ScribbleMySoles
Registered User
- Joined
- Sep 5, 2020
- Messages
- 4
- Points
- 3
Call me Julia. Interrogator. I won’t name the organization, it’s confidential after all. Almost always I am assigned to work with very young guys, although there are also girls. When you need to “crack” without injury and even psychological damage - with zero evidence!
Having reviewed the case provided to me the day before, I was convinced that today was no exception: “Philip R., 20 years old...”. The son of an influential banker, who at such a young age, by some miracle, rose to the rank of his deputy. According to the investigation, the key person in the uncovered scheme for the illegal withdrawal of funds. Let's see...
Entering the office, I see a young man securely fixed in a leather chair and everything I need to work with him. Hmm, the guy is not bad looking! A young face, thick brown hair, an athletic build, long legs, clothes that fit - what a good thing, a model! He tries to hold on and doesn’t show his emotions. I wonder what he would think if he saw me. I only see him on the monitor broadcasting what is happening behind the wall. And he is there alone. I turn on the microphone so he can hear me - a pair of speakers near his ears will convey everything I need.
- Hello.
Hearing me, the young man began to look around the room for the source of the voice.
- Relax, you won’t see me. Do you know why you're here? - Now I turned on the second microphone behind the wall to hear the answer to my question.
“Screw you,” an almost angry, but velvety voice came to me.
This isn't the first time I've heard this. However, it’s time to evaluate the work material, so to speak, so I turn off my microphone and look to the left of the monitor.
A little more about my working methods. It may not seem strange to you, but one of the main areas of my specialization is feet. And it is this part of the cutie that I just spoke to that flaunts in front of me, being firmly fixed in a special structure in the wall. Even though this is not my first day at work, what I saw today made my heart pleasantly skip a beat.
His feet... no, feetsies, were so soft and rosy in appearance that they looked like ripe velvety peaches. Not a single roughness. Impeccable smoothness, interrupted only by a series of wrinkles on the arches. Smooth, neat shape. And the large size, twelve at least, clearly matches the height of today’s captive.
With such heavenly soles, I could get him in about two minutes while actively "working". But how can you not tinker with such a spectacle a little longer?
I bring my palm close to his soles, which are almost glowing with a pinkish tint, and I feel the warmth emanating from them. At the same moment, a subtle aroma of an intricate floral-fruity composition reaches me. Everything suggests that the young man is simply bathing these feet in care. I turn on the microphone:
— You often do pedicures, pretty boy? — I run my palm along the entire length of his left foot.
Oh gosh, how tender they are! I don't need an answer from him — his soles speak for themselves. Does he even walk with them on our land?
I decided to act gently. I use my other hand and gently run my fingertips along the warm surface of the soles. I outline the seemingly polished heels and sides of the feet. At the same time, I watch how the handsome man on the monitor involuntarily fidgets as much as his bonds allow. It looked especially funny in combination with the remark he threw out:
- I'm not ticklish, leave me alone!
Boy, I haven't started yet! I turn off... no, I don’t turn off my microphone, but I get my manicure into action. My fingertips are replaced by acrylic nails, which begin to run much more briskly along the cute feet flaunting in front of me.
The young man’s reaction was not long in coming: he could barely restrain the laughter rising in his throat. Intending to keep it in this state for more, I again switch from nails to fingertips, without slowing down:
- Such soft feet and not ticklish? Do you know that lying is bad?
- Shut up AHAHAHAHAHAHA!.. - I didn’t let him finish, switching to my favorite tactic, as simple as it can be: I began to rake his feet with my nails unpredictably. The fixation reliably immobilized this pair of pedal perfections, only allowing him to slightly curl his toes, but at the same time did not hide from me a single area of such pampered skin. Fleetingly imagining myself in his place, I involuntarily curled my toes.
There was no order in my movements since these feet were uniformly sensitive. Therefore, my nails could comb the heels at one moment, crawl back and forth along the arches the next, counting the wrinkles on them, and then treat each pampered toe separately.I take my hands off his feet and let him catch his breath... only to lightly poke with one nail at a random point a couple of seconds later. The nail lands on the succulent heel, causing the cutie on the monitor to burst out into a nervous chuckle for a moment, but he quickly holds it. The second nail lands in the center of the arch and barely noticeably scratches along it. The third is on the soft pad of the big toe. Fourth, fifth, sixth... The pace accelerates like a beginning rainstorm, as the stubbornly suppressed smile of my captive becomes wider and wider. And back to scratching...
Without ceasing to scratch the pads under my fingers with one hand, I lowered the volume of the speakers with the other: damaging my hearing, even with the pleasant laughter of a young guy, is not part of my plans. Returning my hand to work, I accidentally touched the handle of one of the drawers with... “tools”. Combs, brushes, all kinds of massagers, sometimes slightly “modified” to suit my needs, oils, sensitivity-increasing serums - I had everything at hand, but this time I wanted to work only with my hands, without any tools. And of course, I didn’t want to leave those perfect soles for the fish tank to deal with, anyway, their owner would probably go crazy from this. Maybe if he miraculously survives everything he has prepared...
- I GIHIHIHVE UPAHAHAHAHA!
So fast? I have not finished yet! I turn off the speakers and continue to scribble the silky soles with my nails. When I started fluttering them between his toes, he almost knocked off his chair. Everything about this spectacle, right down to the play of shadows from the wrinkles on his creamy arches, literally hypnotized me. Especially combined with the feeling of power from the fact that I just so easily cracked this young man, who is in every way stronger than me, with just my nails, just running them over his big and oh-so-tender feet. Offer him a deal? We drop the charges, but once a week he is in this place in this position for a couple of hours in the evening. If only they allowed me to do this...
A hand on my shoulder brought me out of my trance - I was so absorbed in honing my skills on these ideal “training dummies” that I ignored several instructions from management to finish. The prospect of a reprimand was much less upsetting than the unfulfilled desire to interrogate today's young man for at least an hour. Maybe he will get caught again?
Having reviewed the case provided to me the day before, I was convinced that today was no exception: “Philip R., 20 years old...”. The son of an influential banker, who at such a young age, by some miracle, rose to the rank of his deputy. According to the investigation, the key person in the uncovered scheme for the illegal withdrawal of funds. Let's see...
Entering the office, I see a young man securely fixed in a leather chair and everything I need to work with him. Hmm, the guy is not bad looking! A young face, thick brown hair, an athletic build, long legs, clothes that fit - what a good thing, a model! He tries to hold on and doesn’t show his emotions. I wonder what he would think if he saw me. I only see him on the monitor broadcasting what is happening behind the wall. And he is there alone. I turn on the microphone so he can hear me - a pair of speakers near his ears will convey everything I need.
- Hello.
Hearing me, the young man began to look around the room for the source of the voice.
- Relax, you won’t see me. Do you know why you're here? - Now I turned on the second microphone behind the wall to hear the answer to my question.
“Screw you,” an almost angry, but velvety voice came to me.
This isn't the first time I've heard this. However, it’s time to evaluate the work material, so to speak, so I turn off my microphone and look to the left of the monitor.
A little more about my working methods. It may not seem strange to you, but one of the main areas of my specialization is feet. And it is this part of the cutie that I just spoke to that flaunts in front of me, being firmly fixed in a special structure in the wall. Even though this is not my first day at work, what I saw today made my heart pleasantly skip a beat.
His feet... no, feetsies, were so soft and rosy in appearance that they looked like ripe velvety peaches. Not a single roughness. Impeccable smoothness, interrupted only by a series of wrinkles on the arches. Smooth, neat shape. And the large size, twelve at least, clearly matches the height of today’s captive.
With such heavenly soles, I could get him in about two minutes while actively "working". But how can you not tinker with such a spectacle a little longer?
I bring my palm close to his soles, which are almost glowing with a pinkish tint, and I feel the warmth emanating from them. At the same moment, a subtle aroma of an intricate floral-fruity composition reaches me. Everything suggests that the young man is simply bathing these feet in care. I turn on the microphone:
— You often do pedicures, pretty boy? — I run my palm along the entire length of his left foot.
Oh gosh, how tender they are! I don't need an answer from him — his soles speak for themselves. Does he even walk with them on our land?
I decided to act gently. I use my other hand and gently run my fingertips along the warm surface of the soles. I outline the seemingly polished heels and sides of the feet. At the same time, I watch how the handsome man on the monitor involuntarily fidgets as much as his bonds allow. It looked especially funny in combination with the remark he threw out:
- I'm not ticklish, leave me alone!
Boy, I haven't started yet! I turn off... no, I don’t turn off my microphone, but I get my manicure into action. My fingertips are replaced by acrylic nails, which begin to run much more briskly along the cute feet flaunting in front of me.
The young man’s reaction was not long in coming: he could barely restrain the laughter rising in his throat. Intending to keep it in this state for more, I again switch from nails to fingertips, without slowing down:
- Such soft feet and not ticklish? Do you know that lying is bad?
- Shut up AHAHAHAHAHAHA!.. - I didn’t let him finish, switching to my favorite tactic, as simple as it can be: I began to rake his feet with my nails unpredictably. The fixation reliably immobilized this pair of pedal perfections, only allowing him to slightly curl his toes, but at the same time did not hide from me a single area of such pampered skin. Fleetingly imagining myself in his place, I involuntarily curled my toes.
There was no order in my movements since these feet were uniformly sensitive. Therefore, my nails could comb the heels at one moment, crawl back and forth along the arches the next, counting the wrinkles on them, and then treat each pampered toe separately.I take my hands off his feet and let him catch his breath... only to lightly poke with one nail at a random point a couple of seconds later. The nail lands on the succulent heel, causing the cutie on the monitor to burst out into a nervous chuckle for a moment, but he quickly holds it. The second nail lands in the center of the arch and barely noticeably scratches along it. The third is on the soft pad of the big toe. Fourth, fifth, sixth... The pace accelerates like a beginning rainstorm, as the stubbornly suppressed smile of my captive becomes wider and wider. And back to scratching...
Without ceasing to scratch the pads under my fingers with one hand, I lowered the volume of the speakers with the other: damaging my hearing, even with the pleasant laughter of a young guy, is not part of my plans. Returning my hand to work, I accidentally touched the handle of one of the drawers with... “tools”. Combs, brushes, all kinds of massagers, sometimes slightly “modified” to suit my needs, oils, sensitivity-increasing serums - I had everything at hand, but this time I wanted to work only with my hands, without any tools. And of course, I didn’t want to leave those perfect soles for the fish tank to deal with, anyway, their owner would probably go crazy from this. Maybe if he miraculously survives everything he has prepared...
- I GIHIHIHVE UPAHAHAHAHA!
So fast? I have not finished yet! I turn off the speakers and continue to scribble the silky soles with my nails. When I started fluttering them between his toes, he almost knocked off his chair. Everything about this spectacle, right down to the play of shadows from the wrinkles on his creamy arches, literally hypnotized me. Especially combined with the feeling of power from the fact that I just so easily cracked this young man, who is in every way stronger than me, with just my nails, just running them over his big and oh-so-tender feet. Offer him a deal? We drop the charges, but once a week he is in this place in this position for a couple of hours in the evening. If only they allowed me to do this...
A hand on my shoulder brought me out of my trance - I was so absorbed in honing my skills on these ideal “training dummies” that I ignored several instructions from management to finish. The prospect of a reprimand was much less upsetting than the unfulfilled desire to interrogate today's young man for at least an hour. Maybe he will get caught again?
