Fox McCloud jumped into the cockpit of his Arwing and primed the engine for takeoff before sliding the throttle forward and thrusting into the empty blackness of space. Three other spacecraft left the docking bay with him.
“Check your G-Diffuser system!” he commanded. One by one, the members of his squadron radioed in.
“Falco here. I’m fine.”
“This is Peppy. All systems go.”
“Slippy here. I’m okay.”
He booted up the spacecraft’s autopilot system and punched in a set of nearby coordinates. A short trip, but long enough to brief his squad on the mission.
“This is an emergency mission. A cargo ship got ambushed near an uncharted system and most of its escort is down. Our mission is to rescue that ship.”
“A whole escort taken down by mercs? Amateurs,” Falco remarked.
“Either that or we’re not dealing with run-of-the-mill mercenaries…” Peppy added. “Star Wolf?”
“It’s a possibility,” Fox said. “If it’s them we shoot on sight.”
He heard Peppy sigh.
“We don’t always have to go in guns-blazing. We may be able to negotiate a cease-fire with Wolf.”
Fox clenched his fist hard around his ship’s throttle handle. “There’s no reasoning with morally bankrupt criminals, Peppy. You should know that.”
Peppy didn’t reply.
The system soon came into sight. An emerald marble with sparse splotches of a darker shade behind an irregular curtain of opal cloud formations. They honed in on a small dot that contrasted against the emerald scenery: the cargo ship. Around the dot, small flickers of light scintillated in brightly like fireworks.
“Target in sight. Let’s rock and roll!”
The cargo ship was analogous to a huge box with thrusters tacked on to either side, completely forsaking aerodynamics for storage space (which was, of course, the right design choice for a space-faring vessel). All around it, what remained of its escort was being swiftly culled by a mere four fighters. Quad-wings with white fuselages and red thrusters. A design all too familiar.
Fox gritted his teeth. “Star Wolf!”
The comms system crackled as they entered the combat area.
“Hello, Star Fox. Was wondering when you’d show up,” announced a gruff voice. “These Federation scrubs make for nice target practice but I could use a real challenge.”
“Attacking cargo ships now, Wolf? Is that what Andross pays you for these days?”
“Shut up and fight.”
They went in. Each squad member locked on an enemy fighter and drew its attention away from the ship.
Fox went for Wolf who was busy bullying an ill-equipped escort fighter. He positioned himself behind Wolf’s ship and fired his laser cannons, barely scraping one of the wings before Wolf barrel rolled off to the side and attempted a U-turn to get behind Fox.
“Ha! Nice try!” Fox said as he hit the brakes and watched Wolf fly over him and right into his line of fire. This time he managed to take out a wing.
“Grrr! Not bad, but not good enough!”
Wolf slammed the brakes and spun around a full one-hundred-and-eighty degrees to stand face-to-face with Fox’s fighter. He fired.
Dodging the oncoming barrage of lasers cost Fox one of his twin laser cannons.
With his main weapons at half their total firepower, he decided he’d have to rely on bombs instead. A less-than-ideal solution considering their lengthy lock-on and wide blast radius that could potentially engulf a part of the freighter. He needed to draw Wolf further away from it so he turned around and hit the jets.
“Tucking tail so soon? How typical,” Wolf taunted as he gave chase.
Problem one was taken care of. There was now enough distance between them and the freighter to eliminate any risk of collateral damage from the explosion. All that remained was getting the lock-on - only problem was Wolf wasn’t too keen on letting him stay on his tail for too long. No. The only option was to face him head on and survive long enough for the targeting system to get a fix.
Fox took a deep breath and turned the ship around, lining Wolf’s fighter with his crosshair and struggling to keep it that way amidst the laser storm unleashed by his rival.
Death was all around him as bright red lasers zipped by mere inches away from his fuselage. Wolf took out the tip of his wing. He stayed the course. Then his remaining laser canon evaporated. He persevered. The bomb was the only option now.
As soon as he heard the signal that lock-on was complete, Fox shut his eyes and fired the bomb. He pulled hard on the yoke to move his ship up and away from Wolf’s laser stream, but, just as he thought he was in the clear, his engine was hit and the ship surrendered to inertia.
There was a bright flash followed by nothingness.
The world faded back into view. Fox was slumped over the ship’s control panel. It was broken. A gentle breeze caressed the fur on his bloodied face. He looked up and saw that the canopy of the ship had been blown off.
Clouds.
He stepped out of the wreckage of his ship and onto solid grass-covered ground. In front of him there was an ocean of jade water as far as the eye can see. He counted himself lucky to have avoided crashing into it. Turning back, he saw a dense forest that seemed equally as endless.
The ship and all of its equipment were completely inoperable. All he managed to salvage was a small first-aid kit. None of the communication equipment survived the crash. All that Fox had on him was his flight suit and his trusty blaster. He placed a hand on the holster and felt safer knowing the weapon was there.
He would have to wait for someone to rescue him. Until then, he decided to explore the island on his own. Upon climbing on top of his ship’s wreckage to try and get a better view of his surroundings, he noticed there was a column of smoke rising from the forest not too far from where he was. He grabbed the first-aid kit and set off.
It was a short trek through the alien jungle until he reached the flaming remains of Wolf’s ship. One of the wings had detached itself from the cockpit and the nose was crumpled up like it had borne the brunt of the fall. The pilot was still inside the cockpit, bloody and motionless.
Without a second thought, Fox climbed atop the wreckage and felt Wolf’s pulse. He was alive! Fox hurried to undo the harness holding Wolf O’Donnell to his seat and pulled the heavier man by the shoulders, dragging him out to the grass. Despite his look, most of his injuries seemed to be small cuts and lacerations with the exception of a deep cut along his left arm from which an alarming quantity of blood poured out of.
Fox wasted no time in removing the denim jacket Wolf wore over his shirt before tearing open the sleeve. He took some antiseptic and a roll of gauze from the first-aid kit and dressed Wolf’s wound. That appeared to contain the bleeding.
As he sighed in relief, Wolf sprang up from the ground and punched him square in the snout. Stunned, Fox took a step back and reached for his blaster only to find it missing. He found in Wolf’s hand.
“Are you serious? I just saved your life!” he said.
“Saved my life? You almost killed me!”
Wolf’s finger was on the trigger. Fox had to be careful with his words.
“Look, I’m sorry about that but you attacked a cargo ship. What did you expect me to do? Ask you nicely to leave?”
“We gave them a chance to hand over the cargo! They called you instead,” he growled. “But I suppose that might have been a good thing after all because now I can finally end you.”
“And then what, huh?!” Fox snapped. “You’re stranded alone on some backwater planet with no way out and no one to help you. Is that what you want?”
Wolf growled and glanced at the bandage wrapped around his left arm. Fox saw him weighing his options and took the chance to press his argument.
“Look, like it or not, we’ve got better chances if we work together. Let’s call a truce, okay? Just until we get off this rock.”
“Fine,” Wolf grumbled, lowering the blaster. “But I’m keeping this.”
Night approached so they made finding shelter their top priority. First, they tried to salvage some of Wolf’s ship to build a makeshift tent but the scattered shards of metal proved either too small or too heavy to be of any use. Having no other choice, they set off to find somewhere to spend the night.
As they trekked through the jungle with Wolf leading the way, Fox dared to strike up a conversation.
“So, what kind of cargo was that ship carrying anyway?”
Wolf shrugged. “Hell if I know.”
“You attacked the ship without even knowing what you were getting out of it?”
“Don’t care. Client paid in advance to have it delivered and my involvement ends there. Not that it’s any of your business…”
“It became my business the moment I was called to stop you…”
“Don’t make me regret letting you live.”
“I could say the same,” Fox sneered.
Wolf stopped dead in his tracks and spun turned around to face Fox. “Look. Don’t go thinking I owe you something just because you patched up a papercut.”
“Papercut? You were bleeding out! You were going to die.”
“I’ve lived through worse. Unlike you, I’m not built like a twig,” he poked Fox’s belly to make his point and was surprised to see his rival recoil abruptly. “Oh? A little sensitive, are we?” He poked him again.
“Knock it off!”
“Hilarious! The great Fox McCloud is ticklish! What would your teammates say?”
“They’d tell you to stop goofing around and keep looking for shelter! It’s almost night.”
“Aww, but we’re having so much fun!” he said sarcastically.
The sun was setting fast and they had journeyed far enough inland that they couldn’t see the smoke rising from the torched remains of Wolf’s ship anymore. The vegetation became denser and the terrain rougher, but just as they were starting to worry, Fox spotted a cave entrance partially covered by a veil of dark green foliage.
They’d found their shelter for the night.
As the self-appointed blaster carrier, Wolf went in first. Luckily for them, the cave didn’t extend much farther beyond the entrance but was more than large enough for the pair to spend the night in relative comfort (if sleeping on an uneven rock floor could be called comfort.)
They found some dry branches and bundled them together on the floor which Wolf then shot with a bolt of concentrated plasma to set alight creating a source of light and warmth for the night. Just in time as it had started to rain.
They sat by the fire opposite of each other with nothing but the sound of heavy rain outside and the crackling embers between them. Fox glanced at Wolf’s bandaged arm.
“Let me have a look at your arm,” he said, reaching for his first-aid kit. “We should change that bandage.”
“Why do you care?”
“What do you mean?”
“That bomb could’ve killed me. Or I could’ve bled out before you arrived,” he growled. “If we get out of here alive, chances are we’ll be shooting at each other again in a matter of days. So what’s the point?”
Fox sighed. “I don’t like hurting you, Wolf. Or anyone for that matter… And I wasn’t about to just let you bleed out on your ship. Nothing can justify that.” Wolf remained silent and Fox took that as a permission to gently hold his arm and start unwrapping the bandage. “And besides, you haven’t shot me either.”
“Not yet, anyway.”
After changing Wolf’s bandage, the two slept through the intense rain, hoping that tomorrow rescue might come.
Fox awoke to strange voices outside the cave speaking a strange language. Wolf was nowhere to be seen and there was only his blaster lying discarded where he had slept. Fox took the blaster and carefully made his way towards the entrance.
As soon as he stepped foot outside, something hard hit the back of his head. Stunned, he dropped the blaster on the ground and, before he knew it, he was knocked off his feet and hog-tied next to a muzzled Wolf.
“Wolf! Are you alright?”
Wolf nodded, then directed his gaze towards their approaching captors.
They were tall and lion-like, with golden fur and large manes. There was nothing concealing their muscular physique other than simple loincloths. Their bushy tails swayed behind them as they regarded the hogtied pair with curious, catty eyes.
“Whatever my… uh… ‘friend’ here said or did to you, I’m sure he meant no harm. If you just let us explain- Ah!” His attempt to bargain was cut off as one of the felines hit him right between his ears with a stick while barking something in their strange language. Well, it was worth a shot, he* *thought, deciding it was best to keep his mouth shut for the time being.
Two of the larger men picked them up and effortlessly carried them along a jagged path deeper into the woods. They trudged along the wilderness until they reached what looked like a small village. Small, rudimentary huts cobbled together from irregular logs with roofs made of leaves were dotted around a main square. Upon the group’s arrival, the villagers rolled out a pair of wooden racks and wasted no time in tying Fox and Wolf spread-eagle to them using sturdy vines around their wrists and ankles.
Mercifully, they removed Wolf’s muzzle.
“When I get out of here, I’m going to wipe this pathetic excuse of a village off the face of the planet!”
“They can’t understand you, idiot.”
“They will when I’m dropping the bombs.”
A tribesman stepped out of one of the houses and walked towards the bound pair. The strands of silver fur around his ears and muzzle denounced him as the village elder. Orange eyes peeked from under his bushy eyebrows and scanned the pair from head to toe. He gave the other tribesmen a nod.
“What do you think that means?” Fox asked.
“Nothing good,” replied Wolf.
The man who had carried Fox approached him and pulled down the zipper of his flight suit, exposing his torso to the cool breeze. Fox closed his eyes and prepared for pain. What he got instead was the feeling of a rough yet slimy tongue dragging itself across his well-defined abdominals.
It tickled!
The man kept licking him again and again, and each time it was harder to contain his laughter. The crowd that had gathered around them cheered fervently.
“Oh, this is too good to be true,” Wolf laughed mockingly. “Better brace yourself, Fox. We both know how ticklish you are!”
Fox refrained from a retort only because he feared he might laugh if he tried to speak. In the end, it didn’t make any difference.
“Hahahaha! S-Stop it!”
The feline’s tongue was remarkably long and his saliva left behind a strange tingling that Fox was sure was having some kind of sensitizing effect on his skin as subsequent licks felt more and more intense. The feline licked faster and his body reacted accordingly, pushing out ragged guffaws from his throat and pulling hard on the vines only to find that them too sturdy to break free from. The crowd cheered louder. Evidently, seeing the outsider tied and tickled was the highlight of their day.
Only Wolf seemed to be having more fun than them, watching Fox laugh and squirm with glee, seemingly oblivious to the fact that both of them shared the same predicament
“It tihihickles!”
“It sure looks like it does,” he teased. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to see you so defeated. All this time trying to out-fly you when I should have just tickled you! What a shameful weakness to- Hey. Hey! Hands off!”
His indulgent reveling in his rival’s humiliation was interrupted by the feeling of his boots being pulled from his paws. He curled his toes as he felt them kissed by the humid air of the jungle. Wolf put on his scariest scowl and growled at the feline whose open maw approached his bare paws. “Don’t. You. Dare.” The noise he made as the alien’s tongue struck him right across the paw-pads was the very antithesis of that growl: “Aah! Don’t touch mehehe!”
Shockingly, Wolf O’Donnell was quite ticklish too.
This was news both to him and to Fox, who couldn’t help but feel slightly vindicated now that Wolf was being included in the tickle torture. Not that it made his own torment any more bearable.
They brought out additional vines to tie Fox’s waist in place and Wolf’s toes back so he could not curl them or move his paws away from that tongue. Clearly, they had no intention to make this quick.
Fox and Wolf were in for the long haul.
The feline licking Fox’s belly had now expanded his area of coverage all the way to his sides and up to his pectorals while the one at Wolf’s paws took a special interest in slithering his tongue in the furless patches of skin between his toes. When the tribesmen finally decided their captives had enough of their tongues they started to scratch at them with their claws - blunt in shape yet oddly rough to the touch, almost strangely well-suited to penetrate through fur and stimulate the skin underneath.
Their laughter boomed hard and loud, as did the spectator’s clamoring hoots. It was no wonder this tribe had remained uncontacted. Who would risk subjecting themselves to such humiliation?
More tribesmen joined in and, in a matter of minutes, both men were shirtless and barefoot as the torn remains of their clothes littered the ground around the racks. The alien that had bathed Fox’s torso in saliva now used his claws to toy with his sides while another feline nuzzled his paws and planted long licks from his heels all the way up to his toes and between them. He let out a squeal every time the man in charge of tormenting his upper body drilled into his hips with his blunt claws.
Meanwhile, Wolf wasn’t doing any better.
Due perhaps to his larger build, the tribe had decided it was fit to have four men in total torturing him. Two had taken a liking to his toes as their tongues swirled around the trapped digits with gusto, triggering the extremely soft and extremely ticklish skin between them, continuously increasing their sensitivity, while another dusted his abs with his bushy tail - yet another characteristic that this species appeared to have evolved with the express purpose of tickling their prey. The final tribesman was in charge of tickling his exposed armpits. He licked one while scratching the other and switched often to ensure both underarms got their share of sensitivity-heightening saliva.
As humiliating as it was to be reduced to laughing wrecks in the presence of their sworn rivals, there was a silver lining to Fox and Wolf’s predicament. For one, tickling was the least violent form of torture they could think of and, considering the uncontacted and unregistered nature of their captors, it was rather lucky that they were content enough with tickling instead of resorting to anything gruesome. Additionally, although neither would admit it, it was quite fun indeed to learn that the other could be subdued so easily by just a few touches to the right places.
Fox could practically picture himself handing in Wolf to the galactic authorities with special instructions on how to best punish him. Tight bondage, nakedness, and a platoon of prison guards (preferably feline or of any other species known for long, raspy tongues) to positively slather his paws in saliva. Enough days of that treatment and the mercenary might just turn over a new leaf. Meanwhile, he would be awarded private access to his sessions so he could watch Wolf’s large biceps and chiseled abs strain against their bonds as he is forced to laugh.
Wolf, on the other hand, wanted nothing more than to exploit his rival’s newfound weakness for his own personal gain. Blackmail, interrogation, coercion… the possibilities were endless. All he needed was to take an electric toothbrush and ravage Fox’s ticklish belly button or use his claws to destroy sides and armpits until he was begging for it to stop.
Alas, their wishes would not come true anytime soon. For now, they were (and would remain for the foreseeable future) prisoners of the tribe until they were either set free or given a chance to run away. Neither outcome seemed likely.
“Fuhuhucking stohop!”
“Help! Hehehelp!”
Their pleading fell on deaf ears. The tribesmen spoke among themselves in their strange tongue, seemingly exchanging information about how to best make their captives squirm.
As their morphology suggested, this species had naturally evolved to be expert ticklers. It extended beyond their physical characteristics as they easily picked up on the pair’s worst spots and zeroed in on them. What sort of environment could produce such a species? Was that why it had remained uncontacted? Perhaps, long ago, someone else had fallen victim to the tribe - someone clever enough to warn others against visiting and suffering the same fate.
After what felt like an eternity, and by command of the elder, the torture stopped.
They were covered in sweat, the tickled areas still tingling as if the claws, tongues and tails had never left, chests heaving up and down as they struggled to breath.
Was it finally over?
For now, it seemed like it as the aliens undid the knots and released the pair from the racks.
“You look like shit,” Wolf commented as he eyed Fox.
“So do you. Looks like I’m not the only one who’s ticklish, huh?”
“Shut up. You were laughing way harder,” Wolf growled, flustered. “Not a word of this to anyone, you hear me?”
Fox snickered. “Or what? You’re gonna tickle me?”
“I just might.”
They were walked towards the edge of the village and thrown on a crude, wooden cage just barely large enough for both of them. One tribesman stayed behind to watch over them as the others all went somewhere, seemingly in high spirits. They tried their best to get comfortable on the hard wood floor of the cage, but there was barely enough room for both to sit side by side.
“How’s your wound?”
“Fine.”
“Let me check.”
“I said it’s fine.”
Not convinced, Fox began gently unwrapping the bandage around Wolf’s arm, much to the mercenary’s annoyance. The bleeding seemed to have stopped and, miraculously, the wound hadn’t reopened during the torture.
“Doesn’t look too bad,” he concluded as he re-applied the bandage.
“Could’ve been a lot worse considering a bomb went off in front of my ship.”
“Wolf…”
“Save it, Fox. Just find us a way out of here.”
Fox let out a sigh and began inspecting the inside of the cage, figuring that the best way to make it up to Wolf for nearly killing him would be to get them out of there. He concluded that, despite its appearance, the crude construction was sturdy enough to withstand brute force. There was no obvious way out. He needed to look closer. One by one, Fox grabbed the wooden planks that formed the cage and tested their durability until, eventually, he found one near the bottom of the cage that showed signs of rot. Gripping it with both hands, he gave it a wiggle and found it to be much more flexible than the rest. That was their way out!
“I think we can squeeze through here.”
“What about him?” Wolf threw a glance at the man guarding the cage. “Think we can take him on?”
“Right now? No way, I can’t even walk after that… We need to rest.”
“That’s our plan, then. Rest up, break out and run like hell.”
That sounded fair to both of them. While Wolf tried his best to make himself comfortable in the cramped space, Fox placed his hands on the plank and gave it another push. The entire construction creaked and rattled loudly, alerting the watching tribesmen who quickly approached the cage shouting.
“Wait! I-I was just! AH! Hahaha!!”
The feline’s tail slipped past the bars and wiggled against Fox’s tummy. He recoiled and fell on top of Wolf.
“H-Hey! Get off of me! Hahahaha!”
Soon enough, more tribesmen came and started poking the pair all over their bodies, even going as far as holding their feet outside of the cage and tickling the soles. It suddenly became clear why the cage was so small. Try as they might, they could not escape the tickling. With no other choice, they endured their punishment.
“It wahas hihim! N-Not mehehe!”
“Gahahaha! I’m sohorryy! I-I’m sohohorry!”
After a few minutes of this, they were left panting on top of each other.
“I’m really… starting to hate… this tribe…”
“At least they didn’t… tie us up, this time…”
Fox refrained from touching the planks again for the remainder of their time in the cage - as short as that turned out to be. Their cheeks still hurt from laughing when a group of tribesmen unceremoniously dragged them out of the cage and back onto the village square where new devices awaited them.
There was an oversized wooden chair with a pair of stocks for a footrest and, next to it, a sturdy looking pole that jutted from the ground.
“Guess they were just setting things up for more torture, huh?” commented Fox.
“Seems that way. Get ready to laugh.”
Wolf was first. They led him to the chair and tied his wrists not to the armrests but behind the headrest with an overabundance of vines, thus exposing his torso. Then they placed his ankles in the open stocks and snapped them shut. For Fox, they forced him to kneel with his back against the pole and cuffed his ankles together behind it, His arms were pulled above his head and tied near the top of the pole. A final vine was wrapped around his waist, making it impossible for him to wiggle too much.
They were ready.
“I think they’re going to focus on my torso…” Fox said, noticing how exposed he was left from the waist up. “And it’ll be paws for you, judging from the stocks. You ready?”
“Like I have a choice,” Wolf grumbled.
The elder was there again, standing in front of them and issuing commands to the villagers. A single tribesmen went for each of them. One knelt down in front of Fox and regarded him with a pair of steely green eyes that struck fear into his heart. He didn’t need to understand their language to recognize a look of determination. He began by placing his fingers on Fox’s flanks, causing him to flinch. Then, slowly, he began gently dragging his claws up and down, grazing their tips along the delicate skin above his hips and below his ribs.
“He… Hehe… Hehehehe!”
He started giggling and tried moving away from the claws but found that the vine around his waist made that impossible.
“Hahahaha! Stohohop!”
It only took him seconds to start begging, this time. Although the tickling itself wasn’t as intense as what he had endured before, he was now keenly aware of something much worse - the fact that it would not stop for a long time. They were starting slow for a reason. It meant they were in no rush. They knew his ticklish spots and now it was time to abuse them. Even the choice of bondage seemed to purposefully expose his ticklish sides, his reactive pits, his sensitive abs, and his impossibly soft belly button.
“Stohohohp! STOHOHOP!”
Wolf looked on for a while, amused by the sight of Fox squirming under such a childish form of torture while he awaited his own turn. One of the tribesmen approached his bare paws and inspected them curiously. They were quite big, proportionate to his overall frame, and had four toes each that were tipped with sharp claws. The pink paw-pads contrasted nicely with the grey fur of the soles.
“What are you looking at, you oversized housecat? Never seen wolf paws before? Look closer so I can show you how my claws feel.” He tried to sound intimidating but the alien didn’t seem to understand or care. He merely spread two of Wolf’s toes apart and planted a nice, long lick between them. “GAAAH~! Hahahaha! Quihit it!” Satisfied, the feline continued licking between the wiggling digits, swapping to another pair every once in a while. A lifetime of wearing stuffy combat boots had left Wolf’s paws uncalloused and extremely soft.
The chair rattled as he pulled against the vines to no avail. The knots were perfect. This tribe had perfected the art of bondage. When he realized there was no chance of breaking free, he began to look for ways to make the torment more bearable. He tried to cover one paw with the other but that just resulted in punishment for that paw in the form of claws scratching the sole until it returned to its place.
Like it or not, he was condemned to endure the tickling for as long as the aliens saw fit.
Each drag of the feline’s tongue between his toes felt like tiny needles pricking at the surface of his nerves. Not painful but extremely ticklish. Wolf was damn near howling with laughter. He had to focus on something else. Anything! He scanned his surroundings but there was nothing to focus on apart from the crude huts and the crowd that surrounded him, their hungry gazes devouring the spectacle like it was their equivalent of a circus… No, he couldn’t bear to look at them. The humiliation was too great.
Fox.
He looked at Fox who was having his armpits scratched while his abs got an intense dusting from the alien’s tail. Like before, he found a level of enjoyment in his rival’s torment. The way he twisted to the right when his left pit was touched only to push his other pit right into a waiting claw… The way he sucked in his stomach every time that bushy tail passed over his belly button… How he kept begging for it to stop despite knowing they wouldn’t, all while laughing his head off… He found it… amusing. No, not amusing.
He thought it was hot.
Yes, that felt right.
Wolf O’Donnell got off on seeing Fox McCloud being tickled out of his mind.
That explained a lot, in retrospect. Like why he had felt compelled to tease him about his sensitivity before they got captured. Come to think of it, he did think about poking him a bit more when he got the chance… And he would be lying if he said the thought of sneaking in a lick or two didn’t cross his mind. Maybe he still could, provided they both made it out of this alive. As he became aware of this new fixation of his, he also realized something else.
His pants were getting awfully tight.
Oh no!
*That *was really not the time to get a boner! He quickly diverted his gaze back towards the crowd but was forced to focus on the tickling as another tribesman approached him from the side and began dragging his tongue all over his armpit.
“Ack! Hahaha stohop it!”
It was such a weird yet strangely erotic sensation. Did Fox feel the same way? No! He needed to stop thinking about Fox!
It was only a matter of time before the curious cat licking his pit took notice of the growing tent. When he gave Wolf’s member a curious poke through his pants, it was all over. Swiftly, the feline pulled his pants down to his knees and observed the member - big, wet and red. Knot fully formed and ready to copulate. Or, in this case, to feel the dense fur of the alien’s tail as it swished curiously over it.
“Hey! Hehehey! No! Nohohot thehehere!!” he begged as his cock was tickled.
The alien was pleased with his reactions. He stopped tickling and knelt down to give the shaft a long lip from knot to tip. Wolf bit his lip. It tickled, sure, but it also sent a wave of pleasure that meshed very nicely with the toe tickles he was still enduring. He… liked it?
“F-Fuhuhuck!”
“W-Woholf?” Surprised to hear a moan, Fox suddenly took notice of the situation. “Whahat’s g-going ohohn?” The sight of his rival being simultaneously tickled and sucked off stirred certain feelings within him. Precarious or not, the situation was starting to become undeniably hot, and he soon found himself pitching a tent of his own, something that another approaching alien took notice of. He sliced the crotch area of Fox’s flight suit open and pulled out his semi-erect member to engulf it within his maw much like his fellow tribesman was doing to Wolf’s.
“Gahaha! Mmm! S-Shihit!”
The combination was surprisingly pleasant. The tickling kept them nice and reactive, intensifying the pleasure they received which, in turn, made them feel even more sensitive. It was a nice feedback loop of bliss and tickling that both men found themselves enjoying greatly. If this was the alien’s idea of torture then perhaps it wasn’t so bad.
They were fellated near the edge of climax. Their bodies became numb to all sensation other than those wonderfully wet maws. Muscles tensed and breaths were held. They were about to cum. And then…
“Hey! Don’t stop now!”
“P-Please! I’m almost there!”
There was no more pleasure. Only a burning need to cum… and copious amounts of saliva over their members. Saliva that, as they had learned, had sensitivity-heightening properties.
The same thought independently crossed both of their minds at once: Oh*, fuck**!*
The aliens who had previously fellated them now raised their tails against their dicks. Their ticklish, sensitized, edged dicks.
“Wait! Wait! Please, anywhere but there!”
“Stop! STOP!”
It was useless.
The tails made contact with their cocks and began dragging up and down along their undersides. Their screams where nothing short of ear-splitting.
“BWAHAHAHA!”
It was as if every strand of fur on those tails was frozen, electrified, and on fire at the same time. They could feel each and every one of them on what might now be the single most sensitive part of their bodies. The mixture of saliva and pre-cum coating them meant the tufts of fur could glide effortlessly along the pulsating meat.
Not wanting to be outdone, the aliens at Wolf’s paws and Fox’s sides redoubled their efforts.
Thin vines were looped around Wolf’s toes, tying them back to the stocks and ensuring they stayed spread and immobile for another tongue-lashing. No longer content with just dipping between the canine’s digits, the alien now positively devoured Wolf’s toes from top to bottom, dragging his tongue everywhere he could and smearing that sensitizing saliva everywhere in the process. And, now that toe-ties were in place, his claws were free to play with the rest of the sole, further adding to the torture.
“HAHAHA! MY PAHAHAWS! NOHOT MY TOHOHOES!!”
He felt truly helpless. Laughing and begging at the top of his lungs for mercy that he knew wouldn’t come. Even if they understood his language, he doubted they would ever stop torturing him. If that wasn’t bad enough, he was still unbelievably horny and very much on the edge of climax.
Fox shared a lot of his frustrations, apart from having to deal with his belly button being eaten out like a bowl of tasty ice cream instead of having his paws tortured. Not that he considered that much of a benefit given how excruciatingly sensitive his belly button was.
The feline torturing that tender hollow nestled among his abs knew exactly what to do and that was to go completely crazy. He was on all fours, having abandoned his own dignity for the sake of having easier access to Fox’s midriff. He could feel the alien’s wet nose poke him just above the belly button while his tongue ran wild inside of it, circling its inner walls and licking across every possible direction quickly and sloppily. Just the way it tickled him most.
“BWAHA! PLEHEHEASE!”
He’d do anything for it to stop.
Once again, the only upside was that Wolf suffered along with him. It was a spectacle he didn’t expect to enjoy as much. Perhaps if things were different, they could get mutual enjoyment from something like this, Fox pondered. Not likely considering their existence on opposite sides of the law but an amusing thought nonetheless.
The cock-ticklers found their worst spots, which, for canines like them, was the plump portion of their cocks near the base. The knot. That special area that became oh so receptive to touch during copulation. Unfortunately for them, it couldn’t quite tell the difference between sex and intense cock tickling. The aliens were quick to notice how much harder they laughed when their tails swished over their knots so the choice to focus the torture on that area seemed like a logical one.
Once they put their new plan into effect, Fox and Wolf’s brains were hammered by ungodly amounts of stimuli.
How could it possibly get any worse? With the addition of two more ticklers, that’s how. They stepped out of the crowd and approached the pair from behind. The one behind fox dragged his claws all the way from his flanks up to his armpits and back down again while occasionally licking and nibbling. The one behind Wolf did something similar except he seemed laser focused on his armpits.
With virtually every ticklish spot stimulated, they were both truly in hell.
Desperate laughter echoed throughout the jungle as they were pushed to their limits in both mind and body. The crowd was ecstatic, seemingly taking great pleasure in the pair’s torture which only served to motivate the tormentors.
The licking aliens redoubled their efforts and devoured Wolf’s toes and Fox’s belly button with renewed gusto while their clawing colleagues tried their best to pinpoint the most reactive spots on their armpits. Lastly, the cock ticklers decided to step things up and went back to fellating the pair while ensuring plenty of ticklish licks to their oversensitive members.
“MAHAHKE IT STOHOHOP!”
“WOHOLF! HEHEHELP!”
Fox caught himself begging Wolf for help. That’s how he knew he had hit rock bottom. But what else could he do? It was too much! If he knew this would happen, he would never have taken on this mission. The alien fellating him ran his tongue over his tip and made him realize how close to orgasm he was. He braced himself to get edged yet again only for it not to happen this time.
Fox came. Fox came hard.
For a second, he felt nothing other than an explosion of pure bliss as he deposited his load inside the feline’s maw. He didn’t quite understand why but it was the most intense orgasm he had ever had.
As it died down and other sensations creeped back in, he realized something awful.
He was even more ticklish than before.
“AAAAHAHAHAHAHA!”
Nothing could prepare him for the unholy combination of the aliens’ sensitizing saliva and his body’s natural response to an orgasm - that being a wave of oversensitivity that was sure to last longer than he could keep his consciousness. It was the sensory equivalent of putting on glasses - he could now feel everything being done to him in excruciating detail.
The pit scratches and side squeezes were horrible, the cock tickling was unbearable, but the worst of all was, indubitably, the belly button licking. That was not a spot Fox was used to having touched, much less devoured by what must be the most tickle-inducing tongue in the universe. Minutes felt like hours while that slimy intruder violated the sensitive hollow. It swirled and twirled, circling and counter-circling inside his belly button, increasing its sensitivity exponentially as it left behind more and more saliva. Never in his life did Fox expect to be broken down by that. But alas, that day was a learning experience. And Fox was learning that he had a very, very ticklish belly button.
Wolf had mostly given up struggling and accepted his fate - a move rather unlike the hardened mercenary but it spoke volumes as to how effective tickle torture was at breaking him down. Like Fox, he had succumbed to orgasm and was forced to experience the after effects.
His poor paws suffered greatly.
Wolf wanted nothing more than to put his boots back on and never take them off again. That way his toes would be protected from the alien tongue currently deflowering them. The feline would even occasionally take each of the squirming digits into his maw individually to give them a proper bath in that sensitizing saliva. Paired with the cock and pit tickling, it made for a truly hellish experience.
Long after they had completely given up any hope and wished only for the sweet embrace of unconsciousness, they were finally released and dragged back to the cramped cage, covered in sweat, cum and saliva (well, mostly saliva). They were left alone to recuperate, sitting in quiet and scratching away the phantom tingling left by hours upon hours of tickle torture.
“Are you alright?” Fox asked.
“I’ll live. Just wasn’t prepared for that.”
“Me neither. I didn’t know I was that ticklish… Especially not on my belly button of all places.”
“Tell me about it.” Wolf massaged his paws. “I think I’ll start to go barefoot more often after this. See if I can build up callouses so I’m not as ticklish.”
The pair sat in silence for a while, waiting for the right moment to escape. They couldn’t help but wonder if waiting for the morning wouldn’t be wiser. After all, their tired muscles would not take them very far if they were to escape now… Still, the torture was fresh in their minds and the thought of undergoing another round compelled them to break free as soon as the opportunity arose, and, soon enough, it did.
“Hey, the guard is leaving,” Wolf whispered. “Maybe he needs to take a leak or something.”
Fox nodded. “It’s now or never.” He placed his hands firmly against the flimsy plank he had found earlier and gave it a hard push. It snapped loudly in half and left a gap just large enough for them to squeeze through.
“Go! Go!”
Fox slid out of the cage with ease but Wolf needed to be pulled through due to his larger frame. They ran and didn’t look back, hearing the tribesman’s voices calling out behind them. Their knees threatened to give up with every step but they still kept running, unable to shake the feeling that, if they stopped even for a second, they would be immediately caught and dragged back to the village for more unbearable torture.
A light.
There was a bright light shining in the distance. Could it be?
“Fox!”
Peppy’s voice.
“Hey! I’m over here!” Fox shouted, overjoyed. They broke through the dense jungle and into a clearing where Team Star Fox awaited.
“Fox! Are you okay?” Slippy asked. “W-Why are you naked?”
“More importantly, what’s he doing with you,” Falco said, aiming his blaster at Wolf. “Did this bastard do anything to you?”
“Wait! Don’t shoot!” Fox intervened, stepping between Wolf and Falco, much to Falco’s confusion. “He’s injured!”
The moment of tension escalated into a full-on confrontation as members of Team Star Wolf stepped out from the bushes with their blasters drawn, one for each member of Star Fox.
“Drops your weapons!” Panther shouted. He looked over at Wolf. “There you are. I was starting to think I was going to have to take over as captain. Just give the word and these assholes are dead.”
“Stop it, damn you!” Wolf growled. “Let them go.”
“…What?” Panther said in disbelief.
“I said let them go. There’s no point in killing them here.” He stepped towards Panther and lowered his blaster. “Just get me off this rock.”
“As you say, captain.” He threw a venomous look at Fox. “You got lucky this time.”
As he walked away with his team, Wolf looked back one last time. “Until next time, Fox.”
Fox watched in silence as Wolf disappeared into the jungle with his team. He felt Peppy’s hand on his shoulder.
“Let’s go, Fox. We should have you looked at.”
“I’m okay, Peppy. I really am.” He sighed, glad to be back with his team. But, deep down, he knew he had to meet Wolf again. In secret, if he had to. Maybe he’d be hostile, maybe not… sooner or later, they would have to talk. “Let’s get back to the ship… I need to think.”