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SLOW DAY IN GEOSYNCHRONOUS ORBIT by shemthepenman@hotmail.com
The teleporter tube crackled, and Shiera Hol, known to the inhabitants of
the world below her as Hawkwoman, stepped out onto the deck of the
JLAsatellite.
A familiar figure rose from the monitor console. "Hello, Shiera. What brings you up here?" asked Wonder Woman.
"There's nothing happening."
"That may not be true," Hawkwoman responded. "I just received a message from
Batgirl, asking me to come here."
As if on cue, a panel on the
monitor console chimed. Wonder Woman looked down at it. "It's Batgirl, using Batman's codes. She wants to come up." She tapped a few controls. "It's unusual, but she wouldn't bother us if it wasn't
important." The tube crackled once more, and Shiera looked away from the huge observation window to see Batgirl step forth. In one hand, she carried a cloth sack filled with things that clinked faintly. With
her acute vision, Shiera noticed that Batgirl seemed to be wearing green lipstick. She glanced back at the window, obscurely troubled.
"What's in the bag?" Diana asked, approaching the new arrival.
Shiera turned from the window sharply as realization hit her. "Wait! That isn't -- " The figure in the tube was already moving. Metal spheres flew from her hands, bounced on the deck, cracking open
with a faint hiss and a greenish cloud. Wonder Woman's charge carried her over one, and immediately she felt her legs go rubbery. She sprawled to the deck. She wanted to get up, seize the intruder, but her body
wouldn't obey, and it struck her as remarkably funny. She began to chuckle, then giggle, then laugh loudly, her whole body shuddering with mirth. Behind her, she could hear a faint thump, and then Shiera's laughter
joined hers. The false Batgirl smiled and stepped over Diana's quivering body to the teleport console, drawing off her cowl and casting it aside to reveal the sensual but cruel features of Poison Ivy.
A
second later, the tube burst to life again, discharging several more figures. Wonder Woman, giggling brokenly, recognized the yellow-garbed form of the Cheetah instantly, trailed by Catwoman. The two villains
dragged captives behind them. The captives' faces were red and shiny with sweat, but the moment they were exposed to the air in the station, they began to laugh hopelessly but made no effort to free themselves.
Batgirl -- the real Batgirl -- squirmed feebly in Catwoman's grip, while Wonder Girl was curled into a ball, the Cheetah having hold of the back of her neck. Oddly, neither of the two girls was wearing their boots.
Diana tried to get to her feet, but something was wrong. Her limbs didn't seem to be responding properly. Her legs kicked awkwardly as she tried to get them under her, and they moved as slowly as if she were
pushing them through setting concrete. The Cheetah, dropping Wonder Girl, walked over just as Diana managed to rise to one knee. Putting a hand on Diana's bare shoulder, she shoved her over without effort, smirking
unpleasantly. Shiera had managed to stand, still chuckling involuntarily, but her muscles locked with every move she made. She tried to take a step toward the villains, miscalculated, lost her balance, and tumbled
back to the floor as the trio laughed nastily.
"We're the only ones here," Poison Ivy said, shimmying out of her Batgirl outfit to reveal her own green garb beneath. "And this should shut down
the teleporters. Let's have some fun, girls."
"Are you sure this is safe?" Catwoman demanded as they dragged the captives to the table in the center of the room. "I can smell that gas of
yours -- "Â
"Don't worry,
darling," Ivy said impatiently, hoisting Shiera, who was too limp with laughter to put up a struggle. "The antidote you've taken is good for another two hours at least. And by that time -- "
"Enough talk," the Cheetah growled, dropping Wonder Girl into one of the
seats. "Let's play!"
"All right, let's warm them up a little more," suggested Ivy, producing another
metal ball and dropping it into the center of the room with a crack- hiss. Diana tried to hold her breath instantly, but it didn't help; the familiar limp feeling stole over her, and her ribs and belly heaved with
involuntary laughter once more. The three villainesses listened to their captives' mirth with pleasure: Shiera's oddly girlish high-pitched giggle, Barbara's frantic gasping and yelping as she strove to contain
herself, Diana's soaring, almost musical peals, and Donna's squirming titters.
"So who gets it?" Catwoman inquired above the four-part harmony.
"Welll ... " Ivy tapped her lip.
"Why don't we give the young ladies a rest? They've already been through quite a bit. I'll just keep them occupied ... " Bending low, she sprayed a cloud of gas into Barbara and Donna's faces in turn,
bringing fresh screams of laughter from them, and then turned back to the other two, leaving the girls heaving with mirth on the floor behind her.
"This one's mine," Cheetah said in a low, snarling
voice, her hand falling on Diana's shoulder. She stepped aside casually as Diana reached out with agonizing slowness, trying to grab her ankle. "Too slow, and you're going to stay that way."
"Then I'll play with the bird," Catwoman said, moving over to Shiera, Ivy following. They took hold of her wrists and hauled her to her feet. Although she could barely move on her own, the villains were
able to straighten out her legs and maneuver her into a standing position, as if she were a life-size doll. They raised her arms high above her head and let go, and Shiera's hands remained where they had been put,
as if signaling for a touchdown. Hawkwoman's eyes darted from one villain to the other, trying to guess what they planned -- and then she felt tickling fingers in each bare underarm. It instantly became evident that
her voice wasn't affected by the slow-down effect of the laughing gas, as she yelled with laughter. She would
have fallen again if the villains hadn't supported her with hands behind her back, even as their other
hands -- Catwoman's quickly scrabbling, Ivy's lazily circling -- brought her more ticklish agony. As her body writhed in slow motion, she reflexively tried to squeeze her arms shut, but it was as if the air had
turned denser than lead.
As her elbows began coming down, the two villains simply reached up and pushed them back into place, then returned to their merciless tickling. Shiera went cold inside as she realized just how helpless she was.
Diana's eyes widened as she watched her friend suffer. And then she was recalled to her own situation as a fingertip trailed down her spine. "Remember me?" purred the Cheetah. "Guess what's going
to happen now." With a brisk shove, she dumped Diana on her behind, yanked up one of her legs, and slipped off the boot protecting it. A second later, both hands were dancing around Diana's naked foot, which
hung in midair as if sealed in glass. Diana bit her lips, but the Cheetah's light touch and the ticklishness of her foot would not be denied, and squeal after squeal of laughter was forced from her. It seemed as if
she was even more ticklish than usual -- wasn't laughing gas supposed to numb you? "Just wait until the other one comes off," taunted the Cheetah. "Then you'll really laugh for me. This is just a
warm-up."
Batgirl was still laughing like a madwoman from her gassing, but nevertheless she had managed to force herself to her hands and knees and begin crawling toward the communications console. They
needed help, and now. So singlemindedly was she forcing herself toward the console that she didn't notice that Catwoman had left Shiera and crept up behind her -- until the villain's fingertips trailed with tortuous
delicacy down her bare soles.
"Going
somewhere, kid?" she asked as Barbara cringed, her laughter redoubling. "Not as long as I have hold of your tickly little feet. This is a really bad spot for you, isn't it?" Barbara's howls echoed
through the metallic chamber.
Ivy was left with Shiera all to herself -- but if Hawkwoman had expected relief from having one fewer tickler, she was rudely disappointed. Ivy pulled her costume top out of the
waistband of her shorts and, sliding both hands up under it, began to tease Shiera's soft, vulnerable belly while Shiera stood there, helpless as a department store mannequin. Even when Ivy slipped a devilish
fingertip into her navel and all her instincts shrieked at her to bend double, Shiera could only bow slightly before Ivy grabbed her shoulders and straightened her again. The frustration was almost as terrible as
the tickling itself, and Ivy's slow touch only emphasized Shiera's futility. Ivy paused for a moment when Diana's laughter rang out louder than ever -- the other boot had come off, and the Cheetah was tickling both
her feet without mercy.
 "Don't forget
the other one," Ivy shouted, pointing at Wonder Girl, who had managed to stand but was swaying uncertainly, not sure how to take a step. Then she turned back to Shiera. "You know, none of us here really
hates you all that much. Want to know why we decided to have you in on this?" She reached past Shiera, and Hawkwoman felt a tug. When Ivy's hand drew back, there was a long, stiff gray plume in it.
"Feathers." She giggled. "Isn't this too deliciously ironic?" But Shiera couldn't answer, for the feather tip was stroking her belly-button and all she could think of was how awfully it tickled
and wishing with all her might that she could squirm or do anything beyond stand there and laugh. Her headdress was askew, and the glaring hawk-eyes made a weird contrast with her mouth, stretched wide with helpless
mirth.
The Cheetah had briefly abandoned Diana to haul Wonder Girl over to her, laying them down side by side. The two stared at each other in silent commiseration, broken frequently by fits of wild laughter
as the Cheetah began a point-by-point comparison. Donna's small pink feet were more ticklish than Diana's larger, paler soles, although tickles under the toes made Diana writhe with an energy that belied the effects
of the gas. Diana giggled when her knees were squeezed; Donna didn't. The Cheetah tickled their tummies with one hand each for at least ten minutes, the two women twisting in slow-motion torment, before announcing
that they seemed equally sensitive.
"They can't be any more ticklish than this girl's," called Catwoman in response. She had rolled Barbara over and pushed her into an arch, her feet and shoulders
on the floor and behind high in the air, leaving the muscles of her belly taut and supremely vulnerable to teasing fingers. A light hand under her back was all that it took to keep her from sagging back down as
Catwoman's fingertips roamed over her belly, driving her wild with laughter. Barbara's face was now almost as red as her hair as she struggled futilely against the inertia afflicting her. "I'm going to remember
this spot," Catwoman purred, her forefinger burrowing into a place just above Barbara's navel. Barbara shrieked and her body slowly spasmed, but neither her incoherent pleas or her sluggish squirming could
release her from the torture.
 "Let's trade,
Selina dear," Ivy said. "I owe the bat-child a little myself." Skipping over, she pressed Barbara flat once more and sat on her stomach, digging strong fingertips into Batgirl's rib cage and smiling
at her fresh screams. Shiera, meanwhile, shuddered and fought to catch her breath as Catwoman pushed her to a sitting position, legs splayed out, and drew off her boots to reveal narrow, long-toed feet. Smiling with
dark pleasure, Catwoman began to torture Shiera with quick light touches along her arches, under her toes, down the tops of her feet. Slowly they became longer, gliding, tickling touches, and Shiera's frantic giggle
once again joined the symphony of laughter in the room as Catwoman's fingers slid over her arches.
The Cheetah, meanwhile, had taken one of Hawkwoman's plumes and was threading it with malicious slowness
through Diana's wide-spread toes, brushing the edge back and forth along the hypersensitive flesh. Diana, lost in a squealing sea of ticklish agony, strained to keep her toes together and curled, but her tormentor
merely pushed them apart again and, as extra punishment, ran her fingers up and down the sole of the foot. Donna, forgotten again for the moment, lay belly-down on the floor, gasping for breath. Slowly, slowly, she
forced her hands up toward the Cheetah's body, praying the villain wouldn't notice -- and then, with a convulsive effort, she seized the Cheetah's waist, just above the hips. She had expected the villain to be
startled, but the yellow-garbed woman's yowl of shock -- and sudden laughter -- took her by surprise. But she couldn't keep her grip; the gas vitiated her strength, and the Cheetah broke away easily, spinning and
seizing her wrists. The Cheetah hauled Donna upright, glaring down at her.Â
"You'll pay for that," the villain hissed. "Girls! Help me teach this brat a lesson."Â
"What a sweet
idea," smiled Ivy, who had torn open Barbara's costume and was giving her exposed underarms a dose of fast nonstop tickling. "We can go through them all one by one. Let's just put the others over here ...
" The three dragged Barbara, Diana, and Shiera together into one quivering, giggling heap, and then Ivy produced yet another gas container and dropped it
amidst them. Shiera, her slowed-down body
still squirming from the awful tickling Catwoman had given her feet, was surprised to see that, rather than hold her breath like the other two, Barbara breathed in deeply. Was Batgirl actually enjoying this? But
then the gas's effect stole over her, and the heap shook with the renewed laughter of three tormented heroines as if they were still being tickled by a fourth, invisible, villain.
The villains closed in on
Wonder Girl, faces alight with malice. They laid her face-up, arms above her head and ankles together, straight as a line and helpless as if she were bound by cast-iron chains, but nothing held her beyond her own
balky muscles. As one, the villains dropped to their knees, Ivy at her head, Catwoman by her middle, and the Cheetah at her feet. "On the count of three," Ivy instructed. "One ... two ... two and a
half ... " Donna's flinch came a slowed-down second later, and the villains all laughed nastily. "Okay, no fooling around -- get her!"
Donna screamed as three pairs of tickling hands took
possession of her body. The Cheetah caressed her soles unmercifully, knowing full well where she was most vulnerable and exploiting her weaknesses thoroughly. Ivy's fingertips trickled through her wide-open
underarms, up and down in an endless, repetitive rhythm that promised hour upon hour of agony. Catwoman's touch, on the other hand, was quick and unpredictable, landing just long enough on tummy, rib, waist, or
thigh to deliver a sharp dose of tickle-torture that made her contort in anguish, then bouncing on to its next destination. There was nothing in the world for her but laughter: her own screeching, the cruel giggles
of the villains as they delighted in her suffering, and far off the helpless laughter of her friends as they awaited the same terrible fate that she was now undergoing.
It seemed to go on forever. The three
villains switched roles several times, so Donna was forced to endure Ivy's relentless fingers marching around her belly, Catwoman's touch flying up and down her feet, and the Cheetah's gentle but insistently knowing
exploration of her underarms and ribs in turn. Finally, Catwoman rocked back on her heels, fanning herself with a hand.
"Whew! That was fun."
"She didn't think so," smirked Ivy, who was
still stroking Donna's feet, keeping her giggling brokenly.
"Who cares what the tickle toy thinks?" asked the Cheetah. "Let's do Wonder Woman next." Catwoman rose, stretching. "I
could use something to drink first."
"Me too," Ivy admitted.
"That makes three of us," the Cheetah said. "Who stays and watches the
toys?"
"We don't
need to," Ivy said. "Just tie them up" -- she indicated Diana's and Donna's golden lassos, tossed in a corner -- "and I'll set one of the canisters on time release. We should be back before they
stop laughing. I always wanted to see the rest of this place, anyway ... "
The plan was approved, and the four heroines were bundled together -- with much "accidental" tickling. Diana's lasso
went around their wrists, Donna's around their ankles, and Ivy adjusted another canister of gas so it sprayed them with a thin but steady stream. Shiera noticed again that Barbara breathed in deeply, but there was
no time to say anything before the four began laughing again, even though their bellies and ribs were sore from overexertion.
"You get it when we come back," Catwoman smiled, playfully tweaking the
tip of Diana's nose, and then the villains left their captives in a mirthful pile.
After the door slid shut behind them, Barbara spoke. "Breathe -- heeheeheeheehee -- in," she said. "It's the only
-- hahahahaha -- way -- "
"What?" Diana demanded before laughter took her again. Barbara spoke with effort, giggles shuddering below the surface of her voice. "I know this stuff. If you're
exposed to it enough, you build up a resistance. Otherwise we'll be here until -- " She broke off, shrieking, as she could no longer suppress her laughter. After a moment, she began to twist and squirm with the
same agonizing slowness that afflicted them all. Behind her, Shiera could feel Diana inhaling deeply, and with a mental note of resignation, she did so as well, even though it made her laugh harder than ever.
Donna's yelps redoubled, indicating that she had heard as well. After what seemed like hours, Barbara gave a final jerk and rose, the golden lassos dropping from her wrists and ankles. Slowly, she crawled to where
the canister lay and twisted its top. Gas belched from it, filling the room, and the four heroines howled. But as the haze cleared, Shiera realized that she actually felt somewhat stronger, for all that laughter had
drained her strength. But it wasn't enough. Barbara seemed to know that, and she began crawling toward the bag of canisters Poison Ivy had left behind.Â
"We're going to have to take more.... " she gasped.***Â
"They do
pretty well for themselves," Ivy commented as the three villains strolled down the corridor. "Maybe we ought to steal some stuff after we finish playing."
"Pleasure before business, my
dear," said Catwoman, pausing at the door, and the villains shared a laugh. Then Catwoman pressed the control, the door slid open, and all hell broke loose.
Golden lassos arced out and wrapped themselves
around the Cheetah and Catwoman. Ivy turned to run, but was borne to the deck by Shiera in a -- literally -- flying tackle. Ivy's struggles redoubled as she felt Shiera pulling off her boots, but she could do
nothing against Thanagarian muscle. The villains were dragged back into the room, where Batgirl sat cross- legged, the bag in her lap. Scattered gas canisters were all around, and though all the heroines were
dripping sweat and exhausted, an identical light shone in their eyes.
"Well, ladies," Barbara said, "it'll be about half an hour before your antidote expires and we can try this stuff out on
you. Until then, we'll just have to entertain you ... the old-fashioned way. I hope you won't be _too_ bored ... " Ivy paled as Shiera took hold of her wrists and held them above her head and Barbara rose,
studying her exposed underarms thoughtfully. Catwoman was trying to beg for mercy through her giggles as Donna's fingernails ran over her bare feet. Diana had pinned the Cheetah and was tearing open her costume to
expose her tummy and navel.
"Now _this_ is making the punishment fit the crime," smiled Donna.
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