button and her blue eyes closed in conflicted ticklish bliss.

Then she heard a crackle like a thunderstorm and her sharp eyes sprang open, a smile on her face. She recognized that sound. It was the Paxim lightning-spear could turn the tide of the battle, a spear that could launch tickle-blasts from its head – it was the perfect weapon to deal with the Boudo. She knew Commander Celeste would-

The tongues invading her toes became too much to ignore, and Astra slumped back, grinding her hips, and coherent thought for the captain became difficult.


The Paxim lightning-spear hummed in her hand, as Commander Celeste, with her blonde hair billowing out behind her, dispatched Boudo after Boudo with blast or slash. The long spear allowed her to parry reckless swipes from the Boudo trash that passed for their weapons, and her energy blasts gave her a decisive advantage. She had thought her way through dozens of Boudo warriors, the sight of her blue-haired captain strung up across the end of the room spurring her on, but before she could reach Astra, a booming voice halted her in her tracks.

“Commander Celeste!” the coarse voice made Celeste’s title sound like an insult. Celeste turned to the window and saw on the sparse, smoking ground below, lay Commander Tomoe, with a gaggle of Boudo brutes around her.

“I’ll deal with you later, Boudo fiend!” Celeste yelled, as she turned back towards Astra.

“Running away from me? And they said the Paxim were brave!” Tomoe roared, patting her toned stomach, and all flock of sheep all laughed along with her. “I challenge you to a duel! Come and show me if you Paxims are as mighty as you boast!” Tomoe howled, as she beckoned to Celeste.

The blonde Paxim commander grit her teeth, and leapt from the balcony to meet her foe in the ground, lightning-spear sparkling with energy. A blast from the head of the spear neutralized a pair of screaming Boudo grunts, till the two commanders were face to face.

“Glad you could make it,” the muscular and forboding red-skinned Tomoe grinned, with teeth like a shark.

“Why would I miss this opportunity to make a dumb brute like you my slave – you need to learn from your betters!” Celeste shouted, as she aimed with the spear and launched a blast of tickle-energy at Tomoe. The hulking red girl was faster than she looked, and ducked her head in time to dodge the blast. Then with a growl, she sprinted forward with dangerous intent, feather-sword in her hand.

Celeste barely got her guard in time to meet the slash with her spear, though the jolt of the impact sent ticklish shockwaves through her body that made her knees shake. The blonde-haired captain countered with a jab to the ribs with the spear, but Tomoe parried, and landed a glancing blow on Celeste’s rear that sent violent shivers creeping up her spine.

“You’re better than I thought you would be,” Tomoe grunted, as Celeste landed a blow on her shoulder that almost made the great red-skinned woman drop her feather-sword.

“Oh? You’re worse than I thought you would be,” Celeste sneered, as she swung at Tomoe’s neck, but the Boudo Commander nimbly darted back.

“You really do represent your people well: beautiful, arrogant, and so very stupid,” Tomoe said, with a bellowing laugh, and Celeste felt a chill on her neck as all the Boudo barbarians around them screamed with laughter too.

“Shut your mouth, Boudo scum,” Celeste said, taking a blast with her lightning-spear.

Tomoe ducked her head, but the laughing continued. “You never wondered why I lured you down here, did you? Look at the floor, nimrod!”

Aware this could be one of the Boudo’s dirty tricks, Celeste tried not to take her eyes of Tomoe as she subtly glanced at the ground, and the Paxim Commander was shocked to recognized the mines planted right along her high-heeled boots.

“You walked right into our little minefield, Princess,” Tomoe grinned, from a safe distance away, as Celeste felt a violent detonation of sensations.

Where the smoke cleared, Tomoe was surprised to see the blonde Paxim commander was still standing, though she was noticeably shaking slightly.

“You can feel them, can’t you? And it looks like that plump, ticklish ass of yours took the worst of it,” Tomoe said, patting her muscular stomach and roaring with laughter. The laughter was quickly erased as a blast from Celeste’s spear missed her by inches.

“I’m… stihihil fighting!” Celeste gasped. Tomoe had not been wrong. Celeste could feel that her teeth were clenched in a very tight smile, and that tears were forming in her eyes and beginning to trickle down her cheeks.

As an added insult to injury, the mines themselves were Paxim weaponry – the Boudo blunderers would never have been capable of manufacturing such technology. It was clear that the Boudo has commandeered it when they made their initial raid through enemy lines. The mines were disruptive traps that, when triggered, sent tiny, little spider-like nanite creatures which wreaked ticklish havoc on their stunned victim. Trying to brush them away was pointless – they were designed to be difficult to remove, and violently slapping at them might only spread them to other region

“Sure you can stand, Princess?” Tomoe said in mock concern, as she waved her feather-sword in her hand.

Celeste’s knees shook, as every half-second brought a new sweep of the feather between her buns. She couldn’t quite count how many there were, as that required too much concentration that she currently had, but she knew there were definitely at least have a dozen that had flown up her yellow skirt along her thighs and butt; and Celeste was so ticklish there, that it would have taken a superhuman effort merely to resist one soft feather nestled in the sensitive crack of her bum, but with half a dozen mechanical perpetrators… all sliding their feathers all over her cheeks, and teasing every inch of skin beneath the panty line… The little nanites knew exactly how to tickle her, focusing on the spots that made her squirm and snicker the most – it was what they were designed to do.

Celeste though diving head-long back into the battle with Tomoe would allow her to take her mind off things, as the Paxim commander commenced a series of desperate attacks with her lightning-spear, but the ticklishness of her butt had left her winded and distracted, so her strokes lacked the power and placement before, and Tomoe easily dodged them. Any Tomoe’s slashes were as lethal as before, as she landed spasming strikes to many a vulnerable body part. Concentration on the battle was impossible when it felt like the feather had free reign underneath her clothes, teasing her skin and forcing out fresh giggles every time they brushed along a new spot.

“Don’t you see.” The blade licked across Celeste’s neck, and made her squeak.

“This game is.” The sword slid across the back of Celeste’s knees, and dropped her to the ground.

“Already.” The Boudo’s weapon swept from stomach to breast in one motion, with devastating ticklish effects.

“Over.” The blade jammed under into Celeste’s womanhood, and spun, the barrage of ticklish sensations so strong that even the great Commander Celeste fell unconscious.

“You’re my slave now, blondie,” Tomoe grinned, staring down at her panting and still-giggling foe. “Victory to Boudo!” she bellowed to her warriors, who took up her chant.

“Come with me and take this city!”                                                       




Star Wars TK: Ahsoka V

(This takes place at an indeterminate time during the Clone Wars.)

Star Wars TK: Maid to Laugh


The Clone Wars was an incredibly dangerous time, and in such times of strife, Padme Amidala sometimes found that the most dangerous foes were often those you had comfortably designated as allies, or those who could not possibly be a threat. The Separatists were an obvious foe, with their remorseless murder droids, but Padme found herself mistrusting more and more in the Galactic Senate, as so many Senators seemed more preoccupied with their own interests and their own agendas than the fate of the galaxy. It disgusted Padme how many politicians seemed to be more concerned with the Supreme Chancellor’s favour than the livelihood of their own people.

Senator Clarana Fontari of Kabal was determinedly not in this category, but that was not a good thing. Kabal was an Outer Rim planet in the Mayagil sector, on the Sharlissian Trade Corridor, and although at least on the surface it supported the Republic, Padme was dubious. Their talk in several Senate debates had been defeatist, and she found their lack of faith disturbing. They had recently suffered food shortages which lead to riots, and Padme always had a bad feeling about them that they blamed the Republic for their misfortunes. Having secret Separatist sympathies was one thing, but betraying the Republic was another, and Padme had a strong suspicion that Senator Fontari was in the latter camp. She had created the pretence of a diplomatic mission over some excuse about trade relations between Kabal and Naboo.

“We are honoured by your reception, Senator Fontari,” Padme said, bowing her head low, as she was escorted into the Kabal Palace by a platoon of royal guardsman and a handful of handmaidens. At Padme’s side was the Jedi Ahsoka Tano, dressed in the garb of a Naboo servant, who was visibly there to serve Padme, but in reality was there to investigate the allegiance of Senator Clarana Fontario and Kabal.

“There is no need for such formality, Senator. We are merely women here. You may call me Clarana. Shall we continue our conversation in my quarters? Today is actually my scheduled beautician’s appointment, and I would be pleased to have you join me,” Senator Clarana said, with a thin smile. Padme was not surprised by this, as Clarana looked the part of a diva with her surgically-perfect features, flawless skin and fingernails and gorgeous figure in an elegantly-cut black dress that accentuated her curves nicely. Padme remembered the disturbing statistics of how many citizens of Kabal were impoverished, and found herself disliking this pampered Senator immediately. Padme wondered if she was being a hypocritical, considering the elegant garb she had chosen for this event – her hair was in a graceful ponytail as she donned a backless purple dress that reached her ankles. No, Padme decided. Needing to look respectable was one thing, but what this woman did stank of an abuse of power. Even so, Padme knew she should play nice for now.

“I appreciate the hospitality, Senator Clarana.”

“Take a seat, Senator Padme, if you will permit me to call you that. We have some of the finest masseuses in the galaxy,” Clarana nodded, as she sat in a plush reclining seat, and instructed her serving girls to undo her high-heels sandals to reveal a breathtakingly perfect pair of pale feet. Padme couldn’t detect a single imperfection on those tootsies, and she could only wonder how many credits had gone into that, as she settled into the comfortable massaging chair. She caught Ahsoka’s eye, and subtly jabbed her head to the side, a gesture that meant Ahsoka should commence her investigations.

“Would you like to remove your nylons, Ma’am?” one of the masseuses asked politely.

“I prefer to keep them on, thank you,” Padme said, shaking her head as she tried to keep her voice from quavering. “So Senator, how do you feel about the Chancellor’s latest policy?” she said, trying to make small talk. She felt the masseuse’s warm hands slide over her the soft soles of her feet, occasionally brushing along ticklish spots. She never let the ticklishness reach her lips though, of course.

Laughing at this Senator just would not do at all.


It had been about an hour, as Padme did her best impersonation of a concerned diplomat as she and Senator Clanara discussed politics and trade, but she knew her charade was up the second a guard came and whispered something frantic into Clarana’s ear.

“Oh, is that so? Wheel her in.”

The way she said ‘wheel her in’ sent shivers down Padme’s spine, and she soon saw that such fears were well justified. Padme saw a group of serving girls lead in Ahsoka who appeared to be bound to some kind of levitating stretcher that could be easily manipulated by movement. Ahsoka had a gag in her mouth, as well as a device around her neck which Padme recognized a Force-inhibitor. She got caught… Padme thought, as she felt a sick churning in her stomach as she realized she was stepping on very thin ice right now.

“I am very confused, Senator Padme, to discover your handmaiden snooping around my database,” Clarana said, as she snapped her fingers and a bound and gagged Ahsoka was brought in. “Now what am I to make of that? Is your handmaiden so rambunctious? We wouldn’t assume an esteemed Senator such as yourself would possibly commit such… espionage, so we must assume this little handmaid is acting on her own accord. And in Kabal, this is how we discipline our workers.”

The gentle touch upon Padme’s tender soles suddenly took on sinister implications as Padme watched Ahsoka squeal with high-pitched laughter as she was ‘disciplined’ by the gaggle of serving-girls. The massaging fingers upon her immaculate feet now felt positively ominous as Ahsoka twisted and spluttered with cackling laughter as she was poked and prodded all over her body by the hand-maidens.

“Not that I don’t respect Naboo’s… methods of training,” Clarana said, her tone indicating the opposite. “But I am the mistress of this household, so I hope you will permit me to handle things under my own roof,” Clarana leaned forward, and spoke softly. “You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

Padme stifled a gulp, as she looked around at the guards with blaster rifles at their hips. “Not at all.”

Clarana leaned back into her plushy chair. “I did not ask you to stop!” she barked suddenly, at the masseuse who was tending to her milky-white feet. “But yes, I thank you for your permission, Senator. Proceed!”

Padme could only mouth a silent apology as Ahsoka squealed into her gag again as the fingers began probing onto her body anew.

“One of our favourite methods is to condition the servant till obedience becomes second nature,” Clarana was saying, though Padme was only half-listening as she desperately tried to formulate a way to take off the Force nullifying-collar around Ahsoka’s neck. Padme grunted non-commitently as Clarana looked at her for a response.

“Perhaps a demonstration is in order, Senator, as I can see you look… dubious.” Dubious was not the word to describe Padme’s pained, conflicted expression as she saw Clarana stand up, slide her feet into her high-heeled sandals and stroll over to the bound Ahsoka, gesturing at the girls to lift Ahsoka’s nylon-clad soles to her face level.

“Senator, I must protest-”

“No need to get up, Senator, and I told you, please call me Clarana,” Clarana said, in a tone that broke no disagreement. “Sit back, and watch,” she said, as she traced her finely maintained nails down Ahsoka’s smooth soles in one rapid motion, noticing how to the toes immediately scrunched together.

“A very common reaction is to scrunch your toes,” Clarana said, as she nonchalantly scampered her nails up and down Ahsoka’s soles, tickling her with effortless strokes. “Many are frightfully ticklish in the gaps between there, so they want to hide their weakness by scrunching,” she said, as she tried poking at the flesh in between Ahsoka’s quivering toes, but Ahsoka’s toes remained clamped shut. “Yet with a bit of time, even such a reflex can be trained out of them.”

“Oh?” Padme said, trying to keep her composure as she noticed how red in the face Ahsoka was getting from the laughter – why did this keep happening?

“You look sceptical, Senator, allow me to show you a finished product,” Clarana said, pointing at a pair of serving-girls. The girls wore the white and black lacey uniform one commonly saw in palaces, and in a flash, both girls had stripped off their formal shoes and were dangling their stockinged soles in front of Padme’s face, and even the cool and collected Senator wasn’t quite sure how to respond to that.

“Tickle them,” Clarana said, and Padme, so unsure of what she could do, did. She quickly discovered that the girls were both astonishingly ticklish, and their skin felt very soft to the touch, which made Padme wonder sickeningly if Clarana made them undergo such ‘conditioning’ regularly. Their black nylons seemed to be amplifying their ticklishness too. The serving girl on the right, with the short blonde hair, had a breathy, whooping laughter that sounded like she was constantly hiccupping. The serving girl on the left, with the long black curls, was a cacophony of shrieks, squeaks and squeals. What both girls had in common was exceptionally ticklish feet, yet it seemed they were able to leave their feet in place on Padme’s lap as if they were chained to the spot. Their laughter rose in pitch and volume as Padme tickled harder (at Clarana’s insistent behest) but true to Clarana’s word, their twitching toes never curled down once. All the while Padme was tickling the two handmaidens, the massages to her own soles continued, though Padme found it impossible to relax when any moment the massage could take on a decidedly ticklish turn.

“Tickle them right in the toes, right where it’s bad,” Clarana said, her voice a little breathless. Padme felt like the poor girls had already had enough, but every moment she was tickling them was a moment Ahsoka could rest, so she pressed on, drilling her fingertips into the gaps between their curiously-immobile toes. The laughter shot up even more, till their melded together to form some kind of frantic chorus of mirth, but even as Padme scratched and wiggled her nails right along the devastatingly-ticklish undersides of the toes, they did not move. Still, the toes remained still as Padme’s fingers tormented those sensitive gaps. Padme couldn’t imagine keeping her toes in line if her own most ticklish spots were teased like this, and felt a chilling respect for these girls, as well as a bit of fear in what they must have been through to become so well-trained.

“I can see you’re enjoying yourself, Senator Padme. It’s quite a thrill, isn’t it?” Clarana said, waving a hand and the girls, visibly relieved, pulled their soles off Padme’s lap and back into their shoes. Within moments they were back in formation, though still a bit breathless from their ordeal.

“That was the finished product, now let me show you how to train your wilful servant…” Clarana said, as she wiggled her fingers an inch away from Ahsoka’s squirming soles. “I command you not to scrunch your feet, if you do…” Clarana snapped her fingers, and Ahsoka exploded with laughter as the cluster of servants around her suddenly dove in simultaneously, tickling her with a powerful ferocity at feet, sides, ribs, underarms, stomach and everywhere else they could get to with their questing fingers.

“Senator Clarana, there really is no need…”

“Let me finish. Now that you understand the stakes…” Clarana said, waving at the girls who immediately ceased their attacks. “Let’s begin…” she began just by using one finger on each sole, lightly scratching at the ball of the foot and the arch as Ahsoka desperately tried to resist the urge to flail her toes.

“You’re holding up well…” Clarana said, with a cold smile as she added more fingers to the mix, till she was now lightly flicking up and down Ahsoka’s soles with all ten of her fingers. Ahsoka was giggling uncontrollably now, and her toes twitched constantly, but they had yet to curl. Padme felt the masseuse who was still rubbing her feet accidentally brush across a ticklish spot, and shuddered as she realized this must be a tenth of what Ahsoka was feeling.

“ENOUGH!” Padme said, as she stood up, nudging aside the masseuse with her nyloned foot. “I really must put my foot down, Senator. I’ve seen enough.”

“As have I,” Clarana said. “You really think I didn’t know?”

Padme had a bad feeling about this, but there was always the chance the Senator of Kabal was just bluffing… probing to see if Padme would give herself away. “Didn’t know what?”

“Your Jedi friend here. And that you two are here to spy on me, simple as that. Well, I’ll be happy to clarify things for you,” Clarana said, as she beckoned to her guards, who aimed their blaster rifles at the Senator. “I intend to give you as big as dose as your little Jedi friend here, and then hand you over to Count Dooku.”

“The Senate will not stand for this. Do you expect to get away with this? The torturing and abduction of a Senator!”

“Torturing?” Clarana paused, as she put a finger on her lower lip. “I’m merely being a good host, and allowing you access to my personal spa. It’s not my fault if you happen to be a bit ticklish! Oh girls! Please give the Senator a bit more service. Give her a nice thorough, deep-tissue massage!” Padme felt herself being pushed back into the massage chair, only with the guards using hand-cuffs to bind her arms firmly above her head. The girls swarmed around her, and Padme could see that the two she had tickled earlier under Clarana’s orders seemed particularly eager for revenge, though she hadn’t even wanted to tickle them at all in the first place (well, maybe a little).

Padme immediately broke into peals of laughter as her ‘massage’ began. The fingers probed and stroked expertly, as Padme’s receptive and ticklish body quickly yielded ticklish ground. There were six of them, so Padme’s resistance faltered quickly under such a multiple-pronged attack to so many ticklish spots on her torso and legs.

“It is so nice to see you thrashing and giggling like this… the mighty Senator Padme Amidala… you have no idea how many badly I hated you for all the times you belittled us in the Senate. But guess what? The noble planet of Kabal is not standing for it any long. We are seceding to the Separatists, and you will be my welcome gift to Count Dooku.”

“Let’s move you to the dungeons so I can give you a proper welcome…


Padme barely remembered the past few hours as the handmaidens had tickled her senseless all over her body, as Clarana sat in the chair alongside her, tittering as she watched the show, while her own foot massage continued – a cruel juxtaposition of pleasure and ticklish suffering.

It had seemed Padme had spent a hazy-tickled filled eternity in that massage chair that had stopped being soothing and refreshing a long time ago, but now she was acutely aware the tickling had stopped, as she was shuffled off to the dungeons for the torment to begin in earnest. She had a dim awareness of time, it might have been four hours since she stepped foot on Kabal? Time was important, because Padme had not been foolish enough not to prepare a contingency plan, considering how poor her tickle-related luck seemed to be these days. It just seemed like she was constantly getting into this kind of stickysituation! Thus, she had come well-prepared with an auxiliary plan. She had contacted her Naboo captain of guard, and he knew to send the Naboo fleet to Kabal if he did not hear from her in six hours. As long as she wasn’t off-planet by then, she had faith in her troops to save her from her current predicament. She just had to hold out and keep Senator Clarana distracted till the cavalry could arrive.

Of course, exactly how Padme could distract Clarana was another matter entirely, as in her current bondage it seemed like all she could do was laugh her head off. They had kept her in her gorgeous purple dress, which meant she would at least look quite pretty when she was being tickled silly. Her arms were stretched high above her head in the metal stockade, and her feet, which were still clad in her pretty black nylons, were bound securely in the mechanical frame. All her toes on both of her feet were snagged, and not only were they restrained, but they were tightly held back. She could just barely close her toes, leaving her immaculate soles and the underside of her toes completely helpless. Padme wondered if Clarana was going to try to condition her to control her toes too.

Padme’s head snapped to the side as she heard the clacking of high heels echo across the sparse and featureless room.

“You know, the Count offered me a selection of Interrogation Droids. This new prototype called the TK unit. It’s off entertaining your Jedi friend next door. I’m tempted to sit back and enjoy watching it tickle you senseless,” Clarana said, as she walked alongside the bound Padme, poking her in the sides as she made her way to Padme’s soles, making the brunette gasp. “But it’s just too… impersonal. It’s far too impersonal for me, and I want delicious revenge on you, Senator. I will be salivating every second of this.”

Padme bit her lip as she felt fingernails began to tease the pale undersides of the toes of her right foot.

“Right in the toes… you wouldn’t happen to be ticklish there, would you, Senator?”

“That’s… nothing. You’re a lousy tickler, Clarana,” Padme said, trying to goad the Senator. It actually tickled quite terribly, but Padme wasn’t about to give Clarana the satisfaction – she was going to try to be defiant for as long as she could and put up a fight. She just had to hold out…

Clarana swore under her breath, and began scratching her fingers harder and harder into the sensitive flesh of Padme’s soles, but Padme refused to laugh. She gritted her teeth and balled into fists, which seemed to abate the tickling sensations somewhat.

“Come on, I know you’re ticklish, laugh!” Clarana yelled, as if by saying it aloud it could magically become true. Still, Padme persisted, though giggles occasionally spilled out of the corner of her mouth. Clarana’s technique and her manicured nails were actually disturbingly effective on Padme’s poor, ticklish, nylon-clad feet, but Padme still held on, somehow. Clarana was doing something she had never experienced before, as she teased Padme’s left foot by slowly running a single finger in a spontaneous pattern across her arches while the other hand was a hurricane of movement as it scratched at every inch of her right foot in a ferocious flurry of tickling. Dealing with two distinctly different styles of tickling was incredibly hard to adapt to, especially as Clarana would switch feet occasionally, so the right foot was being slowly tantalized while the left foot was brutalized, but Padme managed to keep her reactions under control. Had she been tickled so much recently that she had gotten used to it?

Padme could feel Clarana’s frustration. So she let loose a strategic laugh, and right when Clarana’s beautiful, well-sculpted face looked at her with a gleeful victory in her eyes, Padme spoke:

“It doesn’t tickle, I’m just laughing at you.”

“Argh!” Clarana cried, standing up violently and storming off towards the exit. “I’m coming back with tools,” she said, before adding forebodingly. “And I will make you scream for mercy.”

“Bring it on,” Padme said. Before sighing in relief as the door shut behind Clarana. She had survived the first round, but what would come next.

How was Ahsoka doing?


Ahsoka was not doing well.

She had never been tickled by the ruthless, impersonal touch of a droid before, and she definitely determined she did not like it within minutes. The pair of hovering, black orb-like TK units that were tormenting her were coldly precise as they pushed all her buttons. She was strapped to an X-frame that held her parallel to the ground, lying on her back and staring the white ceiling above her as the two droids wreaked havoc on her ticklish body. Ahsoka’s maid outfit had been stripped off, though her nylons remained as the droids seemed to have determined they would only amplify her ticklishness.

By craning her head, she could get a glimpse at the two black spheres who were the most diabolical ticklers she had ever encountered, but Ahsoka preferred not to watch them – there was nothing as acutely frustrating as being able to watch the torture but being utterly powerless to stop it. And wanting it to stop Ahsoka desperately did, as there was none of the playful tickling as the droids probed and prodded all over the various ticklish hotspots on her body.

The droids were equipped with a set of claws, which resembled hands with long, ceramic-alloy nails that tickled far more intensively than fingernails, as they seemed to vibrate and buzz about distractingly to enhance their scratchy, tickle-inducing touch. These claws were more limited than human hands, mainlypoking and stroking, as they seemed unable to calculate the dexterity required to squeeze or knead flesh, but that was a small consolation, as the droids seemed content to focus mainly on the spots where stroking and poking were most effective, namely the soles of Ahsoka’s feet and her sides.

The sides were at least in theory, semi-tolerable, as Ahsoka’s sides had never been a particular bad location for her. It was more annoying as a reflex, as each poke to her sides would make her spasm and jolt, and when both sides of her belly were poked in unison it would make her hips jump off the frame like she was riding a horse.

The feet on the other hand, were another matter entirely. Ahsoka’s toes her been looped back by some kind of cord-like material, so her entire sole lay taut and immobile, with her toes stretched back. She was grateful that she wouldn’t be undergoing the Kabal Senator’s ‘conditioning’ any further, but allowing the droids unfettered access to the heinously ticklish spaces between her toes was very, very bad. She was nicknamed Tickle Toes Tano for a reason, after all…

And the claws of the droids were so very good at tickling her there, almost as if their appendages had been designing solely to torment ticklish toes. With Ahsoka’s toes helpless to do anything more than quiver, it was pure Pazaak for the droids to focus their vibrating fingernails around every inch of those toes. The bases, under the toes, and even the tips of the toes all felt the fierce vibrations of those mechanical fingernails as Ahsoka roared with desperate laughter.

She remembered what Padme had said about it only being a matter of time. They would be rescued before long. They just had to persevere and hold out a little longer…

Of course, it was easier said than done, when you had nefarious implements of tickle torture sliding through the impossibly-ticklish gaps between your toes.

Ahsoka hoped Padme was holding up better.


Padme was still holding up, despite herself. Clarana’s face was stern and cruel, and the pair of feathers she brandished were crueller still, but Padme was still holding up. The feathers traced a devastating path up and down her nylon-clad soles, and sawing underneath her toes, but Padme still hadn’t broken yet. Padme was giggling – she was too ticklish on her stockinged feet to not laugh at all, but her laughter lacked the desperation that Clarana craved.

“You’re tough, Senator, I’ll give you that, but I will break you…” Clarana growled as she continued to twirl the feathers up and down Padme’s quivering soles, but Padme’s tinkling laughter still sounded mocking to her.

“Your mahahahassage tickled mohohohore than this!” Padme said, as tears of laughter welled into her eyes. It was a lie, of course, but she was rather enjoying being the provocateur and being so recalcitrant. Clarana was almost looking more haggard than she was, as she gritted her teeth and tried so hard to tickle Padme into helpless hysterics, but to no avail. Padme’s spirit was strong, and no amount of feathers could break that resolve.

“Why? You’re so ticklish, but why won’t you let me beat you?” Clarana snarled, after another fruitless attempt to make Padme break. She threw the feathers down in frustration as Padme panted for breath and began to formulate a suitably witty response.

“Maybe you just aren’t as good as you think you are,” Padme smiled cheekily. “By tickling me now, I will become more powerful than you could possibly imagine,” she said, not even sure what she was babbling about. If it confused Clarana, that was the most important thing.

“I’ve had enough of this,” Clarana shouted angrily, as she stood up and began making her way to the door. “Dooku can have you, you’re no fun at all.”

Padme felt a prickle of worry. She didn’t know if her reinforcements were here yet. If she was shipped off-world…

“What are you, a coward? Giving up already? You’re pathetic!”

With a howl of rage, Clarana tore into Padme’s soles again with her long fingernails, and after a few minutes Padme felt one set of fingernails leave her feet to wander up to torment the belly button. The combination was a grudgingly effective one, as Clarana teased Padme’s dainty left foot with one hand, and her belly button with the other. Clarana wasn’t oblivious to the effectiveness of the technique, so she quickly abandoned the nyloned feet altogether and went full force into the stomach with her long fingernails. The ribs and armpits were next, as the Senator of Kabal explored Padme’s torso. Padme’s laughter gave Clarana confidence, and the cruel little taunts and mockery came again, but all Padme could hear was the ticking of the clock as time trickled away.

There was a knock on the door right when Clarana was dipping a fingernail into Padme’s belly button.

“What the hell do you want? Don’t you see I’m busy?” Clarana said, as she opened the door and saw the guard waiting outside.

“W-we have an urgent message for you, Mistress Fontari,” the guard stuttered. “There is a fleet orbiting Kabal-“

“Is it Dooku? Patch him through.”

“It’s Naboo… and they’ve brought the Republic Fleet with them. There are Jedi starships too…”

Padme smiled. Anakin. She knew it had to be him. She knew he could never sit back in a situation like this. It was one of the things she most admired about him.

“I think you'd better release me, Senator. You’ve had your fun.”

Clarana glared at Padme and then glared at the guard.

“You played me, didn’t you?” she said, staring daggers at Padme. “Fine, release her!” she barked at the guard. “But this is not the end for me and you, Senator Padme Amidala. We will meet again, and I will break you. This is only the beginning…”

“This is only the beginning,” Padme agreed, with a nebulous smile. “Soon, the circle will be complete, and I’ll be showing you how to tickle.”



Star Wars TK: Ahsoka IV

(This takes place at an indeterminate time during the Clone Wars.)
Star Wars TK: Mandalore Mirth


Uncover the plot. Stop the enemies. Save the Duchess. It had sounded so simple the way she had been debriefed, thought Ahsoka Tano as she crept through the forestry woodlands of the planet Mandalore. At her side was Master Luminara, the Mirialan Jedi General. She was a stern and dutiful Jedi, handy to have in a fight, but Ahsoka wouldn't exactly have described her as entertaining company. Her skill with her green lightsaber and her flexibility in combat was renowned, and Ahsoka supposed that would matter more than an entertaining disposition in the battle to come, and there would be a battle – she could feel it in her bones.

Master Luminara slunk ahead of her, occasionally gesturing with a finger for the Padawan to follow. Luminara wore her flowing black and brown Jedi robes with their ornate markings along with her signature dark headdress. She followed the traditional facial markings of her people, and accentuated this serious look with black lips and black fingernails. With her pale lime-green skin, she was almost camouflaged in these shrubby woods, making Ahsoka feel very conspicuous about her orange skin. Ahsoka wore her usual brown and black outfit - a skin-tight uniform with high boots, and her familiar brown gauntlets, so at least she was well-suited for combat.

They had been trekking for hours now, as they searched for the elusive Death Watch camp. Death Watch were a band of Mandalorian extremists, who despised the pacifistic Duchess Satine and sought to dispose of her. Needless to say, the Jedi were not about the let that happen. The Mandalorians and Jedi had fought against each other since the days of the Old Republic, and Ahsoka had heard many a tale of their prowess in battle. She was as excited to meet them in combat as she was nervous. Ahsoka was planning a few witty one-liners to use during combat when a hand gesture from Master Luminara stopped her in her tracks.

They both stopped, as they listened carefully. All Ahsoka could hear was the rustling leaves or the calls of wild beasts, but clearly Master Luminara had heard something as she suddenly made a beeline north.

After a few minutes of walking, just when Ahsoka was somewhat doubting the perceptions of Master Luminara, they came across the outskirts of a large clearing in the forest. They could see a group of Mandalorians gathered around a captured, screaming woman and laughing amongst themselves. The Jedi quickly hid themselves to avoid being seen, as they silently observe the jeering crowd of Mandalorians soldiers. Duchess Satine had mentioned sending envoys into the forests to try to negotiate with the extremists, but from the sounds of things, the negotiations for this female envoy had gone poorly. Their view was obstructed, but there was no mistaking the forced laughter that came bellowing from the envoy’s lips. It was a frantic laughter born out of sensitivity and cruelty.

There was a loud, hard voice bellowing a speech, and the Jedi paused to listen.

“The Duchess sends one of her whimpering dogs to us, desiring a ceasefire! Is it the Mandalorian way to surrender like some meek Kath-pup?” the speaker shouted, and the crowd roared like a heard of Bomba beasts.

Ahsoka scampered up a nearby tree to try to get a better look, ignoring the cautions of Master Luminara.

From her vantage spot, Ahsoka was able to see more clearly what was happening now. A horde of Mandalorian soldiers were clustered around the screeching woman in the centre who was clearly the missing envoy. The insignia on her chest made that rather clear, as well as her dignified attire, or what remained of it, anyway. The brown-haired envoy, with her hair tied back in a ponytail looked like a mess as she lay in what appeared to be a set of makeshift wooden stocks. Her arms are bound above her head, and her boots had been ripped off, and her black stockings seemed to be in tatters, showing off a great deal of bare skin. Theyalso appeared to be covered by some kind of syrupy amber substance. The cause of this shredded footwear was growling alongside her.

Positioned at the squawking envoy’s feet was a Kath hound, which licked the syrup off her feet as the helpless brown-haired envoy in the stocks howled with laughter. The Mandalorians standing around teased and taunted her, obviously enjoying the spectacle. The Kath hound was about the size of a large dog, fur-covered, only it had two toes on each of their four cloven hooves. Its tongue seemed longer and more bristly than the average dog’s tongue too, as it slurped and lapped at the ticklish meal in front of it.

“Will we surrender? No! We are not spineless cowards who are not fit for the Mandalorian name! We are the Death Watch, descendants of the true warrior faith all Mandalorians once knew.”

“What is happening to that poor woman?” Master Luminara muttered, as the woman’s shrieks of mirth grew louder still.

“Tickling,” Ahsoka answered, the word sending a shiver down her spine. She could see patches of the envoy’s bright pink soles where the syrupy substance has been licked away, and they looked like they are becoming more sensitive by the second.

“Should we fear weaklings like this?” the Mandalorian speaker said, pointing to the envoy again as the Kath hound lapped at her twitching toes. A great roar of “no!” came from the group.

“We will not abandon our heritage. Our people were warriors. Strong. Feared! Now we're ruled by the New Mandalorians who think that being a pacifist is a good thing. They've given away our honor and tradition for peace. Duchess Satine and her corrupt leadership are crushing our souls, destroying our identity. And we shall fight for what is right! And we shall show them what happens to weaklings!" the Mandalorian speaker bellowed again, as he stroked his pet.

The captive envoy continued to scream hysterically as her feet are mercilessly tickled by the Kath hound's long, moist tongue. Her wiggling feet thrash about wildly in what little space the stocks allow her, and her soles wereflushed bright red beneath the translucent syrup, but this gluttonous Kath hound was relentless and ever-hungry, so it did not stop licking them for a moment.

Ahsoka shuddered as she observed the Kath hound slowly lap away every inch of the syrupy substances from the envoy’s soles. She wondered how long the envoy must have been there; judging from the empty vials of honey on the ground, it has been a while.

“We should save her!” Ahsoka whispered harshly to Master Luminara, as she imagined being in the envoy’s position, to have her own super sensitive soles licked clean ever so slowly by that merciless tongue.

“You must be patient, Padawan… it would be too great a risk,” Luminara whispered back. Ahsoka turned away from the Jedi and watched as the Kath hound finished lapping the last drops of honey. The envoy’s solesgleamed with moisture as she panted desperately for breath. Then one of them produced a small glass vial containing more of the syrupy liquid!

"NOOOOOOOOO! PLEASE, NO MORE!" the envoy begged as she saw its contents, thrashing her feet helplessly in the stocks as the group of Mandalorians laughed sadistically amongst themselves.

The speaker poured the substance all over the envoy's glistening feet, snickering as the liquid slowly trickleddown, coating every inch of her soles and flowing in between her squirming toes.

“My Kath hound is as hungry… as hungry as I am vengeance,” the Mandalorian speaker smirked, as freshtears streaked the envoy’s face, and her whole body quivered wildly with uncontrollable laughter. Ahsoka, who had been in many a ticklish situation before, was acutely aware of what that envoy must have been going through, and decided she had seen enough. She knew what Anakin would do in her situation.

“I’m saving her,” she said stubbornly, as she unclipped her lightsaber from her belt.

“Padawan, wait!”

Ahsoka charged onto the field, lightsaber in hand. A quick force push shattered the flimsy stockade as the tortured woman kicked at the Kath hound and rolled away. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Luminara run out to meet the Mandalorians, burning blade in hand, but it wasn’t till she took a step into their camp and stepped on an electrifying stun-mine that she realized her folly.


Mirialan Jedi Master Luminara blinked, and slowly and groggily awakened from her involuntary slumber. As her blue eyes slowly adjusted to her surroundings, her first sights were far from encouraging. She found herself in what appeared to be a sparsely decorated tent, with boxes and cases scattered about intermittently. There were no windows and no furnishings except for the single chair Luminara sat in, plus a stool, and the room was clearly not designed for comfort.

The Jedi’s subsequent revelations only increased her trepidation of her situation.

Luminara’s arms were cuffed behind her back and attached to some kind of stake in the ground. Her body was tied to a stiff plastisteel chair with her nylon-clad feet elevated in front of her. With her ankles tied together, and her shoes removed and tossed to the side, Master Luminara definitely had a bad feeling about this. She tested her bonds, but they were tied securely, with the typical Mandalorian attention to detail.

There was a Mandalorian trooper in the room with her, but the second he saw Luminara stirring he swiftly exited the room. “Doubtless, off to prepare my welcoming party,” Luminara said aloud, with a cough. She closed her mouth as she realized she had just spoken – that wasn’t like her. Her mind felt so cloudy… like she was swimming in the clouds. She blinked and tried to clear her mind, as she tried to meditate, but it felt her heart was pounding too loudly in her chest for her to concentrate. She noticed the IV that was injecting a clear blue fluid into her arm. That would explain why the Jedi Master felt so… empty. Whatever it was the Mandalorians were pumping into her body, it was making her mind fuzzy and hazy, and she could hardly feel the force. Luminara closed her eyes, but every time she tried to focus herself, it all just seemed to slip away from her, like trying to remember a dream you had half-forgotten.

“Ahhh, it seems our guest has awoken. Did you enjoy your nap, Jedi?”

Master Luminara’s eyes snapped open, glaring at the Mandalorian who stood before her. It was a steely-eyed Mandalorian with flaming red hair. Her freckled face and sharp features might have been attractive in a certain light, but in her grey and blue Mandalorian armour she looked formidable and foreboding. An emblem on her armour marked her position as Lieutenant. Luminara remember her mission briefing – this had to be Bo Katan Kryze, a fanatic to the Mandalorian cause. There would be no negotiating with this one.

She took a deep breath as she tried to centre herself, hard as it was feeling so numb to her omnipresent companion, The Force.

"I want to know what you were doing here. And you shall tell me,” the Mandalorian said. It was not a question.

“I won’t tell you anything that could put lives at risk,” Luminara said indignantly. “A Jedi would rather die than give information to murderers like you.”

Bo shrugged. “You’ll change your mind. I had our resident chemist whip up something for you two Jedi.” Two Jedi? Ahsoka… Luminara did not doubt she could withstand any torture these Mandalorians could inflict on her, but the idea of young Ahsoka being tormented by these monsters…

“And she stirred up quite the stims cocktail for you two girls – Truth serum to loosen your tongues, tranquilizers to block the Force, and a whole host of other goodies,” Bo Katan said, with a wide grin.

“We’re not afraid of you. We are Jedi,” Luminara said, inhaling slowly. There was no death, there was the Force. She would not allow herself to betray the Republic, no matter what stims they pumped into her body.

“Jedi have their breaking point… and without the Force… you’re only human – or Mirialan, in your case,” Bo Katan said, as she took a seat on the stool in front of Luminara’s nylon-covered feet.

Luminara wiggled her toes nervously as she noticed the predatory look on Bo Katan’s face –the Mandalorian was staring hungrily at her soles. Her feet were well-shaped, soft but very large and a lighter-shade of yellowish green than the rest of her body. She painted her nails black, to match her fingernails as per Mirialian tradition. She had no idea why the Mandalorian was looking so intensely at her feet, or why even her boots had been removed, but she quickly got her answer.

The Jedi Master was unable to mask the shudder that went through her body as Bo Katan reached out andtraced down the sole lightly with a single gloved finger.

“Ticklish, Jedi?”

Bo Katan’s steely eyes met Luminara’s wide blue eyes, and began tickling even harder – now there was one finger on each sole. Luminara bit her lip as the giggles threatened to break from her lips – she had never imagined being so ticklish, or that she was even ticklish at all. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had touched her in such a way. It didn’t even make sense that she would be so sensitive; surely all the training she did would have desensitized her feet!

“The stims we gave you… one of them amplifies the receptiveness of skin to sensation. But I bet you can feel that, eh?”

Luminara definitely could, as her foggy mind conspired against her, her willpower rapidly eroding as the gloved hands continued their dance along her wiggling, nylon-clad soles. She caught herself grinning once or twice, but even that was shameful for the composed Jedi warrior.

It didn’t take long for cracks to appear in her vaunted Jedi discipline – the gloved fingers just kept probing, probing, probing. Luminara wiggled her long toes furiously to try to take her mind off the sensations, but it didn’t seem to do any good at all. Bo-Katan just kept adding more and more fingers and more and more fuel to the ticklish fire than was growing from embers to an inferno with worrying speed. The pyroclastic sensations came to their melting point as Bo-Katan’s gloved hands began scratching insistently at the top of the heels, right where the heel met the arch. It was like a heap of firewood had been hoisted onto a dying flame, as Luminara closed her eyes and stopped for a moment as her brain started to process the new stimulus; then a shriek, and a burst of explosive laughter erupted from her. Luminara’s voice possessed an older feminine edge which made Bo-Katan smile as she tickled the base of the arches on one foot and then the other. The composed and mature Jedi Master was now nigh-devoid of composure as she threw her head back and roared with helpless laughter. The stimulants had stoked her sensitivity, and Bo-Katan’s masterful fingers had burned away what resistance remained. Bo-Katan tickled faster, and faster, till Luminara felt like her slender soles were aflame with sensations, and then suddenly pulled away, as the Jedi Master panted like she had just been training for hours.

“I bet you’re wondering… why tickling?”

Bo-Katan stood up, rubbing her gloved hands together. She looked at the seated and bound Mirialan Jedi Master with a smile.

"It's a tradition that stretches all the way back to Mandalore the Preserver. Why even Revan and the Jedi Exile, Meetra Surik experienced it. It tests endurance, strength, and one's ability to withstand interrogation... It's an invaluable practice,” Bo-Katan nodded solemnly.


“I bet you’re wondering… why tickling?”

At the opposite end of the Mandalorian camp, in a similarly sparse and spartan hut, Ahsoka Tano lay seated in the same predicament as her Jedi companion. Ahsoka recalled the briefings – the brown-haired Mandalorian warrior who was tickling Ahsoka’s dark stocking-clad feet with a toothbrush in one hand and a feather in the other was called Sooza, Bo-Katan’s right-hand woman. Sooza’s knowledge of stims and poisons gave her a fearsome reputation, and although her grey and black Mandalorian armour looked plain and unassuming, she was one of the most dangerous members of Death Watch. Clone intelligence reports had neglected to mention her love of tickle-torture too, Ahsoka thought, grumbling as the Death Watch interrogator and chemical expert answered her own question.

“Our leaders give us fancy tales of valour and honour and tradition, but it is all nonsense,” Sooza said, dismissively, as she continued to work her pair of tools all over Ahsoka’s flapping, scrunching soles. A toothbrush was bad enough on its own, but combined with a feather, it was like having one foot dipped in scalding water while the other was dipped in freezing water. The juxtaposition of sensations made the torture all the more unbearable. The bristly, devastating circular motions of the toothbrush along the pads of Ahsoka’s tender toes, already made her want to yank her foot out of its socket, but the slithery, slick feather lapping up and down the high arch of her other foot doubled and tripled the ticklish intensity. The overflowing of sensations along Ahsoka’s smooth nylon-clad soles, combined with the stims that were making her head swim, were making the Togruta Jedi practically wet herself with laughter. “They say it’s been around for ages, and blah blah blah, and they’ve only recently ‘reclaimed this part of our heritage’ and yadda yadda yadda,” Sooza said, as she continued to work her tools in effortless tandem – now it was the brush scrubbing Ahsoka’s arches while the feather snaked around the toes. “They use tickling in the trials now because I told them to.”

Ahsoka let out an incoherent squeal, which Sooza interpreted as a response of shock and surprise.

“You doubt me, do you? Understandable…” Sooza said, as she continued her casual tone of voice, as if she and Ahsoka were enjoying a pleasant conversation at a café on Coruscant, instead of Sooza ruthlessly tormenting every inch of Ahsoka’s ticklish stocking-clad soles. “They said it was silly… till I made showed them what tickling could do… I’m the only one here who knows how to make high-quality stims, so getting my way was easy. How are the stims, by the way?” Sooza said, suddenly stopping her tickling of Ahsoka’s feet to check on the flow of stimulants. She fiddled with them for a second, then immediately hopped back to Ahsoka’s sensitive soles, sending the Togruta into a new steady stream of squeaks and squeals.

“I’ve undergone rigorous testing on these stims, so do let me know if you feel dissatisfied with them,” Sooza said, with mock sweetness. “I want super-duper ticklishness! Haha, but something tells me these tootsies were ticklish even before then,” Sooza giggled, as she continued her lethally ticklish wielding of brush and feather. “Has anyone ever told you that you have very ticklish toes?”

“Yehehehehehes!” Ahsoka said, closed her eyes as laugher burbled out of her.

“Let me tell you about my own trial… oh, what a night that was…” Sooza said wistfully, as she dusted the feather along the tops of Ahsoka’s black nylon-clad soles while tapping at the soles with the brush.


“Let me tell you about my own trial… oh, what a night that was…” Bo-Katan said fearfully, as she wiggled her fingers wildly against the arches of both of Luminara’s black stockinged feet at once.

“I still remember my own trial strongly. A hundred pull-ups while my underarms were feathered," Bo-Katan said, suddenly stopping her attack on Luminara's feet for a minute to reach for the Jedi's underarms instead, digging in haphazardly. "If my arms weren't entirely straight, the rep would not be counted. If my feet touched the floor, I'd have to start from zero. Did I mention they were tickling my bare feet at the time too?" Bo-Katan said, suddenly reaching back to tickle Luminara's feet with one hand while teasing her armpit with the other.

"It. Was. Torture. What you're getting is practically light in comparison," Bo-Katan chuckled, as she continued teasing Luminara's two ticklish spots simultaneously. “But they say the trials show a warrior’s true calling. It showed them all my ability to lead. ”

“Whahahat kind of leheheader are you! Leader of muhuhurderers!” Luminara tried to say, but her words only fanned the flames as Bo-Katan tickled her even more ferociously.

“All I want to hear from you, is what are the Republic’s plans. Talk, or laugh.”


“I still remember my own trial strongly. Five hundred sit-ups while my tummy was teased," Sooza explainedjubilantly. “Oh, what a night that was! It really was such fun.” The Mandalorian reached forward to give Ahsoka’s stomach an experimental squeeze, and was delighted by the results. “They say the trials show a warrior’s true calling. It definitely showed me mine – interrogation. I’ve been in this chair enough to know just how to make it unbearable,” Sooza said with a laugh.

“I envy you, Jedi. Getting your limits pushed like this… oh, how I would love to be in your shoes… well, you aren’t wearing shoes, but you get my meaning,” Sooza purred. Ahsoka’s bubbly laughter spouted from her again, like an overflowing fountain.

“It’s a shame you can’t tickle yourself… it’s one of my… fantasies to be tickled by a master of this elusive art. A shame the second best in Death Watch is Bo-Katan, and to be honest, she’s very amateurish. I mean, she doesn’t even remove her gloves, for Mandalore’s sake! And only ever uses her fingers… how boring. Wait, you won’t tell her I said that, will you?” Sooza said with a devilish smile, using the line as an excuse to tickle Ahsoka even harder.

“You won’t, right? Promise me you won’t!” Sooza said, with a cruel glint in her eyes as the tools in her hands flew over Ahsoka’s shaking, quivering soles.

“It really is quite hard to use two such different tools at the same time, you know. You captives are all the same – so ungrateful! I’d say scrubbing with the brush while stroking with the feather is the tickling equivalent of patting your head while rubbing your stomach! Harder than it sounds! But I bet you have no appreciation for that!”

Ahsoka wondered if this mad Mandalorian’s nonsensical ramblings were part of her interrogation strategy, but she was too sweaty and sore to think, and the stims flowing though her veins made her head swim. The relentless flood of sensations blew over her, like a tsunami, as Ahsoka’s laughed and laughed. This Sooza was probably insane, but she was damn good with those tools of hers – she had even discovered how ticklish the gaps between Ahsoka’s toes were, and the bases of those slender, agile toes. Now they were constantlyoverrun by wave after wave of ticklish attacks.

“Now fun as this is, little Jedi, my lieutenant wants to know about the Republic plans, so whenever you’re ready, let’s hear it. Or you just keep laughing that sweet, girly laugh of yours, I honestly don’t mind...”


Though her eyes were stained with tears, Luminara could see that it was nightfall from a rip in the tent. Bo-Katan and a somewhat-less-skilled subordinate had launched a barrage of ticklish attacks on her ticklish soles and body. The blazing, roaring sensations that had rampaged through her ticklish body had never had a chance to cease, and Luminara was grateful for this first true break. They had loaded her up with stims to induce sleep before departing, as they didn’t want the wily Jedi Master escaping, but Luminara was not worried.

As Luminara huffed and puffed for breath, as she felt her mind shutting down from all the stims flowing through her system, she still found the strength for a triumphant smile. She flexed the bonds around her arms and she pulled a hand free. The sweat from her desperate struggles had acted as a lubricant, and the nimble and flexible Jedi had managed to free a hand. She plucked the IV from her arm quickly, and paused, waiting for the Force to come back, pulsing through her body like a warm flame.

“Never underestimate a Jedi.”


Through the maelstrom of sensations, Ahsoka could see that the sun had fallen from a gap in the tent’s door. Sooza had stayed with her the entire day, tormenting every single one of her toes, moving up to harass her mid-section, before going back down to play with Ahsoka’s toes and feet again. Sooza skipped off, the crazy Mandalorian promising her that they would have a lot more fun tomorrow.

Although Ahsoka’s throat burned from all the forced laughter, and her eyes were heavy from her tiring day, she knew not to be disenchanted – it wasn’t over yet. Sooza, for all her chemical knowledge, had made a miscalculation. Maybe it was her age, all the energy she had expanded writhing against her bonds, her Togruta biology, or her midi-chlorian count, but the stims Sooza had injected had lost their bite hours ago. She was far from one hundred percent, but the Force wasn’t blocked off from her entirely. Ahsoka closed her eyes, focused and flicked her fingers – the tube injecting the Force-stopping Stims popped out, and clattered to the floor. Ahsoka smiled. Now she just had to wait for the stims to clear her system.

“Never underestimate a Jedi.”

It was later that evening, when a Mandalorian trooper came to check on the captive Jedi, that Luminara sprang her escape plan. The shrewd Jedi Master closed her eyes and feigned sleep till the trooper walked closer, and then suddenly stood up. She had disposed of the binds trapping her to that accursed chair long ago.

“You will tell me where the other Jedi is,” Luminara said, waving her hand. The mind trick was an invaluable weapon in any Jedi’s arsenal. With any luck, if this Mandalorian hadn’t undergone mental training, he would agree to whatever was being said to them without being able to think for himself. As a Jedi Guardian, Master Luminara had always been more potent in combat-oriented abilities, but she expected she should be able to dominate the mind of some random grunt.

“I will…” the Mandalorian mumbled softly, as if choking, and then suddenly shouted. “Not!” He reached for his communicator. “The Jedi is loose at prison A, repeat, the Jedi is-” The reminder of the Mandalorian’s sentence was muffled by the sound of a heavy, Force-guided, plastisteel container smashing him in the face.

“So we do this the hard way,” Luminara muttered as she pulled a stun-baton from the trooper's belt - much better than those clunky blasters.

The trooper's back-up arrived distressingly quickly, with the typical Mandalorian efficiency that made them so difficult to dispatch. She ducked as a swarm of darts ripped into the wall of the tent behind her. The group of Mandalorians might have been able to keep her pinned down if not for a sudden explosion that tore a wide hole in the tent wall.

Of all people, it was Ahsoka, a pair of blazing lightsabers in hand. She tossed one to Luminara as she force-deflected a series of Darts intended to incapacitate her.

Lightsabers flashing, the two Jedi quickly carved a path outside the camp of horrors, dodging a hail of dart blasters from concealed and hovering Mandalorian snipers. It hurt her pride, but Luminara knew it was a fight they might not win, and she urged the headstrong padawan to retreat, who glared at her angrily yet relented.

"Calm yourself, Padawan... they will get their comeuppance," Luminara said sagely. "Be patient..."

Star Wars TK: Ticklish Investigations

(This takes place at an indeterminate time during the Clone Wars.)


It was a quiet day at the Jedi Temple, and Ahsoka Tano was meditating in the Room of a Thousand Fountains when the clacking of high-heeled shoes drew her attention. No Jedi would be wearing shoes like that. She focused, and peering through the Force, she sensed a familiar presence.

“Senator! What brings you to the Jedi Temple today?”

“You know, it always creeps me out how you Jedi can do that,” Padme Amidala said, with a friendly smile as she entered the room, briefcase in hand.

“Good to see you too,” Ahsoka smiled, opening her eyes at the amiable face of the Senator from Naboo. “You looking for Anakin?”

The close friendship between Anakin and Padme had always seemed a bit fishy to Ahsoka, but she knew Anakin never liked it when she asked about it, so she kept her mouth shut.

“Not today. I’m actually looking for you,” Padme said, her lips pursing into a grim line. “I need your help. And Anakin doesn’t need to know.”

“What’s going on?”

Padme sighed, and popped open her briefcase and handed Ahsoka a datapad.“I’ve received news from an anonymous source that stolen Republic supplies are being held in a warehouse in a slum district. I want us to go check it out.” Padme looked down at the report with disgust. It felt like just the other week they had made a breakthrough by capturing the leader of black-market smugglers, but it seemed like already another gang had filled the void. Stealing donated supplies that were intended to go to the poorest of families in the Outer Rim was dishonourable beyond words.

“Us? Shouldn’t we let Anakin help?”

Padme’s hands curled into fists. “The stolen Republic supplies… it was funds that were supposed to go to outer rim charities. I fund-raised for them. It’s my responsibility to know what kind of monsters would take money meant for starving children.”

Ahsoka sighed. It was no surprised Anakin and Padme were so close – they were stubborn as a rancor. She knew that there would be no changing the Senator’s mind. If Ahsoka declined, there was always a chance Padme would just do this herself, which would only be even more risky. “I’ll help you… you have a plan, right?”

Padme nodded, an enthusiastic smile on her face. “Oh, they won’t know what hit them!”


It had started off so smoothly.

Ahsoka and Padme had met at the shady bar in downtown Coruscant, and they had discussed their plans. Ahsoka wore her wine-red infiltration suit, a skin-tight uniform with high boots and gloves with a white utility belt that was well-suited for combat. Padme’s attire was a fair deal less formal than the attire she tended to don as Queen of Naboo or as a senator. She wore her chestnut brown hair back in a ponytail, which matched the gritty style of the rest of the outfit – dark brown leather boots, light brown slacks with a holstered pistol at her hip, and a turtleneck under a red vest completed her look nicely. If no one looked at her too closely, she could definitely pass as a somewhat inordinately well-dressed bounty hunter. The two of them sat in the corner of the crowded bar, trying to ignore the tone-deaf Bith musicians as they sipped their drinks. Padme had not chosen The Pirata Trio purely for its service and ambience, as it was also where their mark was due to arrive. 

“Here we go, that’s the one,” Padme said, gesturing with her thumb as she looked away so it wasn’t so obvious.

“The man with the long hair and the hat?”

“The woman,” Padme whispered.

Ahsoka stared at the woman who had just walked in. She was pretty, her comely, exotic features clashing with her ragged brown mercenary armour. She had lustrous shoulder-length dark hair and dark red lipstick that would not look out of place on a Coruscant model, which was why the juxtaposition with the grim, dirt-brown and blood-red plate armour was all the more striking. It gave her a menacing, yet graceful air, like the type of natural-born killer who would murder you in the prettiest way possible. She had bad news written all over her.

“Who is she?”

“Intelligence says she goes by the name ‘Sulee’. She’s the head of a gang of smugglers. She has some silly nickname too, but I can’t quite remember what it is.”

“Sulee the silly?” Ahsoka offered.

Padme gave her a quick smile. “Possibly. But the plan is we follow her after she leaves, and see where she leads us.”

Ahsoka nodded. It was a simple enough plan, and simple plans for generally the safest.

Soon enough, Sulee and her associates finished their drinks and exited the bar. Ahsoka and Padme followed close behind, elbowing and barging their way through the overpopulated Coruscant streets as they tried to keep Sulee within sight.

“You really should pass a law in the Senate about overcrowding,” Ahsoka grumbled, as a Trandoshan almost bowled her over with his shoulder.

“You think I haven’t tried?” Padme said, as she glared back at a male Twilek who had ‘accidentally’ touched her butt when he jostled her.  

“Quick, we’re losing her!” Ahsoka said, as the dimunitive Togruta hopped up and saw their quarry ducking into a less-crowded side alley.

The two heroines waded their way through the crowd as quickly as they could, but it was still minutes before they arrived at the dark, dank alleyway. They slowly walked down the alleyway. Ahsoka had her lightsaber unlit, but in her hand. Padme had her blaster drawn.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” Ahsoka said, as she looked up and own. It was quiet. Too quiet.

“You should have a bad feeling about this,” a female voice said, as Ahsoka felt a prick in her neck as trio of tranquilizer darts hit in her neck and back.


“You know, it’s been a while since we last had guests, eh, boys?” Sulee said, inciting jeers and chuckles from her troops. Padme was handcuffed and unarmed, as she slumped on the floor in some remote warehouse that looked like the gang’s base of operations.

“Let me go right now! Do you know who I am?” Padme said, straightening up and trying to sound authoritative. She tried to give Sulee her best steely senate stare.

“I watch the holonets,” Sulee said, looking Padme right in the eyes unflinchingly.” Apologies if you feel like you aren’t given the proper respect, Senator, but my boys are  a bit rough around the edges!” she said, incurring more laughter and snickers from her gang. “And it looks like your Jedi pal won’t be able to save you! We have an understanding with some of the local authorities around here, and they were nice enough to loan us a Neural Disruptor. Ain’t that kind of ‘em?”

That can’t be! Ahsoka wouldn’t get caught... Padme thought, her heart pounding in her chest. Neural Disruptors were devices which had the ability to temporarily sever a Jedi’s connection to the Force, so if what this smuggler said was true…

“Anyway, Senator, I know you’re a busy lil’ lady and so am I, so I’ll cut to the chase,” Sulee said, waving a hand at her subordinates, and Padme felt a nervous pang in her chest as her fears were confirmed as a pair of grubby-looking gang members wheeled in Ahsoka. The young Togruta was defiant the whole way, but with her the disruptive collar around her neck and her wrists bound behind her back, there wasn’t much she could do. “We know the Jedi and Senate work together, and you put one of my neighbours out of business. Don’t get me wrong, she was a scheming vixen, and I’m happy to see her rot in jail, but I’ll be quite happy to take her merchandise off your hands.”

“Go to hell,” Padme spat.

“I have no doubt I’ll be going there at some point, but that’s beside the point,” Sulee smirked, flicking a lock of dark hair out of her face, as her crew snickered sycophantically. “I’ve read about you in the Holo-nets, Senator. It’s only because I respect you that my boys aren’t ripping out your fingernails,” Sulee said, her voice turning deadly serious. “Don’t mistake me for meanin’ you’ll be getting off easy, though. Strap ‘em in!”

Both of them were swiftly bound on a pair of large plasteel tables. They were tied eagle spread into shackles that were built into the tables – Sulee had evidently done this sort of thing before. Padme was expecting the worse as she felt coarse hands roughly pull off her thick combat vest and her high leather boots. The tables were slightly elevated, at around a 45 degree angle, so Padme had full view of her situation as Ahsoka was strapped opposite her . The tables had been placed opposite each other for some reason, as Sulee stood in the middle rubbing her gloved hands together.

“Boys, you know what to do,” Sulee said, spreading her arms wide. Let’s warm them up, shall we?”

Padme wasn’t quite sure what this meant, but as she felt half a dozen smirking smugglers make their way to her, wiggling their fingers. It soon came to her. The rumours she had heard about the new gang leader… They called her The Tickler.

The world exploded with ticklish sensations as fingers flew over Padme’s exposed and trapped body. The way she had been bound was making an unsettling amount of sense. With her limbs spread out like this, it was easier for her six tormentors to leisurely harass her in six different spots as they would not need to be closely bunched together. With her arms taut, and her body strapped snugly to the frame, Padme’s feeble attempts to twist and wiggle free would do little to half their ticklish onslaught.

The smugglers were clearly veterans at this, and Padme shuddered to wonder how many poor damsels in distress had found themselves strapped in this frame.

Two of them, a pair of humans with buzzcuts, were exploiting Padme’s exposed underarms, ten fingers spider-tickling in each one, sometimes teasing the edges before burying back into the centre. The thin material of Padme’s top provided a little resistance, but their strong hands and short fingernails still made their presence vividly felt.

Two more were occupying Padme’s torso. A bearded human with an eyepatch was squeezing all over Padme’s ribs, with an occasional incidental but not accidentally caressing of her breasts. The other smuggler, a green-skinned Twilek, had rolled up Padme’s shirt to allow easier access to her milky-white skin stomach, which he squeezed and tormented happily; smiling as he lustfully admired the sight of Padme’s abs.

The torso tickling made Padme the most indignant, but the foot tickling was by far the worse. Padme had worn tan stockings under her boots, and she swore they intensified the ticklish sensations.  They were tickling a sole each, and she could feel their short stubby fingernails as they scampered all over Padme’s nylon-clad soles quickly as if they were trying to cover the entire foot at once. It wasn’t the most precise approach, but combined with all the sensations from her upper body they were doing a tremendous job of overwhelming her with these mind-numbing ticklish sensations. Equally worse were all the snide comments and whispers she could hear from the men as they snickered at her vulnerability. Their taunts were almost worse than the torment itself.

Padme squeezed her eyes shut, feeling tears begin to form in her eyes as girlish laughter spilled from her lips uncontrollably. She had never imagined being this ticklish, nor that tickling could be this unbearable. She knew she was ticklish, of course, as Anakin sometimes liked to tickle her during their amorous moments, but she had never contemplated being in a situation like this.

Over the din of her own squeals and squeaks as the smugglers discovered more of her sweet spots, Padme could hear the howl of another person’s laughter. Surely that high-pitched laughter couldn’t be coming from Ahsoka! Padme opened her eyes, and to her surprise, Ahsoka seemed to be equally ticklish if not more so. Ahsoka was writhing about energetically against the plasteel table, but the shackles held firm as she swung her head back and forth. She had half a dozen of the smuggler’s gang-tickling her as well, and she also seemed to be regretting her decision to wear a pair of black nylons as Padme’s noticed her feet flapping and wiggling desperately, their toes constantly splaying open and closed, as the smugglers teased them with their rough touches.

"Okay, boys," Sulee said, clapping her gloved hands together. "I think ya'll have tortured them enough."

For a brief fleeting moment, Padme thought her torment might be at an end, but Sulee’s next words destroyed the new hope that had just formed in her heart.

"Let me show you how it’s done," Sulee grinned. "Ya'll stand back and watch a real tickle master."

Sulee made a great show of slowly pulling her gloves off, cracking her knuckles and strolling to Padme’s nylon-clad feet, which had already been reddened and sensitized by the earlier attacks. She had long, manicured, black-painted fingernails.

The room was silent, aside from muttered curses from Ahsoka as they all watched Sulee walk towards Padme, the clacking of her high-heeled boots echoing across the room. 

She stared Padme right in the eyes, and Padme could read the mischievous malice in her striking brown eyes. “Cootchie cootchie coo, Senator.”

Padme’s breath caught in her throat for a minute, as she felt those fingernails hit the smooth, soft soles of her feet, and she was dismayed to discover that Sulee had not been bluffing. She was an expert tickler.

Unlike her keen-but-unskilled assistants, Sulee was intimately aware of how brute speed and force would not necessarily translate to efficacy, as she launched a varying attack that seemed to make Padme’s feet more and more ticklish by the minute. It was clear she had been watching her comrade carefully, as she was zoomed in on all the unbearable spots that Padme had hoped would go undiscovered. Padme’s high, hypersensitive arches bore the brunt of the initial wave of tickling, as Sulee began meticulously mapping the exquisite pair of feet for ticklish hot spots. The deep arches were an obvious spot, and even the two smugglers had noticed how ticklish Padme was there, but it was distressing how quickly Sulee probed and confirmed that the fleshy ball of the foot was another bad spot. It didn’t take long for her to discover how sensitive the tips of Padme’s toes were too, which was a spot Padme thought she had been able to hide as she had always tried to pull her feet away when the hands had gone near there, but it seemed Sulee had noticed even that.

The tickling grew worse and worse, as Padme’s laughter grew more and more frantic as the relentless stroking of red nails on the bottoms of her feet continued. This felt worse than being gang-tickled, Padme realized, as tears of ticklish mirth began to form in the corners of her eyes as she laughed and laughed. The silence in the room as Sulee worked was unnerving, as for five minutes all Padme heard was the sound of her own laughter, which soon she was barely recognizing as her own as it got more high-pitched and ragged as Padme’s soles received more and more ticklish abuse.

Just when Padme thought it might be over, Sulee dug into her mid-section, putting those long nails to work, poking her ribs, squeezing her sides, and darting to her armpits.  Padme was finding it difficult to breathe, for she was laughing so hard. She was dimly aware of Ahsoka shouting at Sulee to stop, but she could barely hear it over her own giggles as sweat clumped on her brow and all over her tired body.

After another eternity, Sulee stopped. “Do you want to talk now?” she said, in a cold whisper that carried across the room.

Padme felt herself whimpering despite herself, and shook her head. Sulee gave a booming laugh, and gave Padme’s side one last squeeze, making her jolt. “I’ll let you think it over while I entertain your friend.”

Sulee slowly made her way to Ahsoka, and Padme experienced an intense feeling of powerlessness as she saw Ahsoka experience the cruel fingernails that had been tickling Padme’s so intensely. Ahsoka’s ticklish feet were subjected to Sulee’s terrible touch, and Padme saw the strong-willed Jedi turn into a giggling wreck as her slender ticklish soles were tormented by an expert’s tantalizing touch. The Togruta wiggled her feet and scrunched her toes in an attempt to hinder her tormentress, but Sulee followed them with laser-like precision and never lost contact as Ahsoka’s laughter grew louder and wilder. Ahsoka’s slender arches seemed as bad as Padme’s, and those orange toes seemed even worse, as Sulee repeated lodged her nails in between Ahsoka’s toes to drive her mad with laughter.

Padme found herself looking away as Sulee tickled and tickled, wondering if this was how Ahsoka felt as she watched Padme suffer under Sulee’s hands. She had to do something… but what could she do? She realized perhaps Sulee had set the table like this on purpose, so she would be forced to watch the torment of her friend and be utterly helpless to stop it… unless she told her what she wanted to know.

But she would just be putting so many more lives in danger! Padme thought, as she watched Sulee move up to Ahsoka’s torso, and Ahsoka’s stomach spasmed like a Twilek belly dancer as Sulee spidered her manicured nails all over the taut, muscular stomach.

She was so lost in thought that she only just realized Sulee had stopped. “Who is going to tell me what I want to know,” she said, in an authoritative voice that sent shivers down Padme’s spine.

After neither of them responded, Sulee laughed. “We welcome a challenge, don’t we, boys? Now here’s the thing… I know of your exploits, Senator, and I know that the Jedi ain’t no slouches in the discipline department. So you’re not going to get tickled, oh no, you’re going to watch your friend get tickled.”

“Let’s start with you, Senator. I wonder if your Jedi pal is gonna save you,” Sulee said, as she gestured to her men. Padme was alarmed as they squirted an adhesive material over her mouth, effectively gagging her. They slipped a blindfold over Padme’s eyes next, and the last thing she saw was Ahsoka biting her lip, her face clearly conflicted

“It’s the Jedi rules or somethin’ to help an innocent in need, ain’t it?” Sulee said, her voice loud “Or are you just gonna watch your friend suffer?”

And suffer Padme did, as she was assaulted by seven pairs of hands, including the expert hands of Sulee. The inability to see attacks coming or even voice her laughter made it even worse. She pulled at her bonds with desperate energy, but she was too firmly tied to move much. She could feel all the hands. The two at the stockinged feet, going right at the spots Sulee had shown to be oh so ticklish, two at the midsection, scrabbling their fingers all over her ribs and sides, and two digging right into her armpits. Sulee was at Padme’s neck, grazing everywhere from the ears to the collarbones. Padme could smell Sulee’s musky perfume, and she could definitely feel her distinctive sharp fingernails. The gang members also snuck in a few gropes whenever their leader didn’t seem to be looking, and Padme constantly felt a disproportionate amount of hands trying to tickle her butt or ‘accidentally’ grazing her breasts while they were tickling her armpits or ribs, though it was hard to find the energy to be indigant when you were being tickled silly.

Then Sulee began to speak and taunt her, which was the worst of all.

“Awww, poor you, poor ticklish Senator. I bet you wish your friend would save you. She could save you, if she wanted to, but it looks like she don’t care. She’s happy to sit back and enjoy the show as we tickle, tickle, tickle. She must be enjoying watching you get tickled, she’s not saying anything. What’s that you’re grunting? I can’t hear you! Tickle her harder, boys! She’s trying to tell us something! Maybe she’s asking her friend to talk to us!”

Padme was lost in a haze of ticklish sensations. Ahsoka was shouting something again, but Padme could barely hear anything over the sound of her pounding heart and frantic laughter. The taunts and mocking comments came from the boys tickling her; so many that Padme couldn’t have kept them all straight even if she could pay attention. She was acutely aware of Sulee and her fiendish fingernails as they flitted from spot to spot. It seemed like wherever they touched she just magically grew in ticklishness, as Sulee worked her way from Padme’s collarbones, spending some time in the armpits, playing with the bellybutton for a while, tweaking Padme’s knees, and then going right at her soles furiously again.

“Hey Jedi, do you mind if we all tickle your friend’s pretty feet?” Sulee said, as Padme whined into her gag as she felt the tickling stop momentarily as footsteps clustered around her soles. She felt them bend her toes back, stretching the soles out.

Ahsoka said something with a lot of emotion, but Padme wasn’t quite able to make out what she said, as her head was still spinning. She knew the result of Ahsoka’s words though, as she felt the full force of the gang tickling strike her helpless, hyperticklish feet.

“Cootchie, cootchie coo, Senator! Who’s got ticklish tootsies, is it you?” Sulee teased. Despite all the fingers crawling over her feet at the moment, Padme was still painfully aware of Sulee’s ferocious touch – she could feel them as they spidered the balls of her feet in just the way she couldn’t stand it. It was all too much, Padme thought, continuing to roar indignant laughter into her gag, as the innumerable fingers continued to rove over every inch of her soles in unpredictable patterns.

Then just as quickly as the tempest of sensations had begun, Padme heard the sound of a loud clap, and the storm of tickling fingers dissipated, leaving her sweaty and panting as she desperately tried to catch her breath whilst only breathing through her nose.  Sulee reached over and stroked Padme’s face lightly with her long fingernails.

"Don't worry," she said. "We'll be back.  We won’t leave you alone too long."

She felt the blindfold and her makeshift gag being cleared away, and Padme panted, grateful she could finally exhale properly. Padme huffed and puffed, dreading that moment already. She wasn't sure she could survive another attack like that. She slowly blinked her eyes and saw the horror and worry plastered on Ahsoka’s face opposite her, still strapped to her table.

“You know, your friend begged, and begged,” Sulee said, as she examined Padme’s blindfold which was stained with tears and smudged eyeliner. “She wanted to desperately to save you, but she swore she didn’t know anything.” Sulee handed the blindfold to one of her goons, and he went over to Ahsoka and slipped it on. The Togruta tried to bit him, but soon they had her blinded and gagged just the way Padme had been, moments before.

“She’s a good friend… are you going to let her suffer the way you did?” Sulee said, turning her back to Padme and slowly walking to the bound Jedi, flexing and wiggling her talon-like fingernails.

Padme realized that being tickle tortured had been unbearable, but the real horrific side was being forced to watch as your friend received tickling punishment in your place, and being utterly powerless to stop it.

It was a horrible spectacle to observe, as Sulee and her villainous scum ruthlessly gang tickled the poor young Jedi. Sulee would call out her taunts loudly, just for Padme to hear. Padme was transfixed at the sight of her poor, ticklish friend. She just couldn’t look away, the same way you couldn’t look away from a landspeeder crash. And Ahsoka was so ticklish – it really didn’t look like she was able to stand it at all. The blindfold made her even more vulnerable, as the six grunts and Sulee worked all over Ahsoka’s sensitive body. She shrieked and howled into the gag, and pulled vigorously on the nefarious bondage, but there was no escape. Sulee was right at her collarbones and neck, taunting and mocking her the way she had done to Padme, but now the senator realized the words were not for Ahsoka, but for her. A pair of Trandoshans were squeezing and kneading Ahsoka’s sides and ribs. Another was squeezing her knee caps, and the remainder were focusing the assault on Ahsoka’s wiggling, black-nylon clad soles. They had identified Ahsoka’s toes as being a particularly soft spot for her, so they firmly held them back and manually spread her toes, so there would be no hiding her ticklishness there.

Padme couldn’t bear to watch, as every ticklish nook and cranny along Ahsoka’s ticklish toes were meticulously tormented by cruel fingers.

“Stop, stop, stop! I’ll talk! Just leave her alone!” Padme cried.

“Hear that, Jedi? Maybe your friend wants to free you. Or maybe she’s just getting all our hopes up,” Sulee said sinisterly, continuing to tickle under Ahsoka’s chin and along her ears. “I’m waiting, Senator. Your friend is waiting too.”

Padme was ashamed to say she gave them everything they wanted. Or at least that was what she appeared to do. She diverted funds from her accounts, and played the part of the submissive female. Many a senate foe had fallen for this ruse, and it seemed even Sulee was gullible enough to believe she had won. The InterGalactic Bank Clan and many other holonet banking systems did not have this, but Padme had taken the liberty of adding a distress code to her account – all she had to do was input a different password (the account would still transfer the credits) and a coded distress call would be sent to a destination of her choosing.

Sulee nodded as she confirmed the transfer of funds with her technical supervisor. “Good. We’ll drop you gals off after we’ve gone off-world. Pleasure doing business with you, Senator.”

Oh, the pleasure will be all mine… Padme thought, as she bowed her and continued to feign humility.


Sure enough, in less than one standard hour, Anakin Skywalker and a squadron of Clone Troopers had struck the facility with the force an atomic blast.

As Padme watched a swearing, snarling Sulee get hauled off by a pair of Clone Troopers, Padme pondered making a request to the senate to invoke special disciplinary laws. She had just the ‘rehabilitation’ method in mind. She imagined Sulee, stripped off her grubby armour, and strapped in just the way Padme had been… The proud, headstrong smuggler reduced to a mewling kitten as Padme discovered each and every one of her spots… the thought brought a smile to her face.                                                   

She should mention it to Ahsoka. Something told her she would like the idea.

Star Wars TK: Lessons in Laughter

(This takes place during the episode “The Academy” during the Clone Wars.)


The Royal Academy of Government was a New Mandalorian leadership academy that was located in the New Mandalorian capital city of Sundari on the planet Mandalore. It was where the young leaders of tomorrow were single-mindedly focused on improving themselves so they could best serve their government. At least that was what they said in the commercials.

In truth, the young adults who made up the student population of the Royal Academy of Government were just like youngsters everywhere. Some were motivated, some were less so. Some were serious, some were less so. Soniee and Lagos were two students who at this particular moment, as Jedi representative Ahsoka Tano entered the lecture hall, in full Jedi raiment, were not feeling especially inclined to focus on academic pursuits.

“Ahsoka Tano… she seems awfully serious, doesn’t she?” Lagos said, playing with her blonde ponytail as she watched the Togruta pontificate passionately on the stage.

“She’s a Jedi – what do you expect?” her friend Soniee replied, as she half-listened to Ahsoka’s lecture, playing with her datapad on her lap.

“I mean, she’s talking about tradition, and integrity, and holding onto your ideals…” Lagos said, selectively pulling out words from Ahsoka’s speech. “That’s a sign, isn’t it? Remember our little tradition here at the academy? How we greet all our new tutors?”

“She’s a Jedi. I’d rather not have my head cut off with a lightsaber, thank you,” Soniee said dryly.

“She handed in her lightsaber, remember? No weapons!” Lagos insisted, her blue eyes sparklingly with enthusiasm.  

Soniee tapped her chin for a moment, as she pondered her friend’s offer. She stealthily turned on her personal display visor, and set the scanner to detect the density of nerve clusters. Soniee had always been a tinkerer, and she loved inventing her own algorithms and finding new functionality out of her devices. This particular display visor had been installed with software that allowed its user to detect where nerves were most clumped together… also known as sensitivity. Soniee fixed her eyes on Ahsoka, still orating on stage, and was delighted to see a stream of sensitivity hot-spots being recognized on her visor. The visor recognized hot-spots by high-lighting them in red, moderate spots in yellow, and unreceptive spots in blue, and Soniee was surprised by how much red there was on this ‘dignified Jedi representative’. The underarms were definitely going to be a fun spot to play with. The sides and ribs were yellow, but the redness of the navel made up for it.

“What have we got? Are her feet any fun?” Lagos whispered. Soniee mentally rolled her eyes – Lagos always had a fixation on feet. Many a sleepover with her that had started amiably with pedicures (Soniee invariably chose more conservative colours, like red and white, while Lagos always chose bolder ones, like emerald-green and gold) but ended in desperate tickle fights.

“Hold on…” Soniee hissed, as she waited to get a clear shot; the thick Jedi boots Ahsoka wore were preventing her from getting an accurate reading.

 After waiting patiently, the opportunity came, as Ahsoka sat down in her seat at the front of the class and crossed her legs. It was a little thing, as her shoe came loose and slipped off her foot. It only lasted a brief second as Ahsoka quickly slipped her nylon-clad foot back into the shoe, but Soniee’s sensors were afforded an invaluable, unobstructed view of her new tutor’s sole. 

The visor hummed as it quickly analyzed the data. There was a wide grin on Soniee’s face, as she saw the entire foot light up like a shimmering Sundari sunset. Almost the entire sole blazed like a ruby, with white-red nodes that glowed brightest around the base of the toes and in between them. The crimson lines that trailed all over the arches, especially the white fault lines along the centre of the arch were breathtaking too. Soniee would never have imagined a Jedi would have such ticklish feet, or indeed, that a Jedi could even be ticklish. She passed the visor over to Lagos and saw her friend’s jaw drop.

“We have to get her. It’s practically a civic duty!” Lagos exclaimed.

“We do. But we need to discuss this first. Meet you in the engineering labs after class…”


The long-standing tradition at The Royal Academy of Government, was of course, a thorough tickling of any new tutors by their students. Mandalorian culture dictates that strength and dedication were the most important traits for any warrior to have, and legend has it, the noble tradition of testing the perseverance of new additions via ordeal by tickle-torment was instigated by Mandalore the Preserver himself. Of course, Soniee was doubtful that it hadn’t been a handful of tickle-loving students who had simply invented the story and perhaps the entire legend was a mere fable, but she was happy to go along with it.

The various devices around the Engineering hall had gotten a lot of mileage out of the years, as the turnover was high in such a prestigious faculty. Usually, there were up to a dozen eager volunteers willing to participate in the trial, depending on the attractiveness of the new tutor. Soniee fondly remembered a comely, purple-skinned Zeltron tutor, with deep crimson skin and dark blue hair, which had summoned a crowd of almost thirty students.

The best part was, she had been quite enthusiastic to the idea, though perhaps she may have misunderstood what they meant by “making her laugh”. The Zeltrons were famed for their gullibility, after all. They had really given her a proper Mandalorian welcome, strapping her eagle-spread to an examination table and gang-tickling her for a full night.

There wasn’t a spot on her svelte, flexible body that was not astonishingly ticklish, and they had all had an absolute ball playing with her throughout the night. Soniee fondly remembered having a foot to herself, which was one of the perks of being the one to design the bondage table (the others fought over the remaining ticklish spots, and neck, armpits, ribs, sides, stomach, thighs, knees and feet saw little rest over the entire evening). She could still remember watching the red-skinned foot with its painted blue toes, painted the same bold blue as her hair, splay and curl agilely as they fought frantically to escape Soniee’s tickling touch. She had been so much fun to play with, as they teased her entire body with feathers, brushes, and a whole host of other devious devices.

They had even convinced her that she would have to do it again once a month – Zeltrons really would buy anything!

Soniee was sorry to say that the poor Zeltron tutor had resigned after half a year, due to her students constantly tickling her in class. Soniee remembered a particular memorable lesson on anatomy where a handful of males decided to demonstrate the Babinski reflex on their lovely tutor’s soles repeatedly, to the amusement and merriment of the rest of the class.

“Thinking about all the good times we had in this room?” Lagos asked, recognizing the nostalgic look in Soniee’s green eyes.

“Yeah. Remember the Zeltron tutor we had a few years back?”

“Oh yeah. Super-ticklish feet. Good times,” Lagos nodded, with a chuckle.

“Is that all you remember?” Soniee said, with a laugh. “Where’s the rest of the guys?”

“I think they’ve chickened out. Jedi are scary, remember?”

“More for us, then.”

“That’s the spirit, though I’m calling dibs on the tootsies. Did you see those black nylons she was wearing today?”

“Oh, Lagos. I’m trying to think about how we’re going to get her in the first place.”

“Tickle her so much she can’t focus? If her feet are as ticklish as your sensors say…” Lagos said, wiggling her fingers enthusiastically. “Oooh, we could use the phony exercise machine! Remember that time we got that arrogant fitness tutor into that?”

Soniee smiled at the memory. The fitness instructor had been a tough-nosed Chiss woman, with the fierce red eyes and blue-skin of her people. She evidently took a lot of pride in her toned physique, and as such, it was easy to goad her into a ‘demonstration’ of her physical prowess on a press-up bench that had been subtly altered by Soniee’s own hand. Instead of honing the muscles around the shoulders and arms, this bench would hone its user’s abs – namely by having them laugh hysterically. The headstrong instructor quickly lay down on the bench, oblivious to the impending danger, and as soon as she lifted her hands to push the bar, metal clamps sprang from the framework to snare her ankles and wrists. The scariest of the instructor had summoned a smaller crowd, but a few hours into the tickling, Soniee, Lagos, and two other students had turned the snarling Chiss into a blubbering housecat. Lagos had taken a special delight in stripping off the tutor’s sports shoes and tickling those blue soles with her sharp nails till they were nice and red, while Soniee had enjoyed taunting and teasing the muscular instructor at her impotence. The look of despair in the Chiss’s red eyes was worth a million creds as she realized despite her muscles and strength, she would not be able to pull down her arms to ward off Soniee’s fingernails from creeping into her armpits.   

Soniee sighed, as she knew such a machine would not work on a Jedi like Ahsoka Tano. “It wouldn’t work, Lagos. Jedi.”

“Killjoy,” Lagos said, sticking out her tongue. “What about those robo-stocks? Remember Miss High-and-mighty from last year?”

Soniee should have guessed Lagos would have brought up those stocks. Miss High-and-Mighty was a derogative nickname the class had given to a Tholothian tutor who was nigh-universally despised because of her condescending attitude. The Tholothian woman was breathtakingly beautiful with her dark skin and indigo eyes, seemingly ageless, and always immaculately dressed, but her fashion sense was interpreted as vanity by the many female students of the class (Soniee privately wondered how big a factor jealousy was in the equation). And the girls had delighted in taking her down a peg. They had tricked her into the robo-stocks chair, on the pretence of it being some kind of massage table, but as soon as she settled in, little robotic claws pulled back each of her brown toes as larger claws pulled her arms behind her head.

At that point, the vengeful women of the class tore into her ticklish body with a righteous fury that can only be seen when women are tickling other women. The gang-tickling had been merciless, with several of the girls even high-fiving when they successfully tickled the haughty instructor to tears. The tutor had always worn expensive designer high-heels and synthetic nylons of the highest quality, so the female students (especially Lagos) took a special delight in stroking and teasing the soft tootsies which clearly received regular pedicures. Soniee had even been devious enough to install some automated ticklers so their haggard instructor would not get a moment of peace while the girls went to bed. The way the tutor begged as Soniee calibrated four small mechanical arms tipped with narrow, drill-like plastic points probed all over her immobile soles had been a beautiful sight to behold. It was only narrowly overshone by the way she swore and shouted after Soniee finished setting the automated ticklers in place: The first one was slotted into place under the ball of her foot, the second one set just above the heel, the third just below her big toe on the opposite foot and then the fourth zeroed in around the very centre.

As Soniee finished putting them all in place and turning them on, she was pleased to see that although the stroking area was limited, it still seemed extremely effective as the instructor turned into a howling wreck.

Sadly, it had the same problems as the first.

“She’s a Jedi. It just wouldn’t work,” Soniee said, shaking her head.

“Kill. Joy. So what do you propose then?” Lagos asked, crossing her arms.

“I don’t know… don’t we have Ysalamiri down by the wildlife preserve?”

“Those force-repelling lizards? I’ve always thought the idea that they can somehow block the force was a myth. They’re just lizards… how would they even know how to do such a thing?”

“When you put it that way, maybe we should put more faith in good ol’ machines,” Soniee said, rubbing her hands together. “I’ll look into some force cage designs and see what I can do.”


“Wow, thanks for coming! You got our holonet message?” A pair of grinning students said as they greeted Ahsoka outside the engineering labs. “I’m Lagos by the way,” said the blonde with the brilliant blue eyes. “And this is Soniee,” she gestured to the green-eyed brunette.  

“The Jedi council always appreciates a bit of mingling with the locals. When you mentioned this traditional ritual, I just had to come along and check it out,” Ahsoka said, with a friendly smile. The message she had received had been rather vague, and initially the Togruta had been wary, but now that she was here and face-to-face with these two girls, she felt reassured. She sensed playfulness, mixed with a bit of nervousness as if they had something planned, but Ahsoka sensed these two were trustworthy and would not attempt to do her serious harm.

“We were really curious about how a Jedi would fare against one of the most ancient Mandalorian traditions – the ordeal,” Lagos gushed, as she clapped her hands together excitedly.

“Well, the Jedi always like to be a part of the communities they join,” Ahsoka said, hoping the students wouldn’t notice she wasn’t quite sure what an ordeal was. Was it like a deal?

Ahsoka followed the students who lead her into a lit room, where she was greeted by a mechanized stockade waiting for her. There were tools laid out on trays alongside it – there was a toothbrush, paintbrushes, q-tips, yarn, massage vibrators, and all kinds of stuff.  Ahsoka still didn't put the pieces together until she saw the feathers, long firm ones and short fluffy ones.

“Such a distinguished Jedi like yourself wouldn’t be afraid of a little tickling, right?” Lagos grinned. Just looking at all the tickly tools was enough to made Ahsoka’s toes curl in her boots, as Ahsoka remembered her ticklish encounter at the hands of her competitive roommate.

“So this is the Mandalorian ordeal, eh?” Ahsoka said, as she picked up a feather with the Force and spun it in the air. “Doesn’t seem very manly.”

“I understand it used to be done with spikes and blasters and things, but this is much less messy,” Soniee shrugged.

“And you didn’t answer us – are you ticklish?” Lagos added, grinning cheekily.

“Not especially,” Ahsoka answered. That wasn’t technically a lie… From a certain point of view, it was definitely true – Ahsoka probably wasn’t especially ticklish compared to the most ticklish beings in the entire universe.   

“Then you should be able to beat our challenge with ease! Have a seat, Ahsoka!”

Ahsoka crossed her arms, unsure if she wanted to voluntarily sign up for tickle torture. “Hold on, why should I?”

Lagos and Soniee looked at each other, clearly having not expected the question. “Ummm, because traditions and stuff? Respect for culture?”

Ahsoka smirked. “Tell you what, I’ll accept your little challenge. But if I can take…” she paused, looking at the clock in the corner of the room. “Thirty standard minutes, then I get to tickle you two for as long as I want.” Tickling Barriss and her Mirialan soles had been very fun, and Ahsoka was eager to experience that again.

The girls discussed with each other briefly before nodding, and they all shook hands on it.

Ahsoka was quickly seated in the metal stockade, hoping she had not bit off more than she could chew. The girls hadn’t mentioned what would happen if she gave up within thirty minutes…  but then again, she could always use the Force to get her out of trouble, right?

Apparently not; as Ahsoka’s high Jedi boots were pulled off and she was strapped into the stockade, she felt her connection to the force nullify as she realized too late that the stockade seemed to have the same Force-suppressing signature as Force Cages. The girls finished tying Ahsoka’s arms high above her head and stepped back to admire their handiwork.

Ahsoka Tano had her pretty, black nylon-clad soles sticking out of two holes at the foot of the stockade, with a fair distance between the two feet so they could not reach each other – Ahsoka wouldn’t even be able to hide one ticklish foot behind the other. The way her legs were spread, Ahsoka’s thighs would also be easily tormented, as well as the entire mid-section. The armpits would be bad too, with the way her taut arms were tired.

As Ahsoka tested her bonds, it became clear that although the students had done a good job with the Force-nullifying shackles, they had been remiss in binding Ahsoka’s body tightly enough. The agile and slender Togruta knew that if she really wanted to, she would be able to wiggle her way out of her constraints in seconds, but did she really want to? Ahsoka remembered the ticklish ministrations she had received at the hands of Barriss, and she chided herself for her lack of endurance. Perhaps this would be exactly the training she needed. Peering at her tormentresses through the Force, Ahsoka sensed no malice or ill will, though perhaps the blonde girl was enjoying herself a bit too much. Ahsoka knew she had the power to break free at any point anyway, so why not go along with things?

“Thirty minutes, girls,” Ahsoka challenged. “And then you’re all mine. Better make your time count! Jedi don’t break easily!”

“Yeah, it should be easy for you, not like you’re ticklish or anything, right?” Lagos said with an air of sarcasm as she picked up a pair of feathers, one fluffy and one stiff, and strolled towards Ahsoka’s feet. Ahsoka’s first instinct was curiosity. She had never been tickled by feathers before. Would she even be feather ticklish?

Ahsoka got her answer sharply as the two feathers quickly made their impact felt on her stocked feet. There was a shocked gasp at the lightness of the sensations as the feathers chose their mark, and giggles quickly burst from the Togruta’s mouth unbidden as the feathers danced over her soles.

“Remind me, what did you say about not being ticklish?” Lagos giggled, as she twirled the feathers along the pair of soles with the air of an expert featherer. She had driven many a tutor to hysterics with these feathers, and none of them had scored as highly as Ahsoka on Soniee’s sensitivity monitor either. Lagos already found herself captivated by the desperate dance of Ahsoka’s flailing feet as they twisted right and left to try to avoid the feathers, the ankles exploring its entire limit of movement as they writhed about in reaction to feathering. This was too fun, and they were just getting started.

Soniee has started on Ahsoka’s torso too, and she was brandishing a devilish tool of her own design – to a casual observer, they might have merely looked like gloves, but Soniee’s gloves were the ultimate tickling tool in her capable hands. The gloves had plastic fingertips with plastic segment which vibrated with terribly ticklish intent when they were activated. The vibrations intensified tickling sensations, and were absolutely unbearable when used around the armpits or belly-button, at least according to Lagos’s post-experiment testimony (Soniee and Lagos had an unspoken agreement that all tickling devices would be tested on both of them in turn, with Soniee tickling the upperbody while Lagos covered the feet – that way they could ensure their tools would be useful on all body parts). The buzzing fingertips were definitely effective too, as they scampered all over Ahsoka’s sides, ribs and stomach. Soniee sometimes wouldn’t even need to wiggle her fingers, she would merely place her hands on a ticklish spot and let the machine do the work for her, allowing her to focus on watching the way Ahsoka would writhe and snort with laughter and frantically try to pull away from the vibrating sensations.

Ahsoka was having a hard time deciding which tickled more, as the buzzing fingertips pillaged into her stomach as the feathers danced all over her soles. Her sangfroid was leaving her, as bubbly laugher began spilling from her mouth despite her vaunted Jedi discipline – it just tickled too much. These girls were a lot better at this than Ahsoka would have assumed, definitely much more proficient than Barriss had even been.

Lagos was using the fluffy feather to likely dust all over the entire length of the sole, while she devoted the stiff feather to more precise exploration as she teased one spot intensively at a time, alternating which foot got which feather as she went along. The high, structured arches of the nylon-wearing Jedi proved to be especially sensitive to strokes from the stiff feather, so after discovering this, Lagos spent several minutes stroking the sharp tip of the stiff feather up and down Ahsoka’s arches slowly and methodically, randomly throwing in quick strokes every so often to throw her off even more. She feathered with laser-like precision, following Ahsoka’s feet whenever they tried to move away from the feathers. It was bad, but at least she hadn’t discovered how vulnerable Ahsoka’s toes were…

Soniee on the other hand, had definitely discovered Ahsoka’s armpits being a goldmine of ticklish reactions, as she buzzed one finger in each armpit, then two, then five, and then ten fingers wiggling inside one underarm. It kept changing, never letting her get used to the sensations, and Ahsoka’s predicative powers were paltry in the confines of this Force Cage.

She shuddered for a second as Soniee and her vibrating fingertips began grabbing at her ribcage, making the Togruta guffaw and twist her head from side-to-side. Lagos was beginning to probe Ahsoka’s toes with her feathers too – the fluffy feather teased the tips of Ahsoka’s toes, while the stiff one swept along the bases of the toes. The Togruta’s laughter was a steady stream of girlish giggles now, and it had only been about ten minutes, but Ahsoka wasn’t about to give up. She really wanted to push her limits.

“Is that all you got? The fi-hi-inest young minds on the planet, and you cahahant do better than this?” Ahsoka said, playfully taunting them. It actually tickled very much, but she wasn’t about to give them the satisfaction.

She knew how ticklish she was around her toes, especially in between them, so she decided she had to try to build up some stamina there. Ahsoka grit her teeth and voluntarily spread her red toes as wide as they could go, giving her captors unfettered access to those horrendously ticklish undersides. Ahsoka’s toes began to twitch furiously as she quickly felt a pair of feathers, one on each foot, twirling and running in between her toes. It was unspeakably difficult to resist the urge to curl her toes as such a ticklish spot was feathered like this, and it took all her focus to keep those toes open.  Lagos also began targeting one foot at a time, holding the foot steady with one hand while she wielded the feather masterfully with the other, hitting all the hot spots on the heel, arch, ball of the foot, and especially the toes. Every time Lagos worked on a foot, the other one would clench and unclench its toes as it strained to try to reach its feathered twin. They were held too far apart to reach, but every once in a while, Lagos would giggle at Ahsoka’s attempts to protect her ticklish foot and she would brush the tips of the toes as they reached over to desperately try to stop her tickling. The toes would flinch and the foot would recoil back each time she teased them with a strike from the feather, but soon enough, the tickling Lagos was inflicting on the ticklish foot would always prompt the foot to try again.

“I think she’s daring us, Soniee,” Lagos giggled, as she stood up and moved to the side, manning Ahsoka’s right foot. “Let’s both give these toosies a tickling she’ll never forget!”

“Both?” Ahsoka’s heart pounded excitedly in her chest as she felt Soniee give a last buzzing tickle on her ticklish tummy before walking down to sit in front of her left foot. Ahsoka keenly remembered how devastatingly effective those vibrating gloves had been on her upperbody. She looked down at the gloves with their humming plastic fingernails on each finger, and imagined them being raked down her soles… it sent chills down her spine.

Ahsoka only had a moment to brace herself as she felt a ten-fingered explosion of sensation on her helpless left, nylon-clad foot. The nails were sharp, and they buzzed horribly, sending shockwaves of ticklish sensations swarming through her body. The fingertips were a sharp, stampede of sensations and the ten fingers covered so much of her soles with their onslaught; because Soniee was using all ten of her fingers on just the one foot, it was easy to cover all of Ahsoka’s sweet spots at once – the arches, the toes, to the fleshy area of the foot just beneath the balls of my feet, were never left unharassed by those buzzing fingernails.

“She’s so ticklish! Cootchie cootchie coo, ticklish Jedi! Ahsoka Tano? More like Tickle Toes Tano!” They teased, the mockery embarrassing Ahsoka further as she tore away from the sight of her ticklish soles to look up at the clock. Three more minutes, she could make it!

The girls, noticing that time was not on their side, ramped up on the intensity. Feathers and fingers invaded the undersides of Ahsoka’s toes, Lagos having quickly divulged information to Soniee of Ahsoka’s sensitivity in that region. Ahsoka’s orange toes were grazed and tormented by twenty fingers and feathers as they tried to get her to give up, but Ahsoka dug deep into her Jedi discipline and held on. It was close, and she threw her head and howled louder than she had ever laughed before when Lagos discarded her feathers and they both tore into Ahsoka’s soft soles with fingernails. They would attack one foot at a time, with one hand pulling the toes back while the other three would scribble wildly over the sole so Ahsoka had to contend with no less than thirty fingers (of which there were usually twenty of those vibrating fingertips).

Ahsoka didn’t know how she lasted the final three minutes, without begging for them to stop and without freeing herself, but she felt the girls stop.

The girls unstrapped her, shaking their heads in disbelief.

“You’re the most ticklish girl we’ve ever had in one of these chairs… how did you hold out?”

“The only true answers come from yourself,” Ahsoka said with a smile.

“Oh, don’t give us one of those vague platitudes!” Lagos moaned, rolling her eyes.

“I’m serious. You guys will have all night to think about it…” Ahsoka said, as she wiggled her fingers and all the ticklish utensils flew in the air, hovering over the girls like a swarm of bees. She made a pulling motion and claimed Soniee’s vibrating fingertips and slipped them on.

“Go easy on us!” the girls squeaked, as they were suddenly pulled into the air, their boots flying off, and revealing their nylon-clad soles.

“Just remember… there is no emotion, there is peace,” Ahsoka said, as like the orchestra of a grandiose concert, she began directing tickling tools to ticklish areas.

“Whahahahat does thahahaht even mehehehan!”   

“A few hours and you’ll work it out,” Ahsoka giggled, as she gave an experimental stroke with the buzzing fingertips on Lagos’s feet, and then Soniee’s, as she delighted in how effective it was. “Cootchie cootchie coo…”



Opening Commissions Officially.

Journal Entry: Thu Jul 17, 2014, 6:47 PM
Facebook l Gallery l dA Portfolio l Watch Me l Note Me


I've been doing commissions for a while now, but I've never made a proper journal about it, so I thought it was high time I got around to making a journal to let potential commissioners know about how I operate.

Usually how it works is we first agree on a price - my going rate is $30 for 4000-5000 words. If you want to commission me for multiple stories, then maybe we can talk about a package deal. In terms of payment, you pay half up front, and half when it is finished. Unfortunately, I don't accept points. 

Then you tell me what features you would like to see in the story - lee(s)/ler(s), tools, the situation/context, techniques, that sort of thing. I'm open to writing both /f or /m. I've done a variety of sadistic stories and light-hearted casual stories (check my gallery) with upper-body/feet focuses, so I'm alright with writing pretty much everything - You just need to be specific and state what you would like to see.

I don't charge more if you want multiple lees/lers or multiple tickle scenes, though I remind you there is only so much you can cram into 4000 words, so too many lees/tickle scenes will invariably lead to brief and watered-down content.

In terms of characters/'verses: 
While it is obviously easier to write characters I know about, I like to think given time to research I can write adequately about characters I am not so familiar with. My latest stories about Percy Jackson and Kingdom Hearts were two stories I was fairly unfamiliar with both (I only read the first Percy Jackson and I've never played Kingdom Hearts). Perhaps you will say it shows, but both commissioners were happy with the result.

So there's no limit when it comes to characters, as long as you give me the basic plotline/context and give me a bit of time to do some online research.

After we've decided on most of the details, I start writing. 

I will send regular snippets (weekly/bi-weekly) to let you know about my progress. And eventually, I'll send you a final draft, you'll send me the second half of the payment, and then I brush it up one last time and upload it. 

Oh, another thing about the payment. I usually ask the commissioner to purchase clips/comics for me that add up to the agreed price.

Send me a note if you're interested or if you have any questions. 

And I don't do requests. Be unfair to my commissioners. Art Trades maybe, though we'd have to discuss. 

CSS made by TwiggyTeeluck
Texture by Princess-of-Shadows

Do you prefer upperbody or lowerbody (feet) tickling? 

65 deviants said Lowerbody
29 deviants said Upperbody



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InfiniteRespect Featured By Owner Sep 26, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Ahsoka III?
oneortheother Featured By Owner Sep 26, 2014
You have good timing - just uploaded III.
InfiniteRespect Featured By Owner Sep 27, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
MandrakeMoorglade Featured By Owner Sep 22, 2014
Just discovered your nylon tickling stories.  Going to be here for awhile.  :)
oneortheother Featured By Owner Sep 23, 2014
Enjoy the journey!
codeman52490us Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2014
I notice that the story with Luna and Pansy was the last Harry Potter TK story. I wondered about that. I REALLY hope that series isn't finished. I LOVE following along with it!
oneortheother Featured By Owner Sep 21, 2014
I'm focused mainly on commissions work these days, though I might continue with the series in future.
futbolista24 Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2014
Lovin' your very... ahem, vivid... stories, mate. Kudos to your wonderful work!
futbolista24 Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2014
Will do, mate! Loved your Persona work and the Namine story, in particular!
oneortheother Featured By Owner Sep 18, 2014
Haha, I appreciate that! Much more to come, so do stay posted!
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