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Session with Goddess Shelly (F/m)

milagros317

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Jan 12, 2002
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This is the story of my session with Goddess Shelly in December 2011. It is an F/m story which includes extreme bondage, tickle torture, foot worship, sock and boot worship, and spanking. If any of that might offend you, then don’t read it. Both of the characters are over the age of 21.



I am ready for Goddess Shelly’s arrival, wearing my collar, ankle cuffs, and wrist cuffs. All are buckled but not yet locked on. I let her into the building via the intercom system and wait by the door for the sound of the elevator stopping on my floor. I kneel down as I open the door for her.

Goddess Shelly enters, tall, elegant, and beautiful as always. She double locks the door behind her as I kneel at her feet. She notes the plastic container with five little padlocks and three sets of keys to them on the bookshelf near the door. She locks my collar on first, then both wrist cuffs, then both ankle cuffs. They will not be unlocked until she is ready to leave.

She orders me to kiss her boots five times on each instep. I do so. She turns away from me and bends one knee, raising her booted foot in front of me. She orders me to kiss the sole of that boot 25 times. I do so. She raises the other foot and I kiss the sole of her other boot 25 times as well. I thank her for the privilege of kissing her boots. She plants both feet on the floor again and orders me to kiss her ass, 45 times on each cheek. I do so and thank her for that privilege as well. (She is wearing black pants and I am actually kissing her pants over her ass.)

She directs me to use the toilet, noting that I may be tied up for a very long time. When I emerge from the bathroom, she tells me to lie down on the bed. An under-the-mattress restraint system is already in place, with four Velcro cuffs. She puts my ankles and wrists into the cuffs and fastens the Velcro. She ties my legs together with thick black rope, in three places, just above the ankles, at the upper calves, and just above the knees. She uses thinner rope to anchor my ankle cuffs to the footboard of the bed. Here are three photos of my legs as first tied:
 

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With my legs secured, Goddess Shelly puts the leather hood over my head and laces it up. She leaves the blindfold portion on but not the gag portion; with the mouth hole open I can speak to her and breathe easily.

Goddess Shelly now goes to work on my arms. She binds my arms together with thick orange rope both above and below the elbows. She anchors the forearm ropes to the headboard of the bed and she anchors the upper arm ropes to the ropes around my legs. She uses thin white rope to anchor my wrist cuffs to the headboard of the bed as well. She warns me that much more bondage is to come. She adds thumb cuffs as she makes this warning, locking them onto my thumbs.

Here are some photos of the preliminary arm bondage:
 

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Here is a close-up showing part of the thumb cuffs:
 

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Here are some views from the side:
 

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“Just when you thought you were out of the woods, it’s time to add more ropes,” says Goddess Shelly to me. “It’s up to me whether to add one more rope, or four more, or ten more,” she notes.

With one extra rope she ties the ring on top of my leather hood to the headboard of the bed. With another she ties the rings on my collar to the footboard of the bed. I am now barely able to move my head.

A third extra rope is bound around my left elbow and tied to the bedpost beyond my right foot. A fourth fastens my right elbow to the bedpost beyond my left foot. These two ropes she pulls tightly until I can feel my already bound elbows moving toward my feet.

Humming in satisfaction to herself, Goddess Shelly now adds a fifth new rope, tying it around my right knee and anchoring it the headboard above my left shoulder. A sixth extra rope ties my left knee to the headboard above my right shoulder. She pulls these two ropes tightly as well, until I can feel my already bound knees moving up toward my head.

Here are photos of the extra ropes on my elbows:
 

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Here are photos of the completed bondage, including the extra ropes on my knees:
 

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And some side views of the completed bondage:
 

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Goddess Shelly removes the blindfold section of to the leather hood and bends over me to look directly into my eyes.

“You are totally helpless now, completely under my control. I could gag you, abandon you, lock the door behind me, and you would probably die of thirst before anybody got worried enough to call the police and break the door down. Are you scared?”

I look back into her beautiful eyes and say, “No, I’m not scared. I trust you completely and absolutely. And I love you very much.”

Goddess Shelly smiles in satisfaction and replaces the blindfold over my eyes.

“My fingers need some exercise,” she says, which makes me very happy indeed.

She proceeds to tickle torture my ribs and armpits, digging in with her strong fingers, especially with her strong thumbs in my armpits. I am soon howling with laughter. I can barely wriggle and it amuses her how I nevertheless try to pull away from her fingers.

“Where are you going? Nowhere. What can you do about it? Nothing,” she taunts me, never ceasing to dig her fingers into my rib cage.

“Yes,” I manage to say in the midst of my laughter, “it goes on until you decide it should stop. You have all the power and all the control.”

“And?” she prompts me.

“And that’s just the way it should be!” I respond.

“Yes, that’s just the way it should be,” she acknowledges, once again digging both thumbs under my arms.


When she is finally done tickling me, I lie there hot and sweaty, sore under the arms, and exhausted.

“Do you need a bathroom break?” she asks, poking me in the abdomen to make it clear to me that I do need one. “Don’t bother to answer because you’re not going to get one,” she adds. “Unless you want to beg for one, most abjectly.”
I know that means that she will untie me and let me go to the bathroom but she wants me to beg for it first.

“Given how long it will take to untie me,” I say, “and how badly I need to go already, I do most humbly beg you to begin untying me so that I can have a bathroom break by six o’clock.”

She does begin getting me loose, first unlocking my thumb cuffs. It takes about half an hour to get me untied, with me helping after my hands are free. (It took well over an hour to put me into the bondage pictured above.)

After using the bathroom, I kneel on the floor in front of Goddess Shelly, who is sitting on the couch, and await her instructions.

“Kiss the top of each boot, 500 times,” she says.

She uses her iPhone, dealing with texts and emails, while I comply. She then just points to her other boot and I kiss the instep of that one 500 times as well.

Goddess Shelly, still sitting on the couch, crosses one leg over the other, exposing the corrugated rubber sole. “Lick the sole of my boot until I tell you to stop,” she says. “Count, but count silently. Don’t stop until I tell you.”

[Note about health: People may think that it is a big health risk to lick the sole of a boot that has been worn outdoors, and they may be correct. But let me note my own experience. I have licked the soles of shoes, sneakers, and boots of women who have walked outdoors in them on dozens of occasions and I have never once become ill. I have been gagged with grimy, dirty, smelly socks fresh off a woman’s feet over a dozen occasions and never once become ill. I have licked food, sweat, and dirt off of women’s bare feet on dozens of occasions and never once become ill.

On the other hand, I have had food poisoning five or six times in my life. One of the worst times, when I was vomiting on and off all night long and plagued with diarrhea the next day, was from eating scallops at a fancy and very expensive seafood restaurant near Grand Central Terminal.

I can offer no explanation for this; I am not a physician. But I feel safer licking the soles of Goddess Shelly’s boots than I would feel eating a rare hamburger from a fast food outlet.]

I lick the entire length of the sole of her right boot, from heel to toe, over and over again. She continues to type on her iPhone. After a considerable time she speaks.

“Stop,” she says. “How many was that?”

“Exactly 300 licks,” I respond.

“Is that all?” asks Goddess Shelly. “I guess a lick takes much longer than a kiss. Go up to 400.”

I continue with a hundred more licks. She crosses her legs in the opposite direction and orders me to lick the sole of her left boot 400 times as well. It takes a considerable time to do so. When finished I look up at her hopefully, knowing that I may now get a reward.

Goddess Shelly removes her boots, one by one. She holds each one out for me to sniff the inside. She is wearing thick black athletic socks under the boots. She shoves her socked feet into my face, one by one, allowing me to sniff the socks for about a full minute. She removes the socks, one by one, revealing her narrow, elegant size 8½ bare feet. She holds out the socks for me to sniff again.

“You will get these socks to keep as your holiday present,” she tells me, “but only after you’ve licked them, later. For now, you may lick my bare soles, 40 times each.”

I cradle the heel of her left foot in my hand, and lick the sole, from heel to toe, over and over again. This is the greatest privilege she allows me, to lick the bare soles of her sacred feet. I complete the 40 licks all too soon.

“Thank you, thank you ever so much,” I say, kissing the ball of her foot.

Without a word, she puts her right foot in front of me and I do the same, licking her sole 40 times, kissing the ball of her foot afterward, and thanking her.

“The multiplier is eleven,” she says.

Having gotten 80 licks on her bare soles, this means that I will pay for it by being spanked with 880 swats. She has five implements to choose from: a ping-pong paddle, a wooden spoon, a wooden spatula, a wooden paddle, 18 inches long, and a bamboo cane with a leather handle, also 18 inches long. I get down on all fours in position for her to spank me. She has me kiss the bamboo cane (the most feared of the five implements) eight times before she begins.

She spanks me hard enough to hurt and cause redness but not hard enough to bruise. I watch her bare feet as she spanks me. (In the five years that I’ve known her, she only bruised my bottom once, having gotten carried away with a very long spanking.)

“I’ll bet you’re glad that’s over,” she says, and I heartily agree.

She sits down and puts her socks back on. “Lick the sole of each sock 80 times,” she orders.

I lick the fuzzy sole of her right sock eighty times.

“May I please have some water to swallow your sock lint?” I ask when I’m done.

She allows me drink water from a bottle.

“Thank you, it is a great honor to swallow your sock lint,” I say.

We repeat the same process on her left sock. When it’s done, she takes off the now wet socks and puts them in a zip-lock bag. She hands me the bag.

“Thank you so much,” I say. “I will treasure them.” I put the socks on my bookshelf.

Goddess Shelly now hands me the tube of Shea It Isn’t So Foot Cream and puts her feet up to be massaged.

“Begin the massage while I decide what we’ll have for dinner,” she says.

As I massage her extremely lovely feet, she looks over the 15 or so take-out menus that I have for her in a folder. Occasionally she gives me directions, such as “more slowly,” “do the arch now,” or “press a little harder.”

Finally she says, “I’ve almost decided. It will be Indian or Italian.”

I express no preference since it is our custom that she makes all the decisions about food and already knows what I like best, what I will be willing to eat, and what I won’t eat. She tells me to stop the massage and goes over to the phone. I can tell it is the Italian restaurant she has called when she describes what five toppings she wants on our large pizza. She also asks for a side order of steamed broccoli and tiramisu for dessert.

While waiting for the food to be delivered, she lies face down on the bed, feet extended over the edge for me to resume massaging. I have a beautiful view of both bare soles, the softest and most beautiful soles I’ve ever seen (which is what I tell her often), as I massage. Although hungry, I am sad to hear the intercom go off as the delivery person has arrived downstairs.

Goddess Shelly lets him in and goes outside the door to wait for him at the elevator. (I still have a collar, wrist cuffs, and ankle cuffs locked on me.) She pays him out of an envelope labeled “dinner” that I have left out. It has some 20 dollar bills, a 10 dollar bill, a 5 dollar bill, and five singles. (This is because delivery people will notoriously claim to have no change to get a bigger tip than you wish to give them. Taxi drivers around here are the same, so bring lots of 5’s and singles if you visit New York City.)

Goddess Shelly tells me to sit at my desk and brings me a tray with one slice of pizza and some broccoli. We talk as we eat. When I’ve finished it all, she brings me another slice of pizza. The pizza is excellent, topped with mushrooms, onions, olive slices, green pepper, and eggplant. Broccoli is not my favorite vegetable but I do eat it.

I am surprised when she gives me a third slice of pizza but I take it happily. She even gives me half the dessert and the tiramisu is wonderful.

After dinner I massage her feet once more and keep doing that until she wishes to go home.

At the door she verifies that our next session will be in three weeks. She orders me to kiss each of her boots five times. She unlocks the five padlocks holding the bondage devices on me.

“Your quota will be three,” she says. “I was going to make it two, but I’m feeling kind today.”

This means that I will be permitted to gratify myself three times before our next session.

“Thank you so much for a wonderful day,” I say, “and for the generous quota. See you in three weeks.”

I am sad as she leaves. I begin to gather up and pack away all of the ropes and equipment.

The End
 
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A QUESTION??????????

Does she come to your apartment? I always thought you went to a dungeon?
 
Yes, she now comes to my apartment. This saves renting a hotel room or renting the use of a dungeon. That was the whole point of buying the new bed. :devil:
 
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Can the neighbors hear you?

Great story,milagros317. Does Goddess Shelly have a web site, or does she prefer to keep a low profile?

Can the neighbors hear anything?
 
Goddess Shelly keeps a low profile and has no website.

None of the neighbors has ever complained. Our building is almost a century old and has fairly thick walls.
 
Wow, Millie. Do you like the role playing aspect and the ritual of tying you up as much as the tickling?
 
From reading this story, that seemed clear. Do you enjoy the bondage rituals and being a submissive more than tickling?
It's hard to quantify. I would have to say that licking her bare soles is my favorite activity of the session and that the tickle torture is second favorite.
 
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