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(This takes place at an indeterminate time during the Clone Wars before Barriss's betrayal.)

Star Wars TK: Hysterical Hijack


“Flying is for droids.”

Ahsoka Tano had heard Master Obi-Wan Kenobi say that to Anakin once, and she had never understood quite what he meant until her current mission. The red-skinned Togruta was on the Republic vessel The Eagle’s Ascent, though Ahsoka would have thought a name like The Chicken’s Coop would have been more fitting. The ship was crammed full of republic soldiers and citizens from an evacuation mission, and Ahsoka had been delegated to small, claustrophobic quarters in the cargo hold. She wasn’t there often, which was a consolation, but sleep was hard to come by with the constant sound of noise and movement all around her. Several of the citizens were having less-than-pure thoughts too, which was making her perceptions of the Force murky on this overpopulated vessel.

Ahsoka’s official capacity on this ship was bodyguard – she was escorting esteemed Senator Chuchi back to Coruscant after a senatorial mission. Senator Riyo Chuchi was a female, Pantoran politician who hailed from the Pantoran homeworld of Pantora, who had done a great deed for the Republic in successfully convincing the Outer Rim planet Iridu, a planet rich in precious metals, to join the Republic. The planet’s governors had also sent a bountiful gift of precious metals to be presented to the Senate as part of the initiation ceremony. Ahsoka’s mission was to ensure the precious metals and the Senator remained secure, and as missions went, this had been one of her cushier assignments. The biggest challenge she had endured was a particularly persistent Twi’lek who seemed to think he had a chance with the comely, purple-haired, blue-skinned senator. She had been on the ship for about a month now, with all the various stops the Republic cruiser was making. She stared up at the ceiling, yawning as she tried to sleep in heruncomfortable bed. Soon the mission would be over and she could go back to the Jedi Temple – she thought of Barriss and all the misadventures she had had since their last tickle-filled meeting. Ahsoka closed her eyes and went to sleep in her cramped quarters with a smile on her lips.


Noush Shadowmane chuckled to herself as she made her way across the halls of The Eagle’s Ascent – so much for vaunted Republic security! It had been pure Pazaak, pure child’s play to make her way on-board the vessel, tagging along with all the refugees that had been herded onto the ship like sheep, though her custom stealth-suit which rendered her invisible to the naked eye had helped. Noush had been in the business way too long to be in the habit of underestimating her foes, but she marvelled at the credits the Separatists were paying her for this mission. She had been commissioned to steal this cargo of precious metals, shiny jewels and the like, as it would make the Republic look bad and force Iridu to reconsider its position. The only catch was the on-board vault where the goods were stored had an access code, half of which is known by Senator Chuchi and half by Ahsoka for security purposes. It was an annoyingly-clever suggestion, but Noush had confidence in her own abilities. You didn’t succeed in this line of work without a healthy dose of confidence – after all, how hard could it be to make some prissy Senator and Jedi brat squeal?

The only question was who would be first.


Senator Riyo Chuchi reclined at her desk, her blue fingers stapled together. Being a senator, her quarters were considerably larger than the other rooms on the large vessel. She had a desk, a cushy bed and the room didn’t have the same dry metallic smell that seemed rampant around the rest of the ship. She had gotten used to the noise of the ship, with all its regular comings and goings, so she didn’t give a second thought to thumps along the door of her room after she casually gave a cursory glance and didn’t see anyone. Her eyes returned to her notes, and seconds later, her head slumped onto her desk as a sleep dart jabbed her in the neck and she fell unconscious.


Chuchi’s pale golden eyes fluttered open, and she found herself on her bed. She woke up groggily and wondered if she had just experienced a bad dream, but the bondage around her body quickly dissuaded her of such a notion. She had been crudely wrapped around in her own blankets, snugly.

She looked around and failed to see anyone in the room, and grunting to herself she called out loudly, wondering if she was being pranked. To her shock, a grinning dark-haired figure suddenly coalesced out of nowhere, like some kind of ghostly apparition, but the calm and collected Senator was too rational to accept such an explanation.

“Impressive stealth suit technology,” Chuchi said coldly, by way of greeting. “Who are you?”

“Oh, you know,” the black-suited woman said with a mischievous smile. “Just someone who would like to score an exclusive interview with Senator Chuchi.”

“Interview? What are you talking about?” Chuchi said, her bright eyes full of confusion.

“That was a joke. Not my best one. I’m Noush Shadowmane, and I guess that’s why I’m a mercenary instead of a comedian,” the woman said, flicking her shoulder-length brown hair. “But enough small talk. Your vault code. Gimme.”

“You’ve come to the wrong person if you think I can be coerced,” Chuchi said, shaking her head. “Haven’t you heard about me? I have risked my life so much for my people. To die for one's people is a great sacrifice. To live for one's people, an even greater sacrifice. I choose to live for my people. There is nothing you can do to me."

“Oh blah blah blah. Big fancy words, Senator,” Noush said, rolling her eyes. “I personally can’t stand smooth-talkers like you – Fancy-pants politicians who think they can fix anything with some honeyed words, but we’re going to have one of your ‘negotiations’ right now.”

“The Pantora government does not negotiate with terrorists, which is what you are, whoever you claim to be,” Chuchi said, narrowing her large golden-yellow eyes.

“Too good to talk to me, eh? So be it. You stubborn fools always make me laugh, or would you prefer to laugh instead?”

Senator Chuchi’s mind was trying compute what had just been said when the brown-haired woman suddenly reached out with a pair of gloved hands and flicked her fingers across the senator’s soles. The senator was wearing her senatorial garb, including tan nylons, which provided little protection as fingers skated across soles.

“Whahahahat are you dohohohing!” Chuchi said, unable to keep the laughter out of her voice.

“What does it look like? Tickling you! No evidence left behind – it makes the perfect interrogation method! And oh so effective against pampered politicians,” Noush chuckled, as she dug in even more fiercely with her scraping fingers.

As Senator Chuchi gritted her teeth, she had to admit the ticklishness was surprisingly annoying – the constant guffawing was making her stomach hurt, and she hadn’t been tickled since she was a girl, so she had no idea her feet would be quite so sensitive.

And there was nothing she could do now but twist her mummified body from side to side as this sneering terrorist had free reign of her ticklish feet.

Chuchi didn’t want to acknowledge it, but the fact was her body felt incredibly exposed and vulnerable right now, with her wiggling feet propped up and free for this woman to torment in any way she pleased.The tight bonds wound around her body intensified the sense of helplessness. The worst part was the mercenary’s conceited smile as she played with Chuchi’s feet, pulling the blue toes back, and watching Chuchi squirm to each scratch, each flick, each line she drew down the ticklish sole. The fiend had started out slow and sent Chuchi into girlish giggles, but as Noush discovered more and more of Chuchi’s ticklish spots, like the base of her arch or the bottoms of the heels, Chuchi was laughing at the top of her lungs as devilish fingers fingers tickled at full speed.

The tickling didn’t let up for ten minutes, by which time Chuchi was shouting for a chance at dialogue – her own ticklishness was too much for her.

“I’m reheheheheady to negotiate! Lehehehehts tahahahalk abohohohout thihihihis!”

“Glad to hear it,” Noush chuckled, though her fingers never broke contact with Chuchi’s blue soles for a second. “Now here’s the trade. I have a pair of ticklish nyloned feet in front of me. I’ll give you them in return for your half of the access code to the on-board vault.”

“Thahahahahat’s nahahahat a fair trahahahade!”

“It isn’t. Would it help if I mentioned they were very ticklish?” Noush laughed to herself, as she spidered her fingers even more quickly up and down Noush’s soft and supple soles. “You need time to think. A long time to think. We have seven hours before the crew serves your next meal, let’s make them count, shall we?”


Ahsoka Tano stirred in her quarters, suddenly sitting upright in bed. She swore she had felt a disturbance in the Force. She got up, clipped her lightsaber to her belt and went outside the cargo hold, to see a pair of snogging Twileks who were thumping their tangle of limbs against the wall next to her room, which must have been what had woken her up.

“Get a room!” she yelled, and went back to bed.


Meanwhile, Senator Chuchi was not looking very senatorial as tears of ticklish laughter streamed down her face. The stealth-suit wearing tormentress had pulled out a rotating brush of some kind, akin to an electric toothbrush and was applying it with devastating effect on Chuchi’s nylon-clad soles. She would gleefully pull back the toes on one foot, as Chuchi desperately waggled and jerked about, trying to shake the foreboding fingers aways as they pressed into the sensitive digits, but the resistance would be destroyed as Noush enthusiastically scrubbed away at the base of the toes. Chuchi was thrashing and writhing on the bed as best she could in her tied-up state as Noush cleaned along and in between the toes meticulously with the toothbrush, carefully teasing in every little sensitive fold and niche.

“Shall we resume our negotiations, dear Senator?” Noush said, with mock sweetness. “You know, it occurs to me, I have associates on Pandora. How do you feel about the idea of us paying a visit to your family and friends? Plenty of laughter to spread around…”

The idea of spreading around such suffering was unthinkable, and Chuchi despised this mercenary for making such a shameless threat. There was definitely no honour among thieves.

“Fine, she spat. Have the code. Leave my people alone!” As a resigned Senator Chuchi recited the code for the smirking vixen.

“It a pleasure negotiating with you, Senator. Now forgive me while I pay a visit to your Jedi friend. Here’s a little thing to keep you entertained,” Noush pulled out a cord and tied the tickling tool to Chuchi’s reddened soles. She turned it on, and took one last look at the Senator’s contorted, mirthful expression before leaving.

“Now for the Jedi brat…”


Ahsoka was snoring loudly in her bed, determined to ignore any sounds the clanking tin hut they called her quarters might throw at her. She was solemn in her vow that she would not let gallivanting couples interrupt her sleep again. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore it all, even as the Force niggled in the back of her mind, but as she found herself drifting between sleep and consciousness, she felt a nagging sensation in her brain trying to wake her up. The sensation became more and more insistent, sending shivers down her spine, till it became clear that Ahsoka was not imagining things. There was unmistakably a presence.

Ahsoka sprang from her sleeping bag – at least she tried to. She only got up an inch before slamming back down onto the floor. Her sleeping bag seemed to have metamorphosed into a cocoon overnight, with cords tied around her ankles, knees, sides and arms. The sensation that had awoken her up was a pair of fingernails lightly pinching and wiggling her toes.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” a dark-haired woman with a Cheshire cat grin said. “I do hope you forgive the interruption – these toes of yours are just too cute…” Ahsoka shuddered as the strange woman pinched and teased Ahsoka’s littlest toe. She tried to conjure the Force, but suddenly she noticed the furry creature in a cage next to her bed – a Ysalamiri!

The woman followed Ahsoka’s gaze, and giggled, all the while continuing to stroke Ahsoka’s toes. “I brought a friend with me – couldn’t have your annoying Jedi powers get in the way of our conversation.” Ahsoka gulped as she stared at the notorious Force-blocking creature – the presence of such an animal lead to even more questions: just who was this woman, what did she want?

“Whahahat do you want?” Ahsoka shouted, trying to keep the trembles out of her voice (somewhat unsuccessfully) as the mysterious woman continued to stroke and stroke.

“I’ll be right with you in a minute,” the woman said, as if she was dismissing a fan asking for an autograph. “Let me play with these tootsies just a little more…” Ahsoka was not about to be docile and wait as her feet were being tickled, but she had to wait as the woman in the dark cat-suit continued her playing. She cupped the smooth tops of each shapely foot with her palms and moved each foot around – the bottom of the sleeping bag seemed to have been cut away with a laser which was why the soles were exposed, but Ahsoka was too busy trying to hold in her giggles to be bothered about her sleeping bag being destroyed.

The woman made Ahsoka’s feet flex back, to show off the deep arches without wrinkles. She tittered, and dragged a slow fingernail down the center of her sole, digging deep and sliding the fingernail up her arch; Ahsoka yelped. The fingers went back up to provoke the toes, but Ahsoka’s toes quickly scrunched defiantly. “Little Miss Jedi doesn’t like having her feet played with, does she?” the woman teased. “Don’t be a killjoy…”

The queer woman applied just the right amount of gentle pressure against the round bottom of Ahskoa’s supple heels to force them to spread and hooked a finger into all the little spaces between each one, tormenting the sensitive gaps between each toe. Giggling to herself, the woman switched feet after a few moments and did the same to the other foot.

“These feet of yours are just too cute,” the woman laughed, as she pulled her fingers away and gave Ahsoka’s soles a needed respite. “Couldn’t help myself – never tickled Togruta feet before!” she nodded her head, poking Ahsoka’s orange soles again. “But down to business. My name is Noush Shadowmane, and I will be your tickler for the evening.”

“Wait, what?” Ahsoka was so dumbfounded she honestly did not know how to respond, which in hindsight, probably had been why Noush had said that.

“I’m going to be tickling you, silly! Everyone knows how tough Ahsoka Tano is… glad I could finally get my shot at you,” Noush giggled as she reached out a single fingernail and dragged it along Ahsoka’s heel, marvelling at the way the Togruta Jedi jumped at even this slightest touch.

Ahsoka had no idea how the tales of her ticklishness had somehow become so widespread even this random nerf-herder knew about it, but she had much more pressing issues to deal with, as Noush dug into her soles with all ten fingers. Noush’s fingernails meandered all over Ahsoka’s orange soles, which were reddening by the minute; she would always make sure to give Ahsoka a little extra special stroking every time she stroked along the arches and the toes.

“I thought Chuchi was ticklish, but you’re so much more ticklish it’s not even funny! Well, maybe it is a little funny,” Noush grinned toothily, as she flicked her nails right on the extremely sensitive spot just below Ahsoka’s big toe. “You sure are laughing a lot!”

Ahsoka couldn’t deny the torrents of laughter that were billowing from her lips as her tormentor tickled her responsive soles effortlessly – yet why had no one come to save her yet? Surely they could hear her laughter! To her dismay, Noush seemed to read her mind and leaned in to whisper: “Don’t worry, I sound-proofed the room. We won’t be interrupted.”

The Yslamari sniffed the air, and walked around in its cage, the only witness to Ahsoka’s tickle torture as Noush’s nails scribbled faster and faster.

“Now, frankly, I could tickle you till the cows come home,” Noush stated, as she wormed a finger through Ahsoka’s toes and wiggled frantically. “Yet I’m afraid to say I am on the clock here. I hope that doesn’t disappoint you,” she said sarcastically, as she raked her fingernails around the smooth ball of Ahsoka’s left foot.

“Juhuhuhust whahahaht dohohoh youhihihi wahahant!” Ahsoka bellowed in ticklish frustration. A bit of tickling she could handle, but she had just been tickled far too much these past few days.

“Nothing major,” Noush said, pausing to tickle Ahsoka’s ankles and the tops of the feet. She kept Ahsoka in more agonizing tickle-fuelled anticipation as the distraught Jedi waited to hear what these demands were. “Just your half of your code for the on-ship vault. I like me some pretty rocks. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

Ahsoka wanted to say “I won’t let you sabotage the Republic’s negotiations with Iridu!” but Noush was currently scratching her fingernails right into Ahsoka’s tender arches, so it all came out as “Ihihihihihi wahahahahant lehehehehehe ohohohohohoho gahahahahsh!”

“You need to mull it over. I understand,” Noush said, with a mischievous smirk as she pulled away from Ahsoka’s soles for a second and reached into her pocket. “Besides, I brought a toy I’m just dying to play with…”

Noush pulled out a varnished feather, black as her catsuit. She used one gloved hand to push back Ahsoka’s soles, rending the squirming sole taut and whisked the feather across the soft, ticklish flesh. The feather danced over the trembling sole, stroking gently on Ahsoka’s sensitive digits and sending the exhausted Jedi into an incomprehensible hysteria as tears stung her eyes. As the feather began to draw around her arches and soles, her heels and toes, and in-between her toes, Ahsoka bucked, and screamed as loud as she could for help, but the infiltrator had done as good a job as she claimed and no one was coming to her rescue.

There was nothing Ahsoka could do but writhe within the confines of her sleeping bed as Noush kept flicking the feather at her feet, and soon she was screaming at her to stop. Noush kept an iron grip on Ahsoka’s toes, so that she could trace up and down the soles with ease and keep the foot pinned in place. Noush pulled back the toes on Ahsoka’s right foot, and quick as a flash, the feather's tips found its way between Ahsoka's slender, long toes, and her protests turned into squeals and then giggles. She kept sawing back and forth, putting the soft skin between her toes through explosive agony. Her giggles kept coming, and soon she was shrieking as her entire body lit up with the tickling sensations coming from her toes – she was called Tickle Toes Tano for a reason, after all.

Once Ahsoka seemingly found a way to get her laughter under control, Noush released the tired toes from her grasp, while she scratched at the deliciously soft and sensitive soles with her other hand; all the while, the feather continued its toe teasing. The fingers crept from the ball of her foot to the heel and then from one side of the sole to another; the marauding fingers multiplying the sensations that the feather was causing.

Ahsoka somehow conjured the energy to curl her toes again, but the incredibly soft feather combined with the fingers sliding up and down her soles were sapping her will and her sanity at an alarmingly rapid rate. The scrunching of her toes also made the wrinkles in her soles become more pronounced, which made Noush giggle at Ahsoka’s display.

"Be a good girl and uncurl those toes...", Noush cooed. “Let me play with those toes again…”

Ahsoka shook her head defiantly.

"Oh, playing hard to get? I like that… now uncurl those toes for mister feather..." Nousk giggled, as she began tracing the wrinkles in Ahsoka’s scrunched up soles with the feather.

Ahsoka’s endurance quickly ran out as one strategic stroke of that diabolical feather under the toes made the Togruta’s laughter rise up to frantic levels, and she unwittingly uncurled her toes.

"Good girl..." Noush said, grin growing from ear to ear, as she immediately ploughed straight into the gaps between the toes with finger and feather, and Ahsoka’s found herself roaring with even more frantic laughter. By the time you realize you've done what she wished, it's too late....

“Ready to talk to me yet?” Nousk crooned softly, as she worked her feather in between Ahsoka’s toes, hitting all the worst ticklish spots. “I’ve already got Chuchi’s half of the code, and if you need more time to think it over, I can go back and play with her for a while longer…”

Ahsoka shook her head, and she couldn’t bear the thought of the Senator having to go through such unimaginable torment.

“I could make it even worse for her. I could make her really suffer. Could you live with that, Jedi? Letting innocents suffer on your behalf?” Noush said, in a whisper. And Ahsoka realized she could not. She never could. No Jedi could.

Her head drooped as she reluctantly gave Noush the information she required.

“Don’t be down, little Jedi!” Noush said, standing over Ahsoka and grinning. “There’s still a few more hours before my ship arrives to take me off this crate, so how’s about we enjoy our last few hours together. Smile!”

Noush spun the feather around, and took the pointy end of the feather and pretended to write something on the arch of Ahsoka’s foot.

“I’ll write an apology to the Republic here! Sorry for stealing your goods…” Noush recited slowly, as she scrawled her ‘apology’ into Ahsoka’s soles. Needless to say, when the mercenary finally left Ahsoka alone, revenge was very much on her mind. The loquacious woman had accidentally let slip she was on her way to the Smuggler’s Moon for her next mission and Ahsoka wasn’t about to let such a scoundrel get off scot-free…

Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: nudity and sexual themes)

The Aftermath on Lorraine!


It had been a fortnight after the Battle of Lorraine, or The Great Boudo Victory, as it was commonly referred to the city by the victors. Resistance had persisted after Paxim Commander Celeste had fallen in single-combat to Boudo Commander Todoe, but most residence had been eradicated after the first few days as the remaining Paxim warriors ran out of fuel and makeup (both were equally important in the Paxim’s eyes). 

Stockades and other bondage devices spawned out of nowhere, and it was a common sight to see a small crowd clustered around a nude/semi-nude Paxim soldier being tickled silly by a horde of giggling Boudo girls.

Today Commander Tomoe was heading to the sparring grounds, a pair of whooping Boudo warriors at her heels. Their discipline had been lax these days, even for Boudo standards, but the city was as safe right now as Boudo cities ever were. The sparring grounds were a good way to use the captive Paxims as guinea pigs for any weapons or techniques they wanted to utilize, not to mention, Tomoe knew better than anyone than her girls would get jittery just laying around for too long, and although a bit of in-fighting could be fun, it wasn’t the ideal time for it right now when a third faction could enter the fray at any given moment. The sparring grounds were a perfect outlet for all the tickle-energy that just had to be defused.

As Tomoe crossed a street that once would have been bustling with vehicles, she saw a crowd gathered around one of said outlets.

Commander Tomoe’s height allowed her to peer over the crowd, and she saw a copper-haired Paxim soldier tied to a street post, utterly devoid of clothing. The copper-haired girl was torn between laughter and moans as the crowd of Boudo females ruthlessly pushed her buttons. The copper-haired woman, whom Tomoe recognized as Captain Venus, a notoriously feisty and fiery Paxim gunner, was tied with her arms above her head and bound to the pole. Her legs were looped behind the pole, and bound, spreading her legs to the jeers of the hostile crowd. Tomoe couldn’t count how many fingers were tickling the Paxim captain, but there were definitely a lot. A bonafide swarm of Boudo fingers were engulfing the shrieking captain and fighting for ticklish spots on the infamous gunslinger. The tickling was making the captain buck up and down like she was dancing, as fingers invaded every inch of her body; Tomoe noticed fingers tease from bicep to armpit, tantalize and pinch the perky areolas, dance and squeeze all over the ribs, and rummage all over the stomach. The captain’s milky-white feet, with their prettily-painted copper toenails were an especially popular target too, as sharp Boudo fingernails scrapped and stroked all over the tender peds, which of course, were buttery-soft in according to Paxim regulations. 

The inner thighs and her womanhood belonged to tongues, which punished the Paxim captain with their ticklish pleasure. There was even a particularly lustful looking Boudo girl parting the captain’s copper-hair to lick and kiss along her neck and ear. Captain Venus seemed to be enjoying herself, based on the moans that were so intermingled with her laughter, but after a particularly sultry groan, one of the ringleaders of the crowd, a woman Tomoe recognized as Captain Mizuno, raised her hand, and bellowed. “Can’t let her enjoy this too much. No orgasm for you, Paxim!” the crowd bellowed in laughter at the frustrated moans and hip-thrusts from the copper-haired Paxim captain were ignored and the tickling intensified.

Tomoe could see her troops were quite eager to join the festivities, but Tomoe had a date, and she didn’t intend to miss it.

“Let’s carry on. You can come back here when you’re off limit.”

The two girls nodded reluctantly, but one of them whispered a crude comment in the other’s ear and they both burst out laughing.

Tomoe smiled approvingly at them and they continued their walk.

They came across bars and restaurants teeming with victorious Boudo warriors who were continuing their celebrations of affairs, and more than a few Paxim soldiers who had been rustled in as entertainment, which was a concept Tomoe had approved herself. A few Paxim girls being tickled silly made for a far better show than a live band, surely, Tomoe thought.

She stuck her head in the door of a bar, and saw a trio of Paxim girls with technicolour hair sitting in reclining chairs, their feet high in the air, some in nylon stockings, some bare. Patrons were pouring booze and other drinks down their soles and licking it off, or simply teasing with their fingers. Tomoe’s Boudo warriors were also far too well-trained to leave other body spots attended, so the girls would often have to contend with cheeky fingers dipping into their underarms too.

Tomoe watched the show for a while, there was a pink-haired girl whose long hair fell to her shoulders who seemed especially sensitive to a tongue sticking between her toes, which a short dark-haired Boudo girl was demonstrating, as she slurped and lapped at the Paxim’s pretty pink toes. A green-haired girl who seemed especially sensitive along her navel had to deal with a pool of wine continuously being poured along her stomach which the Boudo patrons would constantly dip their heads down into the stomach to suck, with much incidental but not accidental tickling in the process. The way she squeaked and threw her head back as a Boudo girl blew a raspberry filled Tomoe with such pride.

The third girl, a purple-haired girl with twin pigtails, was having the worst time of it, as the other patrons seemed to have deemed her the least tasty. As punishment for her the un-tastiness of her soles, they were gang-tickling her silly, with hands dipping into her underarms, a finger corkscrewing in her stomach, and fingers wedged between her dainty toes which were, of course, painted a bold purple.

Tomoe tossed a coin into a tip jar by the foot of the reclining chairs, reached out with a varnished finger (Tomoe had painted her nails a metallic silver she had pinched from the Paxim stores) to briefly tickle the green-haired Paxim girl’s foot, and left to cheers and whoops from the Boudo girls. There was something about those pampered, prissy princesses who thought they were such hot shit that Tomoe just couldn’t get enough of; she’d be quite happy staying in the bar and tickling those three Paxim primadonnas till the cows came home, but alas, she had a job to do. There was no rest for the wicked. Tomoe’s bodyguards were visibly reluctant to leave, just as Tomoe was, but a sharp whistle from their commander and they came galloping 

The three of them continued their tour of their city, till they arrived outside the sparring ground. It had once been the City of Lorraine’s Grand Coliseum, where the best fighters gathered to prove their mettle, but it had since been converted to more humane purposes. The Boudo warriors outside the coliseum gave their commander a cursory nodded, and Tomoe knew they were trying to sneak a peek at the sparring grounds over the fence they were guarding – they were Boudo, after all. It was in their blood to seek and savour battle. The sandy ground crunched under Tomoe’s sandals as she made her way into the field.  

“Afternoon, Commander. Here to spar again?” a voice said, coming from Tomoe’s ankles. The tall commander glanced down, and was not surprised to see the sight of Captain Hisoka buried up to her neck in the sandy ground. She was lying on her back, with the only thing besides her head that was unburied being her pair of slender bare feet. Hisoka’s bare feet wiggled energetically, a leather anklet on the right foot and a pair of bronze toe rings on the second toes. Tomoe knew the toerings were a testament to her valour in combat, as the toe rings were the Boudo equivalent of the Paxim war medal (but not as pretentious, and actually given for true acts of heroism). Tomoe also knew that Hisoka was a notorious tickle-glutton, a bonafide tickle fetishist who loved nothing more than being tickled on her feet. Her recklessness made her a liability at times, but she doled out as good as she got, and her love of tickling and bondage made her a real bitch to interrogate; Hisoka wasn’t a captain for nothing, and Tomoe could think of few warriors as tough as her in the Boudo clans. 

Naturally, Hisoka have volunteered to be one of those to undergo tickle endurance training, and free to tickle for any Boudo who wanted to hone their tickling skills on an opponent. Hisoka looked vulnerable with her silky soles already flushed pink, looking like they were tickled on a regular basis, but Tomoe was certain the strongly-built captain could burst free from her confines if she truly wanted too.

“You’re staring at my feet, Commander,” Captain Hisoka said, with a flirtatious smile. Tomoe smiled right back. She would be lying if she said she didn’t want to tickle those slender soles with those long, dexterous toes. Tomoe and Hisoka had trained together and had their share of tickle battles that often ended very… passionately, after all. “Those silver fingernails of your look very dangerous,” Hisoka said, wiggling her toes tantalizingly. “They almost look like daggers. I wonder how they’ll feel tickling my bare feet…”

The little minx was asking for it, and Tomoe convinced herself that a little warm-up might do her some good before her real battle.

“What kind of commander would I be if I didn’t heed the word of my warriors?” Tomoe grinned, as she cracked her knuckles.

Hisoka grinned even more widely and wiggled her toes in anticipation. “That’s the spirit, Commander! Go ahead! Sink those wicked fingernails of yours into my helpless feet. Gimme your best shot!"

Tomoe crouched down to the pair of feet, and after waiting a few seconds, and watching Hisoka’s red feet twitch in anticipation, she sank her fingertips into the soft, tender flesh of her soles.

"Ohohohohoho, Comahahahander!" Hisoka tittered, exploding into hysterics the instant her hyper-ticklish feet were touched. Her resistance was legendary, only matched by her incredible sensitivity on her soles. “Yehehehes, hahahah, rihihihihight thehehehere!” she called out, as Tomoe slid her fingernails across her soft arches.

“Don’t give me commands, Captain. That’s my job,” Tomoe said playfully, as she went up to tickle Hisoka’s splaying toes just to disobey Hisoka’s giggling remark.

"It thihihihickle sohohoho muhuhuhuch!” Hisoka howled, a giddy grin on her face as her feet danced wildly in the sandy ground.

Tomoe tickled faster and faster, loving the way Hisoka giggles and moans grew increasingly frantic with each new twist of her tickling fingers.  Her red Boudo soles were warm and deliciously soft to the touch, squirming gently and sensually beneath Tomoe’s wicked fingers, not trying to escape, but trying to intensify the stimulating sensations touch.  More than once, Hisoka would closes her eyes to savour the feeling of ticklish helplessness as Tomoe’s nails danced across her soles.  "Ooooh!" she squealed with pleasure intermittently, as Tomoe brushed across a particularly erogenous spot on her soles. “Keeheheep it cuhuhuming, Comahahahander!”

The faster Tomoe tickled, the more Hisoka begged, and so the more she would tickle, till Hisoka’s intoxicating laughter run loudly in her ears. Although the captain had some of the softest, most ticklish soles Tomoe had ever seen, yet she was an insatiable glutton for the tickle torment, continuing to scream out for more punishment as her soles rapidly turned pinker and pinker (or at least a deeper shade of red) by the second.  She struggles against the frantic need to escape the tickling, trying to force herself to hold her feet still.

The laughter met its peak as Tomoe began digging furiously into the crevices of Hisoka’s high arches, and as she screamed with laughter her eyes began to roll back in her head.  She tossed her head back, moaning and laughing at the same time as her feet throbbed for more and more of the tickling. In a moment of powerful climax, Hisoka let loose a piercing scream of hedonistic pleasure and slumped back, panting like she had just run a marathon.

“You… definitely… haven’t… lost your touch,” Hisoka said a giddy smile on her face as she tried to catch her breath. “I think that’s a new record, Commander.”

“Good to know I haven’t lost my touch,” Tomoe smiled, and then glanced over at the clock at the centre of the Coliseum. “But I really have to be going. It was nice seeing you, Captain. Maybe I’ll stop by later," Tomoe grinned, pressing a fingernail into the centre of her soft arch and making the dark-haired Captain jolt as she stood up.

“I’d like that very much, Commander. Oooh, my feet feel so tingly,” Hisoka giggled, as she rubbed her feet together. “Show those Paxim scum why we’re on top!”

Tomoe felt a swelling of pride as she waved goodbye to Captain Hisoka and stood up. Her fingernails were tingling too, and she knew she was more than ready for her real sparring. Her next opponent would definitely not be likely to just lie there and stick her feet in the air to tickle. And that was because her next foe was none other than Paxim Commander Celeste, in their private quarters.

Across the grounds, many battles seemed to have already been decided. Tomoe saw a sapphire-haired Paxim girl pinned to the floor by four Boudo warriors who were sitting on her limbs and tickling her silly everywhere at once, from her blue-painted toenails to the nape of her slender white neck. Tomoe saw a red-haired Paxim wench who boosted a very well-endowed physique who had lost to a pair of Boudo girls, but had evidently put up a good fight, as she seemed to be getting rewarded for it. One Boudo girl, sat on the redhead’s arms her arms creeping into the Paxim armpits, while the other Boudo had her face pressed into the Paxim’s womanhood, her tongue clearly wreaking ticklish and erotic havoc. Her fingers kept themselves entertained by teasing and tantalizing those large bosoms too.

But as Tomoe was nearing the private sparring rooms where she would be meeting with the Paxim commander, Tomoe noticed a particularly fiery training battle taking place between a Paxim and Boudo fighter.

Well, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to watch for a while before meeting the fancy-pants Commander… she was probably still going through her warm-ups anyway.


Warm-ups definitely had a different meaning in Boudo and Paxim culture, Commander Celeste reflected, as she lay flat on her back, eagle-spread on a cushioned flat surface. In Paxim culture, where refinement and grace actually meant something, warm-ups meant stretching, maybe a quick massage, and perhaps some light tickle manoeuvres; in the backwards Boudo culture, warm-ups clearly was some childish euphemism for brutish hijinks, as that was the only way Celeste could possibly explain what was happening to her right now.

It was so typical of those Boudo bastards to do something so underhanded right before the duel with their leader. She was being ‘warmed-up’ by no less than five of those Boudo peasants, though they seemed to be trying to compensate for their brutishness with a type of dogged persistence Celeste had to admire. The five of them were at five of her worst spots, one at each foot, one at each breast, and one particularly persistent nuisance between her legs. With her eagle-spread form, her moist and hairless womanhood was fully exposed and ravishing with loving attention from a mischievous Bodou girl and her ravaging tongue. They had lathered her entire body with some kind of sweet syrupy substance, which Celeste recognized as one of the sweeteners from the Paxim rations, and were licking it off her body as if they were famished wildebeests who stumbled across an orchard. Each foot had a Boudo girl lapping at the soles and along the pedicured toes, her breasts had a pair of Boudo too, suckling and nibbling gently along the areolas of her incredibly sensitive breasts. And the Boudo between her legs was a special sort of pleasurable agony. The jam-like substance also made her skin slick, all the easier for fingernails to skate across, for the Boudo would, naturally, never be content to simply tease her, they had to tickle her half to death too. The light nibbling of her toes was always accompanied by rough Boudo fingernails scratching along the arches and the tops of the feet. The soft lapping at her breasts was accompanied by a hand in each armpit, and a finger twirling along her taut, flat stomach. The hot tongue teasing her womanhood kept her hands busy by tantalizing her inner thighs of squeezing her kneecaps.

They were such cheaters. Post-orgasmic sensations always made the person much more sensitive, and Celeste was always sensitive enough to begin with. The Boudo brat at her left foot began a maddening nibble at her big toe, popping in the painted toe like it was a big yellow lollipop, and Celeste arched her back with a gasp. The tongue probing her womanhood continued its insistent licking, and the tickling of their fingers ensured Celeste would always be laughing as much as she was moaning, and they had gotten to know her ticklish body very well in the fortnight she had been their treasured captive.

There was nothing that could be done, Celeste told herself, as she closed her eyes and shuddered as her orgasm hit her. Divines above, it was the third one already, and they still weren’t stopping… She wasn’t sure how she would be able to walk straight, let alone fight such a hulking monstrosity like their towering Commander Tomoe. Celeste gasped as the suckering of her nipples made her body spasm with ectsacy. The Boudo seemed like a miserable lot, but she had to give them credit for this.

Not that Celeste was enjoying this or anything.


“Get her, get her!” Tomoe’s bodyguards shouted as they watched the sparring battle with exuberance. Tomoe laughed to herself, and crossed her arms as she watched the show. She had to admit, opening up the training grounds had been one of their better ideas.

Tomoe recognized both the combatants. One the right was recently-promoted Captain Kiriko. She was cat-quick, and a constant tornado of movement, her favourite daggers in hand. Her short dark-hair was moist from sweat from her constant exertions, however, but she seemed in better shape than her Paxim foe.

Their Paxim foe was Private Stella, a Paxim soldier who had distinguished herself with her, well, stellar performance in the last battle. She had showed a surprising amount of initiative for a Paxim princess, and she had taken out five Boudo in close-quarters before being stunned by a well placed poke to the stomach. The Paxim girl had hair as white as starlight, and her features were comely, like all Paxim, though that did her little good on the battlefield.

Tomoe crossed her arms as the two women circled one another, combat stances at the ready, with Captain Kiriko with her dual knives and Private Stella a feather blade in hand. Black, hard Boudo eyes stared against teary grey Paxim ones, as they both waited for the other to make the first move. Kiriko struck first – she aimed high with the knife in her right hand, but it was dodged as the Paxim private dashed forward and swiped a glancing blow at Kiriko’s stomach! The blow made Kiriko’s muscular abs spasm, and Stella raised her blade high, aiming for Kiriko’s breasts while she was stunned; Tomoe thought the battle might be over here and now, as daggers were terrible weapons for blocking, but Kiriko suddenly burst forward and tackled Stella down to the floor with a quick, explosive burst before the Paxim could complete her swing, and they both tumbled to the floor. In the ensuing scrum, blades where both kicked aside as they wrestled to the floor, pawing and grabbing at each other’s ticklish spots.

Kiriko, with the sharp instincts that was so undoubtedly a Boudo trait, made a beeline for Stella sides, which were exposed in the crop top uniforms the Paxim were so fond of flaunting their bodies in. Stella squealed girlishly, as despite her valour in battle she was just a puny little Paxim pussy, Tomoe knew. The Paxim’s knees were shaking as Kiriko straddled her and pinned her beneath her thighs.

“It’s over, bitch! Give up!” Kiriko shouted victoriously, as her fingers tormented the Paxim private’s weak stomach and sides.

Tomoe was just about to get up and go, as she thought the battle looked like it was over, but with a surprising reserve of strength, Private Stella managed to find the energy to reach up and squeeze the Kiriko's sensitive thighs, which as she was wearing the short-shorts that was Boudo regulation, were fairly exposed. "Bahahaha! Suhuhuhurender! Stahahahap it!" Kiriko squealed as white fingernails stroke her bare thighs, tantalizingly close to her rapidly-moistening womanhood. And Tomoe knew from the Captain’s initiation session that she went to pieces when she was teased in those areas.

The stalemate continued, as the Paxim girl continued her assault on Kiriko’s thighs, zeroing in on the sensitive red flesh around her inner thighs, while Kiriko tried to strike back by digging into the sides with renewed gusto, but the battle looked like it would be going on for a while longer, and Tomoe had a schedule to keep. She turned back to see the two of them rolling around the sandy floor, their sweaty, grubby bodies (the Paxim girl’s hair was looking significantly more mussed up) intertwining in a mass of arms, legs, and tickling fingers, and giggled to herself.

Time to visit Commander Celeste.


“No toys, no traps, no games. Just me and you this time, Princess,” Tomoe grinned, as she kicked off her sandals and stood on the sparring mat. Commander Celeste stood opposite of her, clad in her undergarments too, as Tomoe glanced down at her golden toenail polish. “You have a good warm-up?”

“You damn know,” Celeste hissed. Her womanhood was still throbbing. “What’s the point of all this? We’ve been sparring every day for two weeks now. You miss me, or something?”

“Miss tickling your soft Paxim ass,” Tomoe chuckled, as she lunged forwards and made a swipe with her right arm. Celeste dodged under the swing, and slipped her manicured fingers into her foe's underarm, causing the great towering Boudo commander to let out a boyish squeak. “Ehehe, you’ve gotten a lot better since we started. You should be thanking me.”

“Thanks,” Celeste sneered, as she narrowed her eyes.

Tomoe laughed, and put a hand to her head as if shaking in disbelief, then suddenly swung her leg down to the floor and swept Celeste’s ankle, sending the blonde commander to the floor.

“You always fall for this move!” Tomoe cackled with laughter, as she pounced on her floored foe. Once she was on top, her much larger frame would keep the dainty Paxim commander firmly pinned. Celeste wasn’t about to make it easy though, as she immediately attacked Tomoe’s muscular sides and stomach, aiming for her six-pack. Tomoe choked back another bark of laughter, but was able to disrupt Celeste’s attack by digging into her armpits while lapping at her white neck, which Tomoe had learned from previous spars that the blonde commander was quite sensitive.

And then suddenly, reaching out with her strong hands, she snagged Celeste’s slender wrists and pulled them above the Paxim’s head. Tomoe’s hands were big enough that she was able to hold both of the Paxim’s hands with one hand so the other hand was free to roam. And roam it did – scampering along Celeste’s taut underarms, along her stomach and belly button, and poking her sides and ribs. As Celeste squirmed and giggled under her, Tomoe could feel their nether lips grinding together as the tickling filled them both with the ticklebattlelust that was so common among both their faces.

More than once, Celeste’s moans would slip into her laughter, and her bright eyes would lock onto Tomoe’s dark ones for a moment, before closing them and laughing again. The Paxim’s constant gyrations, twisting, and ineffective attempts to free her arms simply grinded her womanhood against the Boudo's, till both of them could feel that rising urge within their loins, the same way it was every time they sparred.

Sensing now was a good time, Tomoe released Celeste’s arms so she could use both hands to stroke and tease the writhing woman’s bosoms, pinching and caressing the areolas. Her head leaned down to kiss and nibble the milky-white skin of Celeste’s collarbones as the Paxim commander cooed at the sensations.

“I want to talk to you about a ceasefire. And a prisoner’s exchange, I received a letter from my government today,” Tomoe whispered, as she nibbled Celeste’s earlobe.

“Good... We can discuss this later, Commander…” Celeste sighed. “Don’t stop…”

Tomoe laughed to herself, as she felt Celeste press her body against her, causing their sensitive clits to clash together as moist mounds grinded together with lustful urgency. Paxim really couldn’t keep a hold of their emotions, could they?

"This is my kind of battle..." Celeste whispered, before squealing as Tomoe suddenly goosed her ribs. 

"I'm competitive by nature," Tomoe grinned, tickling even harder, as their ticklish pillowplay took on a more passionate turn. 

Tomoe squeaked, as she felt a finger creep along the crevice of her belly button.
“But when you’re done… it’s my turn to be on top… I want to play with those toned abs of yours…” Celeste said breathlessly, licking her lips.

Celeste giggled and planted a few kisses on the hulking Boudo commander's stiff nipples, and lightly caressed the Boudo's muscular thighs. Tomoe's thighs shook and quivered as the sensitive inner thighs were teased by the Paxim's sharp yellow fingernails.


And so the battle of Lorraine ended, as Commander Celeste and the other Paxim were released because of a cease-fire and prisoner exchange between off-world Paxim forces. The Paxim and Boudo governments met at a neutral ground to put an end to this conflict between the two races

Commander Celeste, head of the Paxim forces and Commander Tomoe, head of the Boudo forces, shook hands as they signed their temporary treaty.

They vowed to meet each other to battle again.

Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: nudity and sexual themes)

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..."



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? 

67 deviants said Lowerbody
30 deviants said Upperbody



Add a Comment:
Orion1000 Featured By Owner 7 hours ago
Is there any chance of story where Ahsoka or Chichi lose one of their boots being written? Are you into shoe loss?
oneortheother Featured By Owner 6 hours ago
Can't say it is really a thing I am into, but they lose their shoes every story before getting tickled, no?
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!
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