A Ticklish Deception

Starfighter pilot Max Anders lay nude on a plank of metal-plastic. Bands of the same material held his arms and legs in place, and a more complicated set of clamps held his big toes in place and crammed wedges of some squirmy rubbery material between his other toes. His feet, even more than his arms and legs, were thus held helpless and vulnerable to his robotic captor.

His plank slid into a body-sized transparent tube – or the tube slid over the plank – Max couldn’t tell which. Synthetic fingers extruded from the base of the tube, tipped with a variety of fibers, both soft and firm. Gently at first, and then with more vigor, they began to stroke the soles of his feet. Max couldn’t keep himself for squirming and laughing, especially when more fingers extruded from the sides of the tube to tickle ribs, legs, and belly. However, Max knew from the previous bout that his feet would get most of the tickling, and that his belly would get much of the rest. The tickling elsewhere would be sporadic, just enough to keep him struggling and sensitized.

Given a choice, Max preferred to tickle rather than to be tickled. If he did have to be tickled, he preferred to have it come from feminine hands, rather than through this mad robot-machine. But Max didn’t have a choice. As his involuntary chuckles continued, he pulled as hard as he could on his bonds, and found, unsurprisingly, that he couldn’t budge them.

He could turn his head though, and he did so. That brought into view Melody, standing vertically in her own transparent tube. The space-pirate catgirl had her arms raised over her head, with metal-plastic clamps restraining and supporting her at her wrists, waist, and ankles. Smaller devices restrained her tail and toes, leaving her vulnerable to a tickling of her own.

Vibrating combs ran through her fur, and her feet – surprisingly soft and human looking – suffered tickles similar to those being imposed on Max’s own soles. She giggled uncontrollably, eyes closed and ears twitching.

Max knew that he had to hold out. Rescue should be no more than a few hours away – but those hours seemed to stretch away like days. Even so, until that rescue arrived, they had to avoid... Had to avoid revealing...

The tickling devices increased their tempo, in one of the semi-random bursts programmed into their controller-unit, and Max’s feet seemed to suddenly triple in size and sensitivity. “Hahahaha Hohoha HAHAHAHAHA!”

Six hours earlier Max had bared his teeth in a rather different expression, as the bolts from his quad auto-blaster overloaded his target’s shields, sending the pirate starfighter into stasis. A tight turn then sent his own scoutship hurling back on the heading that would take him into the nearby asteroid field. An answering blast from the remaining pirate fighter just barely grazed his own shields, reducing them from twenty-six percent to twenty-five. “It’s one-on-one now, Melody,” he called into the comm.

“Good shot Max,” a familiar feline voice came back. “Holly will be pissed, when she’s thawed from stasis. But your shields can’t be too healthy, now.”

The catgirl was right, dammit. If he turned and engaged Melody in a furball, here in the open, he’d loose. One or two solid hits from her would put his own fighter into stasis. And when he was thawed from the stasis field, he would be her mirlivima, a barefoot pampered prisoner, her pet until the next prisoner-exchange.

Officially, the Epsilon Conventions didn’t recognize the custom of mirlivima. Unofficially, however, it was common among both the Sagittarian Pirates and the Orion Commonwealth – especially among the starfighter pilots on both sides.

M’rerallie Clan Chumf took potshots at the fleeing scoutship as she sent her gunfighter in pursuit. She should still be able to win, even if Max made it to the asteroids. But if he did reach the asteroids, he’d have a chance at one trick, one shot. And if it worked, she would be his mirlivima. Again. It wouldn’t be a bad thing, she though, remembering the way those human arms, with their unnatural endurance, had cuddled her. Had petted her. Had tied her down for tickling...

But it would be even better if she won this fight and he became mirlivima. She savored the memory of the one time that had happened, how he had knelt nude and barefoot before her while shewore the boots. She grinned human-style. That grin would have appalled her ancestors, but in these modern times both the Pirates and the Commonwealth were a medley of species. The catlike narnow could be found on both sides now, as well as the apish humans, reptilian sarm, avian baylee, and a dozen others.

It would be nice to have Max as mirlivima again. But first she must win this fight.

Max reached the fringes of the asteroid field, and picked out one of the oversized chunks of rock. He’d have just one shot at this. He slid his scoutship behind the asteroid, and braced to make a hairpin turn, to come out again at Melody from an unexpected angle. But before he could start his turn, his sensors lit up. A second later, he found his scoutship trapped in an energy web. A few more seconds after that, Melody was caught as well. She had come screaming around the asteroid, in a bid to catch Max before he could play his trick. It might have worked, too, if it weren’t for the third party that had captured them both.

Ion beams blasted up from the surface of the asteroid, and Melody’s shields began to fail. Max had one last trick to try. He downloaded his sensor files, and launched a message drone. Bigger than a missile, it was still too small for the energy web to catch, and it streaked off. Max breathed relief at its escape. It should bring help from Tender 94. Or – worse case – the Amazon Princess, the pirate ship that Melody and Holly flew from, would spot the drone and backtrack it.

It was lucky he had the drone, but Max didn’t know if it was good luck or bad. He only had the drone because he’d been flying alone, on a milk-run mapping sweep that shouldn’t have stumbled onto the pirates at all.

The ion beams sent Melody’s fighter into stasis. They then turned onto Max’s scoutship.

When Melody came out of stasis, the twitch of an ear later in her personal time, the only light came from her instrument display. She considered the readouts: Dead, drained, 0%, standby power only, then popped the canopy and began to climb out. Manipulators came out of the dark in the chamber beyond, seizing her and stripping away her flight suit, before carrying her away.

They left her kneeling on a plastic-metal floor, wrists and ankles fettered with chains that felt and smelled like meteoric nickle-iron. Another chain ran from the collar on her neck to a ring set in the floor. The lights came up, and she saw Max three meters in front of her, spread-eagled on an upright metal-plastic surface, pinned in place with nickle-iron bands on his own wrists and ankles, and as nude as she was. More nude than she was – he didn’t have fur. She wondered if she looked as dismayed as he did.

Computers and robotics of an unknown technology lined the walls of the chamber. Badly damaged equipment, looking like an asteroid-worm had run amok before dying from oxygen poisoning. And the silicone body of such a worm did lie off to the side.

A green glowing light appeared between the two captive pilots. “Greetings. I am -” <unpronounceable burst of static>. “You are captives of a superior computational intelligence, namely myself. As inferior organic lifeforms, you will soon be put to death, so that your death-struggles may be recorded for proper psychological-scientific study. But first I must interrogate you as to the appropriate method by which I may kill you.”

“Why should we tell you that?” Max asked.

“Because,” the green light answered. “I have been damaged. I cannot do other than answer your questions fully and truthfully, and I likewise expect that you will answer mine. And because: My damage has also erased the information that would allow me to determine the answer myself. And because: My sensors show that all the stars within 102 light years of this position have been destroyed. From this I deduce that you are the last two of your respective species. From this I further deduce that you each bear an extreme emotional hatred for the other. From this I further deduce that you each will therefore cheerfully tell me how the other may be killed.” It paused. “The female will answer first: How may her enemy male be most appropriately killed?”

Melody pressed her tongue against her teeth and thought fast: This thing, this robot-monster, was crazy, blind, and ignorant. And still deadly dangerous. But if she could fool it...

“Tickling,” she said. “His species is vulnerable to light stimulation of his naked skin while restrained, especially on the soles of the feet. It causes involuntary laughter and involuntary attempts at movement which are signs of extreme agony. Prolonged tickling will kill him.” She held her breath, hoping that this mad computer would buy her tale. She saw Max’s left eye close and open again, saw him take a deep breath of his own.

“You pussy!“ he bellowed at her. “You no-good rotten-livered mangy-furred pussy!”

Melody bristled at him, the fur on her back rising. Then her anger froze and fell away as she belatedly recognized the ‘wink.’ It wasn’t a native narnow gesture, nor was it common enough to have been widely adopted. So it took her a moment to realize what it meant: That he knew what she was doing, and that he was acting along.

She hoped that they could succeed with their little play.

“From the emotional reaction I deduce that you are speaking truthfully,” the robot-thing told her.

Max balled his hands into fists to stop himself from grinning. They’d fooled this mad mechanical monstrosity. Probably. Maybe. It would be his turn, next. “And now I ask the male: How may his enemy female be most appropriately killed?”

“Tickling,” he ground out. “Her species is at least as vulnerable to tickling as mine is. Possibly more so. Certainly the reactions are similar.”

“From the emotional reaction I deduce that you are speaking truthfully, but not completely. From the emotional reaction I deduce that you are attempting to withhold information. From the emotional reaction I deduce that you feel an inappropriate sense of mercy because your enemy is female. This is not acceptable. You will answer truthfully and fully.”

Max swallowed, cleared his throat to buy time to think. “Yes,” he said at last. “I left out that the tickling must be intermittent. It must not push her to the point of unconsciousness or voiding waste. If it is, she will die quickly. So she must be allowed periods to recover, or partially recover.”

“From the emotional reaction I deduce you have now revealed the information you attempted to withhold. However,” its attention shifted. “Female: Have you also withheld information? Should the tickling of the enemy male also be intermittent?”

“Yes,” Melody answered at once. “I though you already knew that.”

“I now have extracted the necessary information. You may now have 0.25 hours to speak with whatever daemonic beings you imagine to exist, and then the executions will commence.”

The first part of the tickling took place entirely in the dark. Melody could feel, but not see, the metal-plastic bands keeping her arms pinned over her head and holding her waist and ankles. She could feel, but not see, the additional clamps restraining her tail and her toes. She could hear, but not see, Max guffawing close by, and she could hear and feel, but not see, the vibrating combs that ran through her fur.

Those combs sent delicious tickle-sensations into the skin beneath her fur, making her giggle. Even better were the soft brushes that she could feel (but not see) working their way over the soles of her feet. Those feet had been declawed when she was a young kitten, “so that she could wear shoes and boots, like a civilized person.” And years of boot-wearing had left those feet tender and wonderfully ticklish.

Melody enjoyed being tickled, but she hated to admit it. And now she had more than just embarrassment motivating her. Their whole plan depended on her hiding from this mad machine just how good its tickling felt to her.

Now the unseen devices were probing and massaging her belly with synthetic fingers. Not a slow soothing massage, but a quick, energetic tickling massage that made her laugh and try to squirm away. But the devices adjusted, and she could not escape their touch.

Now a broom swept over the soles of both her feet, feet held perfectly still and helpless, completely vulnerable to the tickling sensations that seemed to travel halfway up her legs, that made her stiffen and yowl.

The stupid thing holding them prisoner had to recognize the pleasure in the noises that it was forcing from Melody. But somehow it failed to do so. So there was still hope of rescue.

Just not soon.

Max laughed in the dark as soft brushes wandered lightly over the soles of his feet, covering every square millimeter of surface. As more soft brushes spiraled around his belly button. As an occasional touch stroked his arms and legs, his ribs and behind his knees, making him jerk and howl.

Somewhere to the side he could hear Melody giggling and yowling, but he cold not spare attention to that. Not when the bonds holding him down began to vibrate, sending tickle-sensations into skin he had foolishly thought to be protected. The clamps holding his toes vibrated as well, tickling the sensitive places around and between them. He gasped and howled his laughter. And howled even louder when a set of stiffer brushes moved over his insteps, the balls of his feet, and his insteps again.

This was intense. If the situation weren’t so dangerous he could, well not relax, and enjoy it. As it was though, they had to keep fooling this damn crazy machine until rescue came. That meant he had to hold his tongue. He couldn’t keep the tickling from making him laugh, and try to thrash, and pull uselessly at his bonds. But he could keep from speaking. Had to keep from speaking. Had to... had to... “Hahahahoho... Oh... HahohoHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

As promised, their captor released them – briefly – so that they could catch their breath. Mechanical manipulators pulled Melody out of her tube, away to where she could relieve herself and gulp down water.

“I deduce,” the green light said, floating near her face. “You consider this prolongation of your death agonies to be unnecessarily cruel. However: It is necessary so that they can be properly studied.”

Melody pressed her tongue against her teeth. Anything that prolonged the tickling was fine with her, but the whole plan depended on this robot monster not learning that.

“A possibility,” the thing went on. “You might take comfort in the fact that what I learn today may be used in the future against other organic lifeforms who would have been your enemies if you had lived. But now the executions are to resume.” Melody felt the mechanical grabbers lift her and carry her away.

As the grabbers set her in place in the darkness, she saw the green light float near Max’s face. “I have retrieved a data fragment from memory. The custom exists that an executioner should ask the condemned if he has a last request, and to grant that request if it is sufficiently trivial. Therefore: Do you have any last request to make before your execution resumes?”

Once again Melody pressed her tongue against her teeth. If Max should say the wrong thing – if she should say the wrong thing – if the robot monster should figure things out...

“Yes,” Max said. “Turn the lights on.” He snarled at their captor. “I wish to see my enemy die, before I do.”

Very good! Melody thought. Her ears came forward in appreciation. She made them lie flat, as if she were angry, and her tail twitched with the effort.

“And what of you, female enemy of the male,” the green light asked her. “Do you also have a last request?”

“Yes,” Melody said. “I also want the lights turned on. I too want to see my enemy die before I do.”

“Illogical,” the thing said, and Melody’s heart skipped a beat. “Only one of you can see the other die. However, this will provide a useful additional datum. The request is granted.” The lights went back on, and as the manipulators once again applied metal-plastic bands and restraints Melody heard Max breath out in relief. Just as she did herself.

Max was lying on a plank, she saw, with metal-plastic bands holding his arms at his sides, and more bands restraining his legs. A complicated clamp-arrangement held his toes, keeping his feet in place, keeping his soles vulnerable for the tickling.

Melody herself was held in the same standing position as before, but now she could see the metal-plastic restraints holding her arms over her head and clamping her waist and ankles. Her toes were held by an arrangement similar to Max’s, and her tail was restrained as well.

Transparent tubes moved to enclose the two of them, and synthetic fingers extruded from their sides and ends. The tickling resumed.

“Hahahahe... hohoho-hahahahahoho!” she heard Max laugh.

“Hahaheeheeheeheehahaheee!” she giggled herself as once again vibrating tickle-combs moved through her fur. As once again rubbery artificial fingers massaged her belly with quick, tickle-inducing motions. As once again soft brushes moved here, there, and everywhere over the bare soles of her bare feet. She closed her eyes, squirming and laughing involuntarily as she let the wonderful tickling sink into her.

And now the tickle devices were focusing on the back of her knees! And now they were tickling her t-tail! Her tail! It was as ticklish-sensitive as her belly. Her belly! Now the tickle-combs were clustered around her belly button! It was as ticklish-sensitive as her feet! Her feet! Combinations of stiff and soft ticklers were now alternating over the soles of both of her feet, ball and instep and heel, along the arch and in and among her toes! She was being flooded with wonderful exquisite tickle-sensations.

And then the cycle began again, with just enough variation to keep things interesting. And then a third time...

Another brief break, and then the manipulators pulled them back for more tickling. This time Max, feeling rather limp, found himself fastened in a standing position, while Melody was strapped flat to the metal-plastic plank.

He would sleep for a full 24 hours after being rescued, Max told himself. Preferably with Melody chained nude in his bed as his mirlivima, but if it turned out the other way ‘round – if the pirate’s Amazon Princess rescued them, rather than a Commonwealth force – then that would be OK too.

“An observation,” the green light said to him as the bands were fitted into place. “Your reserves are drawing down. They were greater than the female’s, but you are also expending them more rapidly. You will soon reach the state of ‘dead tired,’ when you become exhausted and your life-processes cease. It will not be long, now.”

“Yes,” Max agreed in a listless voice. Tiring as it was, this tickling wasn’t anywhere near to being lethal. But what this crazy machine-thing didn’t know – would hurt it, Max decided. “Yes, it won’t be long now,” he lied.

The transparent tubes slid over Max and Melody, and the tickling resumed.

Melody felt pleasantly limp as the tickle-devices forced giggles from her. She would sleep a whole day when this was over, she decided. Preferably with Max chained in her bed as her mirlivima, but if it fell out the other way, then so be it. It would depend on who rescued them: Her friends in the Amazon Princess, or Max’s comrades from the Commonwealth.

In the mean time she had to lie there, squirming weakly and giggling, and hope that the robot-monster tickling her didn’t figure out the difference between her being dead tired and dead.

And in the even shorter term, there was a whirring at her feet to focus her attention. Something that felt wooly, like a puff of synthetic yarn, moved in to buff her soles. Soles that were held rigidly in place, There was no escape as the buff-thing moved back and forth, back and forth: Her soles were helpless and vulnerable before its tickling, and she could only laugh and laugh and laugh.

The combs came back, vibrating through her fur, tickling legs and arms and ribs. The finger-devices joined in, tickling her belly. And for the first time one reached right into her belly button. “EEEeee! Heeheeheehahahaheeheehehe!” she squealed.

Then her soles were getting it again, with a combination of implements that brushed and raked her heels, insteps, and the balls of her feet. A mixture of twig-stiff and fur-soft tickling that still felt diabolically wonderful even after all she had already been through.

She could hear Max nearby, laughing hard as he went through his own tickling. If she turned her head, she could see him, trapped in his own tickle-cylinder. His struggles were still strong, thanks to his incredible human endurance, as dozens of tickle devices extruded from the walls of his tube to tickle ribs, belly, legs, arms, and especially the soles of his feet.

Just like her own tube was doing to her. Since there was nothing else she could do except await rescue Melody closed her eyes and once more let herself give in to that exquisite, delicious tickling.

Vikki LeBold, the engineer of the Amazon Princess, went through the breach first since she had the ship’s only suit of powered armor. Following her were Melody’s cousin Holly and two of the crew, wearing force-field belts that doubled as spacesuits. The four women – two human, one narnow, and one baylee – all carried blaster pistols, and Vikki had her suit’s carbine as well.

“You cannot possibly exist,” a green ball of light told them. “Other than my two captives, no sapient organic forms exist within a hundred light-years of this position. Therefore: You cannot possibly exist. Therefore: My sensors are malfunctioning. Therefore: The damage you appear to cause must actually be caused by an asteroid-worm. Therefore: I will increase the oxygen content to kill the worm.” The green light then vanished.

“Double-damn,” Vikki muttered as she looked around at the unrecognizable tech lining the walls of the chamber. “It’s some kind of robot station, but double-damn if I can recognize who – or what – built it. All right,” she said to her followers. “We search this place and smash everything we find. Be double-damned sure you don’t breach any bulkheads, but other than that, wreck everything you find. Follow me.”

They made their destructive way to the chamber where Max and Melody were being tickled. “Melody?” Holly hurried forward to her cousin.

“Hahaheehee...Holly? Hahahaheehee,” Melody answered her cousin through her giggles.

“And Lieutenant Anders, too, it looks like,” Vikki said. “OK, people, cut them loose and lets get them out of here.” Leaving that task to her underlings, she moved around the chamber, systematically blasting the robotic and computer gear along the walls into so much junk.

Max and Melody continued to laugh. The tubes containing them still continued to tickle even after being detached from their supports and cables. “They must be running on residual power and programming, ma’am,” the baylee female chirped. “And we can’t get them open.”

“Take them straight to the Princess as is, then,” Vikki decided. “We’ll get them out later. The robot brain running this place was double-damn crazy, but I don’t think it was so crazy that it wouldn’t have a scuttling charge.”

So it proved. Max and Melody giggled uncontrollably as they were taken aboard the Amazon Princess. The tubes kept tickling them as the pirate ship pulled away.

Fifteen minutes later, the asteroid exploded. Only then did the tickle-devices fall limp, the tickle-tubes shattering into shards and the metal-plastic bonds releasing their prisoners.

fin