IF YOU'RE UNDER 18, YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO READ THIS STORY UNTIL YOU CAN
WRITE A CLEAR AND ACCURATE ACCOUNT OF HAWKMAN'S CONTINUITY TO THE PRESENT
DAY. THANK YOU.
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 JLA satellite.
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 -- "
"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
"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
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
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
"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
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. "You'll pay for that," the villain hissed. "Girls!
Help me teach this brat a lesson."
"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
"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
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. "We're going to have to take more.... " she gasped.
"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.