Persephone
2nd Level Red Feather
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- Sep 24, 2008
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[Part I]
It was another lazy, sunny day down at the private beach of this very elite resort. The fact it cost almost three thousand euros a night was no problem to a model as successful as Paige Harren. She was completely content spending her vacation time here every time her scheduled opened up enough and she could leave New York for just a few weeks for rest and relaxation.
Paige was a very beautiful model at the tender age of twenty-six. However she knew her modeling career would soon come to an end. Sure she was still beautiful, young, and vivacious, but unfortunately the models seemed to be getting younger as each year passed. She herself had started out with her first agency at the age of fourteen!
By this point after her long career, Paige knew she could retire into a very lavish and comfortable lifestyle. She had no husband, children, or any sort of commitment to tie her down from enjoying the rest of her twenties.
As she sipped her margarita and laid back enjoying the sun baking down on her slender form, a shadow was suddenly cast over her face. She frowned and blinked as she looked up and realized she was looking into the face of her manager.
“What is it Whitney?” Paige asked with annoyance as she set her drink aside. Paige sat up more as her agent seemed busy with her blackberry.
“Actually Miss Harren, a message just came in from a new shoe collection from a big designer in Paris. He was looking for a model and your name came up and now he really wants you to be his newest shoe model,” Whitney explained as she pulled the e-mails up on her phone.
A frown passed over Paige's flawless face as she brushed the dirty blonde hair from her eyes. “Foot modeling? Have I really sunk so low?” she dramatically collapsed back into the beach chair.
“He's actually very famous in Europe, and he's trying to get the attention of America's fashion designers now. His name his Jean Devereau, and his collection is called Chien Rouge,” Whitney explained as she held out a magazine she had kept tucked under her arm.
“These are his designs?” Paige asked, looking at the many cute designs of heels, sandels, and stilletos. She bit her lower lip as she studied the shoes, they did look very high fashion like, and if she become the spokesmodel, maybe that would breathe a new life into her career.
“You know what Whit, go ahead and call Mister Devereau and let him know I am greatly interested in being his new shoe model,” she smiled, pushing the sunglasses up from her nose and to rest on top of her head for now as she picked up her drink. She swirled it lazily in the large glass as her manager did all the necessary managing on her phone.
“Okay, it's not set in stone yet. We need to fly to Paris in the next few days, meet Monsieur Devereau and then sign some contracts,” Whitney explained.
“Yeah yeah, paper mumbo jumbo, I don't care about all that confusing business aspect. That's why I hired you Whit, now make this happen,” Paige flicked her hand in a gesture she wanted to be left alone to sun bathe.
Whitney disappeared without another word to leave her most important client alone while she began to arrange all the travel expenses and such for when they would leave the south of France for Paris.
“Welcome, bienvenue to our boutique!” a pretty young woman greeted Paige and Whitney as they entered the headquarters of the Chien Rouge in the heart of Paris.
“I am Monique, Monsieur Devereau's personal assistant! May I get you some water, perhaps a cold glass of wine?” she politely asked, leading them to the back of the store where the offices were located.
“Actually a bottle of water would just be heavenly,” Paige smiled as the attendant nodded eagerly, almost trying to please too hard. But her boss had told her the importance of their new client, and she was to get the VIP treatment, no matter how crazy her demands.
“Welcome!” a deep, and thickly accented voice cheerfully boomed from behind them. Paige and Whitney both jumped as Monique smiled politely.
“Your guest of honor has arrived sir,” Monique politely stated as she then scurried off to find some water for her guest.
“Ah yes, Madamemoiselle Harren! It is such an honor you accepted our request to be our new shoe model,” the tall, and lanky Parisian grinned, as he shook her hand gleefully.
“How could I turn such an offer down?” Paige smiled as she took a seat on a plush sofa, across from the shoe designer, as Whitney sat down beside of her.
“Now about the contracts,” Whitney began, digging through her briefcase as Monique appeared with two bottles of chilled water.
Jean Devereau threw his head back with hearty laughter and shook his head. “Straight to business I see? Non, non first we must discuss Madamemoiselle Harren's future with the Chien Rouge! First of all, since you are our newest shoe model, you do understand the requirements?” He smiled politely.
“Well obviously I need to keep my feet routinely pedicured. I go once every two weeks anyway, so my feet are in good condition,” Paige smirked.
Jean glanced at Whitney, and she caught the obvious sign he wanted to be alone to make these transactions with his newest client, not with her agent.
“Yes, well I will just be outside whenever we need to start the business discussion,” Whitney stood up and politely shook his hand again and walked off.
“May I see your foot, if I may be so bold?” Jean asked innocently enough.
Paige was taken aback by the strange question, especially because he was being so forward. But she was going to be his shoe model after all. She shrugged and bent down and unstrapped the wedge sandles she had worn to the boutique and slid her pretty sole from the shoe.
Carefully she placed her leg on the leather ottoman between the two of them. “May I?” Jean asked as he meant to reach over and delicately grasp her ankle.
“Of course,” she smiled a bit uneasily. The Parisian picked up her ankle tenderly and held her foot a few inches from his face as his looked up and down the delicate sole, from her nicely polished toes to the smooth heels.
“Very nice, you must be a size..er...what is your shoe size in American terms?” he asked.
Paige smiled as she responded, “Size eight and a half.”
“Ah, ah...good, an average enough size for the common female. Yes, your foot is in excellent shape. Very smooth skin, a nice skin tone as well. However I am afraid since you will be our new shoe model for the next six months, as your contract dictates, you must begin to get more frequent pedicures, since we will have many photoshoots for you,” he set her ankle down gently.
“So...once a week instead of every two weeks?” she asked innocently as she slid her foot back into the wedge sandle and strapped it around her ankle.
“No, I would prefer at least two times a week. Possibly every Tuesday and Friday I would suggest you get a fresh pedicure,” he nodded his head, as he took a sip of his own water Monique had handed him.
Paige bit her lower lip nervously as her toes wiggled nervously in her sandles. Her feet were so sensitive to begin with...but this new job as a shoe model would surely boost her career back into the limelight. What was a few more times going to the salon for a pedicure? No big deal.
“Yes that sounds fine,” she agreed.
“Very good, I actually have the name of an amazing new salon who opened just a few streets away, she will gladly give you the most thorough and excellent pedicures you've ever experienced,” Jean chuckled beneath his breath.
Paige nodded as she faked a smile, “Great, sounds like a plan!”
“So I will be back at five-thirty to pick you up then in the car,” Whitney was busy with her blackberry yet again.
Paige stared up at the this very pristine and expensive looking salon, with the name Glace painted across both windows in an exotic styled font.
“I guess, I don't understand why I need to be here two hours for a pedicure,” Paige whined a bit.
“It's your first one ever, I am sure Monsieur Devereau just wants to be thorough, after this they will probably only be a half hour long,” Whitney shrugged as Paige opened the door to climb out.
“Yeah, you are probably right, see you in a few hours then,” Paige responded as she shut the door and took a deep breath and bravely entered the salon, having no idea what she had just walked herself into.
“Welcome to the Salone Glace!” a happy young woman chirped from behind a front desk as she stood up and shook hands with Paige, “you must be Monsieur Devereau's newest model! He wanted us to treat you with extra special care today! Only the best for his girls.”
Paige smiled weakly as she shook the girls hand and took the glass of carbonated water they offered her.
“Right this way. You can relax here in our nice waiting room while we finish prepping your special room. It won't take more than five more minutes,” the woman explained and disappeared behind a black door as Paige watched.
She sipped the fizzy water and sat down on a comfy chair as she stared around at the pictures on the walls, a few of manicured hands, and a few of pedicured feet.
“Suddenly the pictures began to get fuzzy, and Paige shook her head and laughed slightly as she yawned. “I need to sleep more and less partying,” she sarcastically mumbled as she yawned again. Without realizing it, her body became limp as she passed out on the couch, dropping the glass of fizzy water to the floor. Too late for poor Paige to realize her water had been drugged.
“Mmm...what's going on...?” Paige groaned as she yawned and began to slowly come to. As she opened her dark brown eyes she blinked in confusion as she realized she was in a pitch black room.
“Hey!” she cried out in confusion. She tried to sit up and search for a light switch but she soon realized she was going no where. From what she could feel, she was settled into a very plush and squishy recliner like chair. There was heavy straps across her wrists, one beneath her breasts, across her waist, and a few across her spread legs, keeping them still.
“What's going on!” she shrieked, writhing in the bondage, not understanding what predicament she found herself in.
Suddenly a bright light was flashed on and Paige cried out in shock and turned her face away. As she looked back slowly, and struggled to blink her eyes adjusted. She gasped as she realized what was happening.
First of all she had been changed from her fashionable summer dress into a pair of white shorts and a white tank top. She was strapped down snugly into this chair but as she looked forward she realized there was a glass wall separating her from her feet. Her ankles were poking out through two very plush holes in the wall keeping her ankles comfy but immobile.
On the other side of the glass she observed a few women talking amongst themselves, smoking cigarettes and laughing as if they were on a lunch break. They all wore the same sterile white outfits, down to the white heels.
Suddenly one of the three woman gestured to the squirming feet on their side of the glass. That meant their newest victim had woken up. Too bad Paige didn't realize this women did not care about how much her feet would suffer while they cared for them. All these women cared about were her feet, and giving them a very thorough tending to.
Paige did not exist to them, only her writhing feet, which could only twitch and wiggle a bit from side to side as all her toes were individually tied back to small bolts in the glass wall.
The women immediately walked over and one sat down at either of Paige's feet, which were spread about two feet apart.
Paige's feet twitched even more as the women sat before them, and all she could do was watch with wide eyes as they could do whatever they pleased to her feet and not be bothered by her screams through the thick glass separation.
The third woman sat between them, preparing various items on a cart. Each women seemed to have her own ideas in mind on how to start Paige's 'pedicure'. One reached for a small hand brush resting in a bowl of steamy, soapy water.
The other reached for a pumice stone, not bothering with warming her feet up. Paige couldn't even have anticipated when they would begin.
Immediately both women began to personally tend to their individual writhing foot, while the third woman sat patiently between them to hand them whatever they may ask for from the cart.
On her right foot, the pedicurist began to scrub the skin directly beneath her toes, and all around her toe pads, and in between the trembling toes, held immobile in the toe bondage.
Followed immediately by the other woman who began to scrape the pumice stone across the smooth, round pink globes of Paige's heels.
Paige arched her back in the recliner and threw her head back in anguish as the tickling was too much for her poor body to handle, especially on her delicate, tender feet.
“Not thereEaEEHaaAHHAaa!” Paige squealed, as she thrashed in the squishy chair but the straps held firm.
No matter how shrill her screams of laughter, or how desperate her pleads for mercy, they fell on deaf ears as the women continued on, giggling at how the feet twitched in immense sensitivity and there was nothing they could do to escape the torment.
As the woman flaked away whatever dry skin was left on Paige's foot, she would rub hot baby oil across the freshly revealed skin, making it glisten a healthy shade of pink.
The other woman scrubbed all around the foot that flexed, drying to escape the thousands of bristles that invaded every nook and cranny and left in it's wake a flowery scent and freshly scrubbed skin.
“EeahaaHAAHaaa NnnOOOOEEhaa!! HhaaheeaahaEEEE!” Paige squealed as the woman rubbed oil into her tender arch after she had scrubbed away at it with the pumice stone for over ten minutes.
Meanwhile the other woman was busying herself picking up another scraping tool and beginning to scrape away at whatever dead skin was left on the now moist, clean sole of Paige's writihing size eight and a half.
So it continued like this for over an hour. Many different tools, treatments, and lotions were used on Paige's tingling feet.
All the while she just had to lay strapped there in the plushy chair and endure it as her feet become far more tender and supple as each second passed.
Now that the woman were through with the pedicure phase, it was time to begin the teasing and testing.
Paige gripped her fists and screamed in laughter as each woman began to dig their insanely sharp nails, or what felt more like talons, into her freshly pedicured soles.
The third woman grinned as she observed Paige's soles, now in an almost complete state of perfection. The women had given her a very thorough pedicure, so much so that now her toes were pink and tender with a fresh coating on polish on top to match. The balls of her feet were smooth and supple and slid down to her creamy arches, wrinkled slightly and very delicate and to her heels which were even smoother and glowing a healthier shade of pink than before.
They just looked highly sensitive and ticklish to the touch and the three woman practically watered at the mouth, thinking of all the things they could do these supple soles.
One pedicurist couldn't hold back and brushed her lips against Paige's sole while she howled in protest and agony on the other side of the wall.
“Such...beautiful skin and soles,” the French woman teased as she kissed the trembling skin. Her lips brushed over the trembling skin, nibbling down the wrinkly arches, her tongue invading nook and crevice as she suckled on the heels, all the while her fingers playing cutely with the immobile toes.
“Stoopp itttEEhaahHAAHAa!!!” Paige screamed, but the woman just ignored her pleas and chuckled at her frazzled appearance through the glass wall.
The other woman began to rake her soles up and down the soles, non stop, basking in how the silky skin trembled beneath her touch. Sher preferred a more cruel and hands on approach while her fellow tickler enjoyed teasing, licking and tasting the creamy flesh and making her victim suffer a more gentle, but just as agonizing torment.
“LeeaveEEehaa my feEEEateEHaahatt aloneEeahaaa!” Paige thrashed in the bondage, regretting she ever stepped through that front door!
Still the torture continued on with her silky soles writhing in the bondage, as she could do nothing but watch as both torturers held up two very ticklish, bristled brushed and lowered them towards her trembling, sensitive feet.
[Part II]
The evil bristled brushes moving towards her smooth soles and the evil giggling of the pedicurists on the either side of the wall all seemed to be occurring in slow motion.
Paige could only watch helplessly as the brush neared her tied-back, immobile feet and she bit her bottom lip to hold in what she knew would be agonized laughter as soon as those hellish bristles kissed the tender skin of her soles.
Less than two centimeters from her feet the bristles were halted by a sudden intrusion into the pedicure room.
“Stop!” a thickly-accented, deep voice commanded. Obediently the two women placed the brushes back onto the cart and pouted since they had been so close to scrubbing Paige's feet for all they were worth.
“You are finished, non?” Jean Devereau asked as he approached the three woman surrounding the pedicured size eight-and-a-halves.
“Oui,” one woman replied as she leaned forward and lazily dragged a nail up Paige's sole. This resulted in the poor anguished model arching her back, straining against the straps and squealing like a pig with laughter.
“Very good responses,” Jean smirked, obviously relishing in Paige's ticklish agony.
“She has to be the most sensitive girl you've ever brought to us,” the other pedicurist commented as she wiggled Paige's fourth toe, scraping the tender skin on the underside of the tied-back toe.
“NooEEHaa!” Paige squealed again, closing her eyes in agony as sweat trickled down her forehead.
“Well let me take a look and see if they are up to my satisfaction,” Jean stepped forward, to get a closer look at Paige's delicate feet.
The three pedicurists stepped away, two of them lighting up cigarettes again as they took a break and the third carting away the tools to be cleaned for the next pedicure victim.
Jean took a seat at one of the empty chairs and leaned forward towards Paige's soles and closed his eyes, relishing in the warmth that seemed to emanate from them.
“Mmmm...” he growled in the back of his throat in pleasure as he deeply breathed in the scent of her flowery soles. Paige giggled hard as his hot breath wafted down her creamy soles, even that tickling her.
Jean opened his eyes and was met with the sight of her creamy and pink soles staring back at him. He smirked and fluttered kisses up her right arch and then kissed her immobile left toes one by one delicately.
Paige laughed and thrashed still in the recliner, her poor feet too sensitive from the evil pedicure for this kind of treatment.
“So Monsieur Devereau, are you satisfied?” one pedicurist asked as she inhaled the sweet nicotine of her cigarette.
“Oh yes, they are beautiful, perfect for my collection,” he nodded in pleasure as he forced himself to pull away from her feet. If he could have he would have spent hours petting, kissing, and stroking them, but for now he had to control his lusts. Playtime could come later.
“Just knock her out; she needs the rest anyway. Rub her feet down with the special cream and wrap them in moisturizing socks and leave them under the lamps for the night so they are ready for the morning,” he grinned evilly..
“Yes sir,” they replied in unison as he suddenly scrambled his fingers all up and down Paige's sensitive feet one last time, just to hear her yelp and squeal in laughter, and to watch her squirm in agony.
“Just beautiful,” he smirked, as he stopped and only stroked her soles lightly with the pads of his fingers and she still giggled but calmed as her feet twitched in the bondage.
Standing up he smirked at the girls. “Good job, ladies; you both will be getting major bonuses this month. Enjoy your evening and lock up once Paige is taken care of.”
As he left the room, Jean smirked to himself. At last he had found himself the perfect pair of soles. The entire reason he had gone into shoe design was to fulfill his lusts of seeing beautiful, perfectly pampered soles. That really got his gears in motion.
After over twenty years in this business and countless models he'd been through, at last he had stumbled across the most perfectly sensitive and ticklish specimen yet: Paige Harren.
He rubbed his crotch slowly as he rode the elevator up from the bottom floors of the pedicure salon as he remembered the smell, taste, and reaction of his tickles all over Paige's flawless feet.
Paige was spoon-fed her supper, washed down with some more drugged water so she could pass out and rest deeply for the next day.
Meanwhile, Whitney had received a fake e-mail on her BlackBerry, informing her that Paige had decided to spend a month abroad in Italy visiting various friends she had made over the years, and didn't want to be bothered. She told Whitney to use whatever funds she wished for her own month of vacation anywhere in Europe.
With that in mind, Whitney had no suspicions about Paige's disappearance and happily would fly from Paris to Amsterdam the next morning to begin her own European tour.
Paige groggily woke up as she felt someone readjusting her legs and placing them on a set of solid thighs.
“Ah, they fit just perfectly in my lap, so delicate and infinitely sensitive,” Jean muttered to himself as he massaged her supple soles and noticed her waking up.
“Ah! Good morning, my dear; what a splendid way to wake up, non?” he chuckled, as he massaged his thumbs deeply into her creamy feet.
After more pampering of her feet since being knocked out, Paige didn't realize her feet had spent all night being wrapped in foot wraps and under warm lamps to keep them soft. Jean only did this the first few nights to make sure they stayed ultimately sensitive, but later he would back off on all the pampering.
But when it came to Paige's smooth soles, he was almost obsessive about their state of sensitivity and beauty.
“I just have fallen in love with your soles, Paige; what can I say?” he smirked as he tweaked her toes and enjoyed how she squealed and jumped cutely each time he did.
Paige didn't realize but she had been bathed while passed out, rubbed down with lotion and then changed into a fresh pair of white shorts and tank top. Her arms were bound behind her back and her ankles tied snugly together.
Defensively, Paige curled her toes causing her soles to wrinkle as Jean's fingers glided all up and down the silky, writhing feet.
“I just love how your feet twitch and dance for me, Paige...and what really turns me on is that you can't get away though I know this is agony for you.” He lifted her bound feet up and kissed her toes again and then fluttered kisses down both of her flawless feet.
“Ah, just perfect. Satisfies me more than anything, just being able to tickle and tease your soles.” He laid them back down onto his lap and affectionately rubbed the tops of them with his fingers tenderly.
“You know, Paige, it's rare I've ever come across a set of soles I have so fallen in love with. I guess I am infatuated with yours...which is new to me. I usually just keep the newest model under lock and key for a few days until I get my lusts out...but for you, well, you are something special, Paige,” he chuckled. He ( ) spider-walked his fingers up her arches as she threw her head back and squealed into the gag that was wrapped around her face snugly.
“NooMMphh EEHaammPHH!” she shook her head back and forth, her feet twitching, trying to get away.
“Ah, ah, ah, naughty girls who don't lie still get their toes tied. But I will let it slide for now; after many days of training you will be perfect,” he grinned as he resumed just rubbing her quivering soles with his fingers delicately.
“Noommphh!” Paige protested and giggled and snorted behind the gag as her feet were helplessly kept in his lap and tickled and teased against her will.
How much worse could this situation get?
[Part III]
“...they are just lovely aren't they?” The clinking of champagne glasses was heard. Another bottle of wine was uncorked and bubbled in the background. “I believe they are the most lovely pair I have seen yet.” Quiet laughter, idle chit-chat, bubbly drinks being poured into crystal glasses. All these noises and voices filled Paige's ears as she began to stir.
“What...?” she groaned as her eyes opened and her vision was blurry. Paige shook her head and blinked several times as her sight cleared. What had happened? What was the last thing she remembered?
Paige gasped as she recalled having her feet still being rubbed over by Monsieur Devereau as two of the pedicurists from earlier had walked in holding plates of food and a cup of water.
“Is it that time already?” Monsieur Devereau sighed as he wiggled her pinky toe and that caused Paige to squeal.
“Yes sir, she must get to bed earlier. Tomorrow is a big day,” one pedicurist smirked. She stared down at Paige with merciless eyes as the poor girl had trembled in the bondage.
“Very well, prepare her for bed and feed her well,” he sighed as he stood up and left without another word.
That had been the last thing Paige remembered. Watching Monsieur Devereau take his leave as she was left at the mercy of the pedicurists and after a few bites of food she lost any recollection of what happened.
“What did they feed me?” she shuddered. Obviously it had been drugged or contained something to make her fall asleep. As Paige was lost in her thoughts she gasped as she felt someone blow over her toes.
Paige squealed and her foot wiggled. Staring up her eyes widened as she shrieked and was met with her own reflection staring back at her. Eyes wide with fright, hair slightly disheveled, and snugly wrapped in bondage.
Suddenly she became fully aware of her situation and stared down at her feet and then her eyes traveled over her body as she assessed the extent of her bondage.
Snugly placed into a straight jacket, her arms were hugging beneath her breasts and pushing them up slightly. She was not gagged but her legs were bare and once again they were thrust through a glass wall with cushion-lined holes to keep her ankles secure and comfortable.
Unlike the previous glass wall, Paige didn't realize this was a two way mirror. She couldn't see what was happening to her feet while the people gathered on the other side were able to see her and smirk at her plight.
Again she felt warm air being blown over her toes and she giggled hard as her feet wiggled. As she tried to cover one with the other she felt her heels clack together and she was taken aback. Her feet froze as two strong hands held them still.
“Now now, settle down. Don't want you to ruin these beauties,” a voice chuckled from the other side of the wall.
Paige realized her feet were not bare as she became aware of think straps across her ankles and her toes. She was wearing some kind of heel, lightly strapped to her foot, probably a spring or summer type formal shoe.
“What is going on?” she whimpered and squirmed on the metal table she rested on, while still bound in the straight jacket.
Paige didn't know that while she had been passed out she had been given another pedicure that morning and then her feet had been placed in Monsieur Devereau's newest design for a spring shoe.
“It's a lovely design Jean, I love the color and the heel is just the right height,” a female voice chuckled.
“Thank you, this design was made specially for her, my newest little muse,” Jean Devereau's familiar voice chided back. Paige shuddered at hearing his voice as she despised this man who kept her prisoner only to toy with her tender feet.
How could these friends of him be okay with this? They must be as insane as he was! Obviously if someone's feet were poking from a wall they could tell she was held against her will. None of them seemed to care.
Again warm breath on her toes as she squealed and arched her back. “Enough Louis. Stop teasing her,” Jean's voice chuckled.
“I know Jean, but I love how her feet twitch just by blowing on her toes. I love the shade of red on her nails and the way her feet wiggle. She must be very sensitive,” Louis responded. If Paige could have seen the young man's face, she would have noticed the intense lust in his eyes as he stared hungrily at her shoe clad feet.
“The most sensitive I've ever had to be honest,” Jean smirked proudly.
“Lucky man,” Louis laughed as the men clinked champagne glasses.
Suddenly warm fingers were stroking the tops of Paige's creamy feet. A lot of skin was exposed on the top of her foot since only a few small straps kept the heels buckled to her feet.
“Such soft skin, you must really take care of these beauties,” a female voice said sweetly. Teasingly the woman stroked her sharp nails along the creamy skin of the tops.
“NooEehaAHAa!” Paige laughed hard as her feet wiggled.
“Now that is a reaction! Come now Jean, after seeing her react to just that light touch. Let us see her soles, please,” Louis begged his comrade.
“After the party ends, just stick around. Louis, you and Sophia can tease her soles later,” Jean promised.
Paige whimpered as she heard the two friends chuckle darkly to one another. “Thank you Jean,” Sophia responded. “Sounds like a perfect way to end the evening.”
Paige could only lay helplessly in the straight jacket as the hour slowly ticked by. Every now and then more people would come and admire her feet. Once her toes had been poked through the open toed shoe and she squealed. People rubbed the tops of her feet, tweaked her ankles and one man even hissed along the tops.
She was helpless to stop any of it, only her feet twitching in response to the nonstop attention. Soon a clock chimed eleven and Jean announced the party was over.
Paige heard the rustling of people putting jackets on and congratulating Monsieur Devereau on his newest design as they made their way out of the room. Paige's heart pounded as she knew what was to come. Some one on one time with Jean's friends and her smooth soles.
A door closed and she heard someone approaching her feet from the other side of the wall. “Everyone's gone. What a great gathering, everyone had a splendid time,” Jean sounded pleased.
“How could they not with these little guests of honor?” Sophia licked her lips and wiggled the heel of the shoe cutely.
Paige whimpered aloud and Louis chuckled at her cute reaction. “It's a big deal to this girl to even have her feet touched Jean. She must be a dream come true to you.”
Jean rolled his eyes. “Yes she is quite the catch, but I will share her with you tonight. Do as you wish with her soles, but do not hurt her or flaw her soles in anyway.”
“But of course,” Sophia agreed as Louis nodded. “Then I leave you to it. Please let yourselves out whenever you wish. I would play with her too but I am tired and can fulfill my needs tomorrow. Have fun,” Jean yawned as he walked from the room.
“Alone at last,” Louis smirked as he began to slowly unbuckle one of the heels. “Right to the point,” Sophia laughed as she began to unbuckle the other one.
Paige gasped as she felt fingers unbuckling the tiny straps that kept the heels on her feet. After having her feet confined to those shoes for so long they were left sweaty and feeling more sensitive.
“N-no!” Paige whimpered as the heels were slowly pulled away and her bare feet were revealed. Sophia and Louis both gasped at the beauty of her smooth soles. In comparison to past models of Jean's, these soles looked as they belonged to a goddess.
After the extensive care that Jean and his pedicurists had been putting Paige's soles through the last few days they were at the peak of sensitivity. The skin was flushed pink from being confined in the shoes for the past few hours.
Creamy, white skin was found in her sensitive, high arch and beneath and between her toes. The rest of her foot was smooth and blushed bright pink. It looked as though their nails would just sink into the supple, baby-soft skin.
“Look how smooth,” Sophia kissed the smooth, pink skin of Paige's warm sole. Paige arched her back and screeched with laughter. As soon as cool air had hit her bare, sweaty soles she knew it would be agony.
“And so supple,” Louis responded as he stroked a nail up her arch. Paige thrashed in the straight jacket, unable to bear the touching on her tender soles. This was worse than the pedicure even!
“NooEEHaAHA! PleaseEEahseEE!” she begged and squealed for mercy as she was made to laugh like mad.
“Ohhh she is quite the tender foot!” Louis laughed. He watched with a dark grin as her red painted toes wiggled cutely in the light.
“You know I do believe there is some food left from the party,” Jean took a step away. Soon Paige felt something warm and thick being poured down her sole.
“The melted chocolate left over from the fruit platter,” he smirked. People had been dipping strawberries and cherries in it, but a lot remained. Enough to cover the entirety of one sole.
“Enjoy your meal,” Sophia rolled her eyes as she began to just lightly tickle the twitching sole with her sharp nails. Pointed black nails scratched up and down the delicately wrinkled and creamy arch as Paige flailed about in her bondage, laughing and shrieking in ticklish agony.
The octave of her laughter went up a notch as Louis began to lick the chocolate from her sole. Paige really squealed as he wiggled his persistent tongue between her trembling, pink toes. No inch of Paige's sole was left untouched by his tongue.
“Mmmm...” he licked up her arch as she squealed, “so...” he licked her heel, “...delicious!” He went crazy and licked at her arch, practically lapping at like a hungry animal.
“NnoooEEhaa Haeha! Stop pleaEeaseeSSEEaa! I caaaAAAn't AaaheestandAEEHa it!” Paige arched her back as sweat trickled down her face. Her feet quivered and twitched on the other side of the wall as Jean's two friends took out all their lusts on her feet.
“Just perfect,” Louis licked his lips and began to just plant tiny, ticklish butterfly kisses all over her polished foot, free of all chocolate.
Meanwhile Sophia began hold back Paige's toes and licked beneath them as Paige was lost in her ticklish agony and howls of laughter.
Her laughter echoed around the dark chamber as she was helpless to see what was going to happen to her twitching feet next as they poked from the wall, unable to escape their ticklish torments.
[Part IV]
“Stop kicking so much! You know what happens if you scruff up your feet too much,” a taunting voice said coldly.
Paige Harren stopped her struggling and kicking as the two pedicurists dragged her down the usual dark hall from the room they always kept her in when she wasn't in session with Monsieur Devereau or getting her daily pedicures.
“Tsk tsk Ms. Harren, you know by now there is no escaping us,” the other pedicurist laughed mockingly as Paige glared at her.
“That for damn sure,” Paige inwardly sighed. The two pedicurists seemed to have the strength of club bouncers. She never stood a change to struggle against them enough to regain her freedom.
As they continued to frog march Paige down the cold hallway she looked from one smirking pedicurist to the other. “What does he even want with me today?” she asked in a quivering voice.
One pedicurist laughed menacingly beneath her breath as the other one grinned evilly at Paige. “Obviously we are not at liberty to tell you anything. Just know that Monsieur Deverau has big plans for those soles all afternoon.”
The pedicurists finally arrived at their desired door and pushed it open. Paige's eyes widened as they fell on the third pedicurist holding a very evil looking straight jacket in her arms.
“She all ready?” the third one asked, as she stepped forward. Paige screeched and began to struggle again, kicking her legs wildly.
“Such a fighter. I'm surprised she has any fire left in her after all those delicious soles have been through,” the pedicurist rolled her eyes. They were used to Paige's tantrums by now, her constant struggling, kicking, and screaming.
“In you go, dearie,” one whispered into Paige's ear as the three easily wrestled her into the jacket. Her arms were tugged backwards, like she was hugging her own torso. As her arms were cinched tightly behind her it forced her heaving bosom upward, almost right beneath her collar bone.
One pedicurist grinned darkly as the strap between Paige's trembling thighs was tightly buckled in place, pressing right against her womanhood.
Paige gasped and shuddered as the remaining straps were tightly pulled, buckled, and locked. Paige automatically began her struggles in the jacket but gasped as she realized something wasn't the same.
“I see you notice...or rather feel a new sensation? This jacket is a new design by Monsieur Devereau himself, to help make you more....frustrated I suppose,” one pedicurist laughed.
The poor girl continued to wiggle in the jacket and realized that this jacket was indeed suited to make her completely frustrated. The tight strap buckled between her trembling thighs pressed very tightly between her lips down below. Every time she moved the slightest it would sensuously massage her tiny, hidden love button.
“No....” she moaned as she lowered her head. Sweat beaded her forehead as she realized that all her cruel tormentors realized that the more on edge she was the more sensitive and responsive the model would be.
Paige twisted in the jacket, trying to dislodge the snug crotch strap from pressing so tightly against her womanhood. All was lost as the very silky interior lining of the jacket began to caress and tenderly rub across her very sensitive nipples.
“No!” she screeched and fell to her knees, resulting in the jacket cropping up even further on her womanhood and she gasped. “Take it off....please!”
The three pedicurists enjoyed the show of watching Paige deal with her own frustrations of being right on orgasm. “It's time for your session with Monsieur Deverau, today is a very special day.”
Paige was so consumed with thoughts of the this very evil jacket she didn't even have the strength or will to struggle as the three ladies dragged her from the room.
Before the poor model could realize what was occurring she found herself bound down very snugly. For the first time she rested on her belly on the recliner. A ball gag was once again strapped around her head. Thick, heavy leather straps held her body face down into the squishy chair, preventing any movement.
On the other side of the glass wall her upturned feet rested on a very soft pillow. Monsieur Devereau was just finishing up strapping the last delicate strap across her cutely painted pink toes. Today was a private viewing with a potential investor for his line of summer sandals and flip flops.
“Madame Barry is here to see you,” his secretary announced, peeking her head into the room.
“Show her in,” he smirked, taking a seat by the feet poking from the wall. Madame Barry was very familiar with his secret holding of models and especially his design “muses” which Paige definitely was.
“Jean!” a very high, squeaky voice happily chimed. A very plump, short woman walked into the room, a grin across her rather wrinkly face.
“Patrice!” Jean stood up to embrace his long time friend and fellow Parisian designer.
“I see you have a new design, non?” Patrice grinned as she saw the feet peeking through the wall.
Jean smiled and gestured to a seat on the either side of Paige's wiggling feet. Patrice happily plopped down as Jean resumed sitting on his own chair.
“So this is your newest design for a summer shoe?” Patrice closely examined the beautiful leather sandal, with its delicate few straps that kept it placed on the foot. “Very nice design, I love the color of the leather. What other colors would it come in?”
Jean was pleased to hear his biggest investor was liking his newest design. “Well this is just the prototype to be honest. The shoe will be available in chocolate brown, black, red, blue, and dark green. As you can see I think black looks lovely on her soles personally.”
Patrice laughed gaily and shook her head. “You always did have a way with women's shoes and their feet.”
Jean couldn't help but notice as Patrice lustfully leered at Paige's squirming feet on the pillow.
“You know Patrice, if I didn't know any better, I would think you wished to see my latest model's feet?” Jean jokingly mocked.
Patrice blushed and her eyes shot up to stare at her grinning friend, “Oh Jean,” she breathed out in shock, “could I really? Louis was talking about them, and ohhh...I was SO jealous! I will happily invest in these new designs. To show your thanks, may I see her feet?”
“But of course! But be very gentle, her feet are by far the most sensitive and delicate ones I've ever had,” he proudly said.
“Yes yes,” Patrice huffed out. She impatiently watched as Jean undid all the buckles on Paige's sandals before slowly removing them. The shoes popped off her writhing feet and due to her constant wiggling were rather sweaty at this point.
Patrice inhaled a deep breath of shock as she observed the two rosy, upturned soles resting on the soft white pillow. Leaning forward she closed her eyes and inhaled the musky, yet flowery scent of Paige's incredibly soft feet.
“My god Jean...” she was at a loss for words.
“I know....I know,” he chuckled, rubbing his crotch as he stared at the quivering feet.
Meanwhile, Paige had been resting on the recliner. Her heart began to pound as she felt the shoes being removed, revealing her sweaty soles to the world.
“EEEEE!”she squealed in surprise as she felt someone's hot breath on her soles. The fact they were upturned made her feel more out of control and sensitive.
Patrice Barry didn't even wish to tickle the soft soles. She didn't have a cruel streak in her to torment the feet. No, instead she had a lustful streak in her to completely devour Paige's soles. Every last inch of wrinkly foot flesh would be hers before she stepped from Jean's store.
“I will leave you alone to acquaint yourself with her feet,” Jean stood up, “I'll go fetch us some champagne and cookies in the meantime.”
Patrice was left alone with the creamy soles resting on the pillow at last. With her rather meaty fingers she began to just lightly glide her fingers up and down Paige's creamy white and pink soles.
“EEEEkk!! EeaahaaAHAaahaahAH!” Paige screamed with laughter. Every touch to her feet, be it rubbing or intense tickles like the pedicures, all of them were torture to her now. Any stroke to her sensitive feet was maddening and unbearable.
“Such baby soft flesh,” Patrice all by salivated as her fingers danced lightly around Paige's soles, enjoying the silky texture of the pink soles.
“Mmmm....” Patrice lowered her head and began to lovingly lap at the quivering soles. Feeling the warm flesh beneath her hot tongue tremble and twitch was so arousing she could barely stand it.
Paige was lost in her own storm of arousal, frustration, and torture. As the evil tormentor worshiped her feet, Paige was struggling in her jacket to pull away. The jacket in turn rubbed against her aroused nipples and love button, resulting in making her more sensitive and aroused. What a cruel and devious idea that Jean had come up with, in designing that jacket knowing exactly how Paige would have reacted.
“No moreEEeaahAaa PLEeaseASSEUHhhEEEEHaha!” Paige tried to scream for mercy, but all fell on deaf ears as Patrice couldn't hear a single protest.
Meanwhile Patrice begin to lovingly kiss along Paige's creamy arches, lost in their buttery texture and salty yet sweet flavor. Paige's toes wiggled as Patrice pinched and rubbed them between her fingers, smirking as she continued to kiss the flailing feet.
“Having fun?” a voice laughed out. Jean had returned clutching all the drinks and snacks.
“Jean! I ...I..lost track of the time,” Patrice blushed as she pulled away from Paige's trembling feet, now very rosy from all the attention.
“Her feet are just marvelous Jean, the best you've ever acquired,” Patrice complimented as she sipped the cold champagne.
Smiling proudly the designer took his chair. “You know, since Paige came into my possession I've been more inspired than I ever have. I've gotten more investors and more beautiful designs than I can sell. Paige is truly my perfect muse and good luck charm.”
“And the fact her feet are just perfect?” Patrice joked as she nibbled a small chocolate cookie.
“Well that is just a plus for this perverted old designer!” Jean threw his head back and laughed as Patrice chuckled as well.
Swallowing another sip of the strawberry champagne, Patrice set the glass aside. “You know I have never seen such sensitive feet in my life. I just rubbed them earlier and the way they twitched, you would have thought she was being electrocuted.”
“I know,” Jean lustfully grinned. “You should see them dance when I really go at them.”
Patrice's eyes widened in interest. “Please do go at them!”
Jean nodded agreeably. “Hand me that pumice stone on the table near you,” he said with a smirk.
“But Jean, her feet are already baby smooth, why would you need a pum--” Patrice had began to ask.
“Either hand me the stone or leave. No feet can ever be too soft or sensitive for me. Obviously,” he rolled his eyes.
Patrice handed him the stone immediately and watched with intense interest.
“Now observe,” he chuckled. He pinched Paige's big right toe in between his thumb and pointer finger. Once the foot was held immobile and stretched out, he began to mercilessly and evilly scrape the rough pumice stone up and down Paige's creamy high arch.
Immediately the foot began to spasm, twitching like crazy. The baby toes curling and wiggling like mad, the flesh of her creamy soles was shivering as if on fire. The effect of the aggressive touch was easily observed by Patrice as being unbearable to Paige.
“NNNOEEEEaaAHAaAH! StoppAPAPAEHAA!” Paige screamed with laughter, struggling so hard in the jacket she practically had an orgasm right there as the crotch rope insidiously pressed tightly and rubbed her clit with no mercy.
“AAGghGAAAHAaAheEaahAhaa!” Paige screamed as that warm mouth was once again kissing along her left arch, rubbing and pinching her wiggling toes while the pumice stone continued to stroke and make her delicate skin that much more supple on her right arch.
The madness was far from over for poor Paige. She was the total muse for Jean Devereau and he was not about to let his new lucky charm go. Not in the least.
(To be continued)
