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  1. #1
    Join Date
    May 2003

    Talking Unethical Research Part 2 (Various/FFF ● Tickle Torture Slaves ● Feet Only)

    Hi! I'd like to share a story I wrote for a commission
    I'm going to post it here in it's entirety, but the text formatting is better on DeviantArt, so check it out there if you can.
    If you like this story, please go drop a fav or a comment on DeviantArt. I'd really appreciate it.

    The story:

    Unethical Research: Part 2
    Various/FFF ● Tickle Torture Slaves ● Feet Only

    Written by

    Commissioned for

    After months upon months in the CIA facility, all three girls are coincidentally sent to the recovery wing at the same time, giving them a chance to spend time together. During this period of reprieve and healing, they catch the eye of a billionaire who's looking to buy a tickle-slave or two.

    This story is a work of fiction written for entertainment purposes.


    Chelsea is laying on a gurney, with a thin blanket covering her from the ankles to the neck. A man is pushing the gurney through a doorway marked -- Psych & Physical Recovery. Inside, a nurse glances at Chelsea’s file, hanging from the gurney, and orders her to be pushed into a medical office where a doctor examines her.

    “Hmmm... Fourteen months in a sleep deprivation tank...” The doctor mutters whilst reading her file. He then asks, “How are you feeling, Subject 16?”

    Despite her apparent stillness, Chelsea is extremely distressed. Her eyes are shut tightly, she’s moaning incessantly and squirming softly yet constantly.

    “Mrrrrrrrrg... Mrrrrrrrg... Light... Hurts...”

    “Your eyes seem to have developed an abnormal photosensitivity. I’ll get you a blindfold. Anything else?”

    “Mrrrrrrrrg... Can’t... Mrrrrrrrrg... Move...”

    “Your muscles have atrophied due to the extended immobility. I’ll sign you up for physiotherapy. How are you feeling emotionally?”

    “Mrrrrrrrrg... Take me back... Mrrrrrrrrg... Please, I beg you... Mrrrrrrrrg... I want to go back...”

    “Back to the tank?”

    “Mrrrrrrrrg... Into the... Nothingness... Mrrrrrrrrg... So calm... So peaceful... Mrrrrrrrrg... I miss my friend...”

    Do you mean Subjects 15 and 17? Let me get you a blindfold.”

    Chelsea relaxes considerably when he fits a blindfold over her eyes. She then answers, “No... I miss my friend... My companion... From the Nothingness...”

    “I see... I think you might be experiencing some form of psychosis. What can you tell me about this friend?”

    “He... She... I don’t know which one... I never see him... And he never speaks... I can only feel him... Tickling my feet...”

    “Ohhhh! I get it now! Well, you’ll get back to ‘him’ soon enough. We just have to stabilize you for a month or so, okay?”

    “Please take me back... He’ll miss my feet... They belong to him... I gave them to him... Willingly... So he wouldn’t... Leave me again... He loves my feet... So much... Tickles them... All the time... Never stops... Never stops...”

    “Riiiigh... Hehehe!” The doctor giggles, finding humor in the relationship she has developed with the tickle-bot. “Don’t worry, you’ll get back to your friend soon. It’s just that all that laughter and immobility took a toll on your body. Not to mention your mind, but that was intentional, so I’m not going to mess with it. I just want to make your body strong again, okay?”


    “By the way, Subjects 15 and 17 are here too. You know them as... Astrid and Hazel. Would you like to share a room with them?”

    “Who? Oh, I remember now. Okay...”

    ◄ REUNITED ►

    Within a padded cell, Hazel is sitting against a wall. Astrid is laying down nearby, with her sexy feet enjoying a rub on Hazel’s lap. Both girls are wearing a pair of white leggings and a tank-top. However, Astrid is tightly restrained within a straightjacket, while Hazel is wearing some sort of oversized knee-boots.

    “Relax... Relax... It’s okay...” Hazel says soothingly, whilst squeezing, twisting and caressing her friend’s big, wide, adorably plushy feet with her small hands.

    Astrid moans with pleasure, then asks, “Please... Just a few seconds... That’s all I’m asking...”

    Hazel starts rubbing a little more vigorously and replies, “No. You know you can’t. Just focus on the foot rub. Aren’t my hands soft? Don’t they feel good?”

    “Yeah... They feel amazing... Sorry. I feel so frustrated, you know? It’s driving me crazy.”

    “I know. I understand. But I can’t let you tickle me.”

    Suddenly, the cell door opens, and two nurses carry Chelsea from the gurney to the padded floor. She’s already wearing leggings and a tank-top, same as her friends; but also a blindfold.

    Astrid and Hazel exclaim in unisson, “Chelsea!”

    One of the nurses addresses Hazel, “We got you a new girl to look after, 17. Keep doing our job for us, and we’ll let you stay here another week.”

    As fast as a bolt of lightning, Hazel gets on her knees and says, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I’ll do a really good job! I swear!”

    “You better, or we’ll tell those scientists you’re ready for more tests! Hahaha!” The other nurse threatens.

    Before leaving, the nurses explain how Chelsea can’t presently move much, and must wear the blindfold at all times.

    “I’ll take really good care of her! I swear!” Hazel promises, looking down at the floor while the nurses leave.

    As soon as the nurses are gone, Hazel and Astrid rush to check out Chelsea.

    “Chelsea? It’s Hazel! And Astrid! Can you understand me?” Hazel asks.

    “Please... Not so loud...”

    “Oh. Sorry. I’m so glad to see you!”

    “Me too!” Astrid agrees.

    “Hey guys... Yeah... I remember you two... You were from before...”

    “Before what?” Hazel asks.

    “The Nothingness... I can’t wait to go back... But I agree with the doc... I’m so weak... I can barely move... I need to get strong, and then I need to go back. My friend is still in there! I can’t leave him alone! That’s the worst... Being alone is the worst... The tickling is nothing compared to that...”

    “Erm... You’re not alone. You’re here with us! How can I make it better? Would you like a foot rub?” Hazel proposes.

    “NO! DON’T!” Chelsea exclaims, sounding appalled with the notion.

    “I won’t! Calm down... I won’t touch your feet... But why not? I’m pretty good at it.”

    “She really is.” Astrid agrees.

    “No one can touch my feet except my friend! They belong to him! Or her! Only he can touch and tickle them! And I love him for that! His tickles are all I have in the Nothingness! Where I belong!”

    She tells them about the silent companion who keeps her company in her journey through the void. Hazel and Astrid stare at each other, not saying a word but sharing the same thought, “She has completely lost her mind.”

    “It’s okay. We’ll respect your wish. Would you like to know what we’ve been going though?” Hazel asks.


    “They’ve used my feet for experiments. They’re like... 5000 times more sensitive than before, which probably makes them the most ticklish feet in the world.”

    “Wow... My friend would love that... Maybe I should get the same...”

    Hazel is appalled by this comment, but continues her story. “Erm... Anyway... They also turned them into erroneous areas... They conditioned me to get turned on when my feet are touched.”

    “Oh my... I’d love that! It sounds amazing! I’d be able to make love with my friend! We could become a couple!”

    “Right... And they also made me these special shoes.” Hazel says, tapping her boots. “They’re strapped tightly around my shins, and let me walk without my feet touching anything at all; not even the inside of the shoe, if I’m careful. They’re a godsend... Without them, I can’t walk without feeling every speck of dust on the ground; without feeling pain, arousal or tickling, depending on the floor. They put me through experiments where I was forced to walk on hundreds of different surfaces, just so they could see my reaction.”

    She goes silent, appearing traumatized. Astrid scoots herself closer and leans against her. “Thanks,” Hazel says, hugging her friend.

    “Is this your first time here, Chelsea? In the recovery wing?” Hazel asks Chelsea.


    “It’s my third time. And it’s Astrid’s second visit. They had to send me here after only three months; that’s a record, from what the nurses told me. Those first three months were the worst, because I didn’t have these boots yet. So I had no choice but to feel everything, around the clock, without relief. I could feel every individual strand of cotton on my bed sheet. Not even getting my feet up helped, because I could feel the air moving, like an erotic massage. I ended up with a massive nervous breakdown, and needed five months of intensive psychiatric recovery. I spent most of those days crying and babbling uncontrollably, with my feet hanging inside an airtight box filled with completely dust-free helium. It’s the lightest non-flammable gas, you see? The first time they put my feet inside that thing, I broke into tears of happiness, because for the first time in months, I couldn’t feel anything with my feet.”

    “Sounds really tough...” Chelsea comments.

    “Yeah... Astrid had a really hard time too. Wanna share?” Hazel asks Astrid.

    “Sure.” Astrid replies. “Basically, they used me for tickle-torture practice. They didn’t enhance my feet, like they did to Hazel, but the tortures they put me through make hers look like child’s play. No offence.”

    “None taken. I know that the scientists who tickled me were far from expert ticklers.”

    “Every single day, I had an army of professional ticklers RAVAGING my feet with the most mind-wracking tickling tools and techniques known to man. And my feet are big, so they had plenty of room to play with. After five months of tickling, I completely lost my mind and was sent here for a four-month recovery.”

    “Tell her why you’re wearing a straitjacket.”

    “I’m getting there. My first stretch as a practice dummy made me feel extremely frustrated. As the months passed, I started longing to tickle someone. I didn’t even care who. I just wanted to tickle someone back. I told that to the teacher, but she laughed and taunted me that I’d never tickle anyone. Then, during my first time in recovery, those bitch nurses told me that when I got better, I was going to become a tickler instead of a ticklee; and I believed them! But when I was taken back, I was immediately put back in restraints for another five-months as a ticklee! Which made me feel even more frustrated! So the reason why I was put in a straitjacket is to protect Hazel from me. If I was set loose, I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from pinning her down and tickling her feet for who knows how long.”

    She then whispers to Hazel, who’s still holding her, “Let me tickle you... Please... I beg you... Just a few seconds... Just with the tip of my nose...”

    “No! My feet are too sensitive... Please stop asking for that...” Hazel whispers back.

    “Just ten seconds, with the tip of my nose. Then I’ll stop bugging you. I promise.”

    Hazel closes her eyes, considering the proposal. Then replies, “No. Someday, they’re going to send me back to the lab, and I’ll have no choice but to be tickled. I need to enjoy this break as much as possible. And so do you. Stop asking for that and focus on the fact that you’re not being tickled!”

    Astrid looks down and whimpers, “Okay... Can I have another rub?”

    “Absolutely! As many as you want!” Hazel exclaims. She leans against the nearest wall and pulls Astrid’s feet onto her lap, where she starts massaging them vigorously.


    The next two weeks feel like a vacation to the three of them. Hanging out in a padded cell and a couple other medical rooms may not sound like much, but it’s a break from tickling and other abuses. Also, this is the first time in 14 months they got to be together, so it feels pretty darn special.

    Chelsea gets physiotherapy by the nurses, but mostly from Hazel. Within a week, she regains most of her mobility, and becomes able to help with Astrid’s foot rubs. She doesn’t recover psychologically, though. Everyday she asks a nurse if she can go back to her friend, but they always tell her she needs more physical recovery.

    Sadly, Astrid doesn’t recover at all. She appreciates the relaxing massages and the break from the tickle-torture, but still feels a burning desire to tickle someone, specially Hazel, and so must remain in the straitjacket.

    As for Hazel, she feels more nervous with every passing day, because her stay in the recovery wing is coming to an end. She doesn’t know exactly when the scientists will come pick her up, but she’s expecting it to happen any day now.


    Without warning, the cell door opens, and three women enter the padded room. Two of them are nurses; the third is a well dressed, beautiful middle-aged woman. She’s caucasian, has long black hair, tied in a ponytail, gray eyes, and a rather smug look about her.

    The nurses explain to her what’s going on with each girl, making them feel like animals in a zoo. The woman raises an eyebrow when the nurses explain what was done to Hazel’s feet. She then demands, “I want to see her feet.”

    “No! Please don’t!” Hazel pleads, but the nurses convince her to obey with intense, angry stares. So she sits down and reluctantly takes off her left boot. As soon as her foot is exposed, she shudders, feeling a shiver run up her spine.

    “Is this enough?” She asks, holding her foot in the air.

    The woman approaches and examines her little sole, nodding approvingly.

    “I want to give her a tickle.”

    “No! No! Please don’t!” Hazel begs, shaking her head sideways. But despite her plea, the woman raises a hand full of long fingernails, and scrambles them down her scrunched up sole.

    Hazel immediately screams and throws herself to the side with a traumatized expression.


    The woman smirks and says, “I’ll take her.” She turns around to leave, then stops and gazes at Astrid. “Have we met? Your face is familiar.”

    “I... I don’t think so...”

    “Hmm... Nurse, how was she acquired?”

    “At a political protest turned riot.”

    “A protest...” The woman muses thoughtfully, ”Girl, were you at a protest last year?”

    “Yeeees...” Astrid replies cautiously.

    “North of New Hyde Park?”


    “Yes! Yes it was you! I remember now! I saw you from a window while you savages protested in front of my house! You banged against my gate all day! And you threw all sorts of crap onto my lawn! Were all three of you there?”

    Chelsea and Hazel nod, then the woman addresses the nurses, “I want all three of them. I’ll pay whatever you people want, but I must have all three!”

    ◄ BOXED ►

    After another week in recovery, Hazel, Astrid and Chelsea are being mummified inside full body straitjackets, and fitted with sensory deprivation hoods which block their mouth and ears. They are then placed inside coffin-like, airtight transport boxes, featuring a life support system, and an internal foam padding which hugs the occupant’s body closely.

    As Hazel’s box is being closed, she opens her eyes wide and screeches hysterically, but her scream is completely cut off when the lid is sealed. Within their boxes, she and Astrid are going completely mental, hating every second of this extreme confinement. Chelsea, however, feels right at home.

    The boxes are loaded into a truck and delivered to a mansion north of New Hyde Park; the lavish residence of Miss Sophia Bates, a billionaire stock-market investor with a huge feet tickling fetish, who has recently renovated her mansion’s basement into the tickle-prison of her dreams. She was only planning to have a slave or two, but Hazel, Astrid and Chelsea are such a perfect trio that she simply had to have the full set.

    Thanks to their time under the custody of the CIA, the three girls don’t need to be broken in. At least, that’s how it seems to Miss Bates, because as soon as they are released from their boxes, they show nothing short of absolute obedience and respect.

    After the unboxing, the girls are equipped with slave collars and given a tour of their new home. The main chamber is basically a two-story tall Turkish bath, with a central bathing poll, a massage table, a pedicure chair, a sensory deprivation tank with holes for the feet, a lounging area with couches, and a dining area. There are also several cats which roam freely.

    The main chamber is surrounded by several smaller rooms. There’s a bathroom, a bedroom, a padded cell, a tickling dungeon, and a staff room, from where a small team monitors the girls 24/7 and tends to their every need; as well the cats’.

    ◄ Chelsea ►

    After a good night’s sleep, shower and breakfast, the girls begin their first day as private tickle-slaves. Miss Bates sits down on the pedicure chair. She takes off her flip-flops and soaks her feet in a basin full of warm water. Next to her, Chelsea is laying down on an open-top, sensory deprivation tank, with her feet sticking out, and her wrists strapped to the tank’s sides.

    Chelsea is wearing nothing except a black bikini, a blindfold, and a thick metal collar with the words ‘TICKLISH’ printed on it. All three girls are forced to wear collars like this. If they approach the exit or become uncooperative, the devices will inject them with a fast-action muscular relaxant.

    Hazel is kneeling in front of Miss Bates, and Astrid is sitting in front of Chelsea’s soles. In addition to the collars, they’re both wearing tight leather pants and a marching tank-top. Hazel is also wearing her special boots, and Astrid is wearing black, fuzzy bedroom slippers.

    Miss Bates addresses Chelsea, “I hate getting my feet done. They’re just so darn ticklish. Getting a pedicure is so embarrassing if you’re trying to keep your feet still and bite back laughter... But it should feel less humiliating if the girl next to me is having an even worse time. That’s going to be your job, Chelsea.”

    “Yes, Miss.” Chelsea replies obediently.

    “As for you, Hazel...”

    “Yes, Miss Bates?” Hazel asks, looking down at her Mistress’ feet, soaking in water.

    “You’re going to give me my pedicure. If you deliberately try to tickle me, I’ll have your little feet tickled all day. Understood?”

    “Yes, Miss Bates! Understood!”

    “Good. And you, Astrid, you’re going to give Chelsea the most ticklish pedicure you can.”

    “Yes, Miss Bates.” Astrid replies, sounding eager.

    “Alright, then. Let’s get started.”

    Hazel picks up the woman’s left, princess-like, size 7 (US) foot and starts scrubbing it with a pumice stone as gently as possible; but even so, Sophia is constantly smiling with her eyes fixed on Hazel, and gripping the armrests tightly. Whenever she giggles, or heaven forbid, chuckles, Hazel pauses the scrubbing for a moment and opens her eyes wide with fear until Miss Bates nods for her to continue.

    Next to them, Chelsea bursts out laughing when Astrid starts scrubbing her right foot with an abrasive spinning brush. It’s not the most efficient way to exfoliate feet, but Chelsea doesn’t really need a pedicure; the real goal is to tickle her.


    Astrid is grinning hugely, feeling immensely satisfied to finally get to tickle someone.

    “Does this tickle, Miss Chelsea? I’m so terribly sorry...” She taunts, without alleviating the tickling in any way.

    Chelsea starts rubbing her feet together, prompting Astrid to say, “Miss, you must hold your feet steady! Miss! Behave yourself!”


    Sophia glances at this scene and smiles widely; then she suddenly chuckles.


    Hazel stops, positively petrified with fear, but her Mistress nods for her to continue.

    “YAAAAARG! HAAA-HAAA-HAA-HAHAHAAA!” Chelsea cackles away, as the abrasive bristles spin against her right arch. Astrid is having to keep a hand between her feet to keep them separate.

    “Hush, Miss. It’s not that bad.” Astrid teases.

    “Yes, indeed, Chelsea. You should be embarrassed of making such a scene.” Sophia says.


    A little while later, Miss Bates is having her feet gently washed and rubbed with soapy water and a sponge. “Hmmm... Your little hands feel absolutely heavenly...” She moans.

    “Thank you, Miss.” Hazel replies.

    Next to them, Chelsea is screeching hysterically as her feet are roughly washed with a dishwashing brush. “YEEEEEEEAAAAAARG! HAAAA-HAAAA-HAAAA-HAAAA! STOOOP!”

    “You’re such an embarrassment, Chelsea! Quiet down!” Astrid taunts her friend.

    “Yes, you need to calm down, Chelsea. She’s just washing your feet.” Sophie agrees.

    “HAAAAAA-HAHAHAHAAAAA! I CAAAN’T TAKE IT! BWAAAA-HAA-HAA-HAAA!” The girl howls, as the brush scrubs up and down her poor, scrunched up, ticklish foot.

    “Open up your toes! You need to get your sole straightened out!” Astrid demands.

    Miss Bates giggles evilly, pleased with Astrid’s cruelty. Hazel stops washing, but Sophia quickly nods her to continue.

    Astrid takes hold of Chelsea’s left toes and forces them back, unwrinkling that sole. She then mercilessly brushes into it, causing Chelsea to scream and immediately press her feet together. “BWAAAAA-HAHAHAHAAAA! NOOOOO!”

    “You’re impossible, Chelsea! Hold your feet still!”

    “Yes, spread out your toes, or you’ll have to spend an extra hour in the salon!” Sophia threatens.

    With a gargantuan effort, Chelsea hides her right foot behind the left one, allowing Astrid to freely scrub up and down her taunt left sole. “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAARG!” She squeals, convulsing her entire body.

    “There you go... It’s just a little pedicure...” Astrid teases.


    “Oh please... I’ve had far, far worse than anything you can possibly do.” Astrid answers the threat, sounding completely unafraid.


    Sometime later, Hazel is lotioning Miss Bates’ feet. The girl has finally relaxed, because this part of the pedicure doesn’t tickle her Mistress in the slightest. The middle-aged woman is moaning with pleasure as Hazel’s little hands squeeze and caress her slippery feet.

    Next to them, Astrid is hydrating Chelsea’s feet with baby oil, but instead of massaging, she’s tickling the hell out of them with her fingernails and hard hair brushes.

    “NOOOOOOOOO-HOOOO-HOOOO-HOOOO!” Chelsea cackles uncontrollably, struggling like a maniac against her bondage.

    “What’s wrong? What’s wrong, Miss? It’s just a massage!” Astrid taunts, spidering her nails into Chelsea’s oily soles. She then forces her nails under her toes, causing Chelsea buckle and squirm whilst screaming hysterically.


    Moments later, Astrid picks up a hairbrush, holds back Chelsea’s right toes, and starts vigorously brushing the balls of her foot. Chelsea completely loses it.


    “Oh dear... Do calm down. It’s only a massage.” Miss Bates taunts evilly, watching Chelsea’s feet being tickle-tortured while she gets a proper massage.


    After the pedicure was finished, Miss Bates left her tickle-slaves alone for the rest of the day while she went to get some work done at her office in Manhattan.

    Chelsea got a shower, then decided to get back in the sensory deprivation chamber, but this time fully sealed. Before going in, she asked Hazel to rub her feet while she’s inside. Chelsea has accepted that her old friend isn’t coming back, so she might as well get a new friend; one whose company won’t feel so ticklish.

    Several times throughout the day, Astrid attempts to tickle the other two. Eventually, Hazel gets fed up and begs the guards to lock her obsessed friend in the padded cell so they can have some peace.

    When Bates returns from work, she finds Hazel caressing Chelsea’s feet and Astrid locked up. She smiles evilly and orders, “Guards, please get Hazel in a straitjacket.”

    Hazel immediately understands what Sophia intends to do, so she squeals and starts running around the room, begging for mercy. But the guards simply activate her collar and get her powerless body secured.

    Bates then opens the padded cell and sings, “Ohhh Orpheuuuuus! I got you a plaaaaaymaaaaaate!”

    Astrid watches excited as Hazel is set down on the padded floor, still under the effect of the muscular relaxant.

    “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Hazel cries out as the door is closed and Astrid starts removing her boots.

    “Leave them alone for the night. I’ll check in on them tomorrow morning.” Bates orders the guards. She then sits down in front of Chelsea, who’s wondering where Hazel went.

    Miss Bates resumes the massage, feeling Chelsea’s immensely soft, freshly pedicured soles under her hands. Then, she starts delivering little tickles from time to time, watching her feet twitch away, clearly unsure whether they should get defensive or try to relax.

    Sophia torments Chelsea like this for a couple minutes, then goes fetch a bunch of tickle-tools from the dungeon, restrains the girl’s big toes with a set of metal toe-cuffs, and starts tickling her feet with a pair of electric toothbrushes.

    “BWAAAAAAAAAAA-HAAAAAAA-HAAAAAA-HAAAAA! HazelAAAAA!” Chelsea cries out, as the bristles spin up and down her arches.

    ◄ Hazel ►

    Two minutes earlier, Hazel is screaming hysterically while a very excited Astrid removes her precious boots. “NOOOOOOOOOOOO! PLEEEEEASE! DOOOON’T!”

    “At last... Do you have any idea how much I’ve dreamed of this moment?” Astrid asks, gazing upon Hazel’s bare left sole.


    Astrid blows softly on the delicate little foot.

    “YEAAAAAAAARG! HeHeHeHeHeeeee!” Hazel squeals and giggles.

    “This is gonna be so much fun! And afterwards, I’ll give them a rub, okay? To thank you for all the rubs you gave me.” Astrid says, removing the other boot.

    “But my feet are erogenous now! Remember?! They’re like two big clits!”

    Astrid rolls Hazel onto her belly and saddles her ankles, trapping Hazel’s tiny feet between her legs.

    “It should feel really good for you, then. Now, show me a smile...” Astrid says, gently dragging her fingertips over Hazel’s silky soles, which are still relaxed due to the muscular relaxant.

    Hazel inhales deeply with a surprised look on her face, then bursts out laughing.


    “Tickle, tickle... They’re sooooooo cute! I’m barely doing anything!”

    Astrid’s fingertips casually wave and flutter, delivering extremely playful, gentle tickles. At least, they would be gentle to a normal pair of feet, but to Hazel’s enhanced nerves, they feel intensely tickly.


    “Gouchi, gouchi, goooo!” Astrid coos.

    “NAAAAAA-HAHAHAHAHAAA! I CAAAN’T! I CAAAN’T! YEEEEEAAARG! HEE-HEEE!” Hazel squeals with laughter, as Astrid fingertips playfully tease her adorable little soles.

    This goes on for a couple minutes, along which Hazel gradually regains control over her muscles, but control might not be the right word, because with the tickling impulses overwhelming her nervous system, all that she can do is squirm and struggle uncontrollably.

    Astrid is now teasing with her short fingernails, softly digging into Hazel’s squirmy, scrunched up feet. “Rub your feet together all you want. You can’t escape the tickles! Tickle, tickle, tickle!” She taunts, gazing upon her friend’s milky, hyper-sensitive feet, finally at her mercy.

    “BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-HAAAAAAAAAAAA-HAAAAAAAAAAA-HAAAAAAAAA!” Poor Hazel screams with laughter. These sensations are so intense to her, they nearly block out every other stimuli. All that she knows are Astrid’s nails dancing on her feet; there’s nothing else in the whole universe.


    Astrid tickled Hazel for nearly three hours until she felt satisfied. She wasn’t expecting to stop so soon, but because Hazel’s feet are so delightfully soft, pretty and fun to tickle, those three hours were enough for her. Besides, she strongly suspects their new mistress will give her alone time with Hazel’s feet on a regular basis. Perhaps even in the tickle-dungeon.

    “That would be incredible...” Astrid thinks, dreaming about Hazel’s little feet stuck on a drafting table, like hers were.

    In a complete reversal of their roles in the recovery ward, Hazel is now the one in a straightjacket, laying down on the padded floor, with her feet on Astrid’s lap. Her cheeks are deepy blushed, and her face is wet with sweat and tears of laughter. She’s taking deep breaths with a tired expression.

    “Ready for your foot rub, sweety?”

    “Please don’t... Please...” Hazel moans, too tired to resist.

    “You look so tired! I’m surprised you took all that without that gas that kept us awake.”

    “They did something to me... The scientists... To increase my endurance... I haven’t passed out since... The second month... Even without the gas...”

    “Oh! They never did that to me. But I guess I was just a practice dummy. You were the lab rat.”

    Hazel casts her a stare bristling with annoyance.

    “Hehe! A very cute rat, though! Don’t be offended.”

    Hazel looks away and sighs.

    “Well, let's get started.” Astrid says, taking hold of Hazel’s feet and rubbing her thumbs in circles.

    Hazel shudders, widens her eyes for a moment, and softly tugs her legs, but Astrid doesn’t let her feet get away.

    “No, no, no... Your feet stay right here. Enjoy the rub.”

    As Astrid’s thumbs carry on, pressing and dragging against Hazel’s soles, the smaller girl closes her eyes and twists her body softly, releasing a moan of pleasure.


    “Feels good, huh?”

    “You have no idea how it feels... Ohhhhhhhh... It’s beyond words...”

    “Can you try describing it?”

    “It’s overwhelming... Ohhhhhhhhhh... My brain... It’s not made to take so much pleasure... Try imagining something that feels so insanely good... Your brain can’t even process it... It’s like a tsunami of pleasure... And the shore is my brain... Ohhhhhhhh... And it’s sexual too... GOD! You’re turning me on so fucking much! OHHHHHHHH!”

    “Do you want me to stop?” Astrid asks, guessing the answer.

    “NO! You can’t stop now! OHHHHHHHHH! YEEEEEEES! Don’t stop! I’m so close!”

    Astrid keeps rubbing with her thumbs, watching her friend’s feet twisting around, opening and closing their toes. Hazel also starts squirming her restrained body with a look of absolute ecstasy on her face. She then scrunches her toes and moans very loudly, obviously experiencing a huge orgasm rushing through her.


    Astrid stops touching Hazel’s feet, so she can calm down.

    “This is insane. I can’t believe I made you climax just by rubbing your feet.”

    Gasping for air, Hazel replies, “I know... It is insane... And that’s not all... Wanna hear the weirdest?”


    “The orgasm didn’t erupt from my pussy... It happened on my feet...”

    “Whaaat?! Seriously?!”

    “Yeah... Those bastards at the lab... They gave me foot orgasm syndrome...”

    “No way! You’re making this up!”

    “I’m not... I swear. It’s a real syndrome. Pretty darn rare, but real. They jacked up my sensitivity to hell... Then did something else to my nervous system to make my feet an erogenous area... And that gave me the syndrome.”

    “How’s that even possible? An orgasm on your feet? How does it feel?”

    “It feels exactly the same as a regular orgasm, but comes from inside my feet.”

    “I see...” Astrid replies thoughtfully.

    “Having said that, can you please leave my feet alone?”

    “But why? Orgasms feel good.”

    “It felt like you were raping me!” Hazel shouts, sitting over her crossed legs.

    “Oh, sweetie!” Astrid exclaims, rushing to comfort her friend. She turns her around and hugs her from behind, then whispers, “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I want to share a secret with you.”

    “What secret?”

    “I have the hots for you. I was building up the courage to tell you, but then we were arrested at that protest...”

    Hazel opens her eyes wide and utters, “You have?!”

    “Yeah... I think you’re the cutest, most adorable baby girl in the world...” Astrid says, kissing Hazel’s neck from behind.

    “Astrid... I’m not lesbian... Not even bi...”

    “I know. But given our predicament, I think you’ll eventually come to love me, because it’s not like there’s another choice.”

    “No! Don’t say that! We’ll escape! You’ll see!”

    “No we won’t. No one’s even looking for us. We’re completely screwed.”

    “No! Please don’t tell me you really believe that?! We have to have hope! I’ve only been acting like this to earn Bate’s trust! But one day, I will escape! We all will!”

    “You’re delusional. Our captors are like... The most powerful, richest people in the world. Even if we escaped, do you think they would forget about us? They would hunt us and capture us wherever we ran. We’re tickle-slaves now, and there’s nothing we can do about it.”

    “No... No. NO! I won’t accept it!”

    “You will, in time. Ready for another footgasm, girlfriend? Or would you rather have some tickles?”

    “NO! GET AWAY FROM ME!” Hazel shouts, tossing herself away from Astrid.

    “Haha! Where do you think you’re going?”

    Astrid grabs one of Hazel’s feet, pulls it towards her, and kisses it in the middle of the sole, causing Hazel to squeal.


    “Ask me for a footgasm. Do it, or I’ll tickle you instead!”

    “NO! GET AWAY!”

    Astrid replies by scrambling a handful of nails into Hazel’s wrinkled sole.

    “BWAAAAAAAAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-HAA-HAAAAAA!” The girl explodes with laughter, convulsing her entire body like a fish out of water.

    Taking advantage of Hazel’s tickling-induced lack of coordination, Astrid saddles her ankles, restricting her feet like before. She then proceeds to spider her fingernails all over Hazel’s little feet, watching delighted as they scramble over each other, trying desperately to escape the tickles.

    “Just ask me for a footgasm, and this will all stop...”


    “We’ll see about that! Tickle, tickle, tickle!” Astrid taunts with a grin on her face.

    ◄ Astrid ►

    Come morning, Miss Bates is greeted by the sight of Hazel, still in the straitjacket, spooning with Astrid on the padded floor.

    “Dawww... Aren’t my pets cute?” The woman coos. She then kneels and tickles Hazel’s left foot and Astrid’s right foot, rousing them awake. “Rise and shine, my lovelies!” She says, watching them scramble into attention.

    “Did you have fun?”

    Hazel nods negatively, while Astrid does the opposite.

    “In that case, I’ll play with you today,” Bates says, looking at Astrid, “in the dungeon.”

    “Y-Yes, Miss Bates.” Astrid stutters.

    “And you can help, if you want.” She offers Hazel.

    “Yes, please.” Hazel replies, clearly eager for revenge, but trying not to show it. “Miss Bates, may I invite Chelsea too?

    “No. Three ticklers are a crowd. But you two can tickle her after lunch all you want.”

    Astrid swallows dryly at the notion. She’s in for a rough day.


    After the girls take care of their basic needs, Miss Bates takes them to the tickling dungeon. There are several bondage devices available, all of which have a clear focus on rendering the feet helpless.

    “Let’s go with... This one!” Bates says, pointing to a padded bondage chair with a high leg rest and a set of stocks at the end.

    Astrid obediently sits down and gets her shins up on the leg rest. Bates closes the stocks over her ankles, while Hazel starts strapping her upper body with vengeful enthusiasm.

    When Astrid’s arms, thighs, and shins are strapped down, the other two women secure her toes with small leather cuffs and tie them back to the stocks, leaving her big, plushy, sexy soles stretched taunt, with all toes spread out.

    “So soft... And so much space to play with!” Bates says, caressing her left foot. She then asks Hazel, “Do you have any tips for tickling her?”

    “No, she never actually told me. But I’m eager to learn how to best drive her nuts.” Hazel replies. Whilst caressing her right sole, she’s thinking of the terrible night she suffered under Astrid' care.

    “Haha! I bet you are!” Miss Bates says, smiling wickedly. Her plan of turning the girls against each other is working like a charm. Keeping the lower classes squabbling instead of uniting against the ruling class is a strategy that never gets old; or boring.

    Bates gets up and walks up to a cabinet. She opens two doors, revealing six shelves full of the tickle tools, and several more hanging on the doors’ interiors. “Let's start with feathers and work our way up.” She tells Hazel.

    “Yes, Miss.” The girl replies, looking straight into her friend’s eyes. “Are you feather-ticklish?”

    Astrid doesn’t answer verbally, but she shudders when she sees Miss Bates approaching the stocks holding four turkey tail feathers. She then produces a ticklish groan when both women start stroking her soles.

    “Mrrrrrg! Mhhh! Mhhh! Mhhh!” She groans, with a big smile taking over her lips. This doesn’t last more than a few seconds, though. “Yeeeeek! Tehehehehe!” She squeals and giggles, then bursts out laughing, “HeHeHeHEEE! HAA-HA-HA-HA-HA!”

    Both women carry on, watching Astrid’s awesome soles and toes twitch under the feather’s soft caresses. Miss Bates is presently focusing on the middle of her sole, running her feathers in a cascate. As for Hazel, she decides to tease her toe pads with sideways strokes.

    “HAAA-HAAA-HAAA-HAA-HAAAA!” Astrid laughs uncontrollably.

    The feet-feathering goes on for about 10 minutes, at which point Bates decides Astrid has had enough of a warm-up, so she fetches a bunch of tools, dumps them on a metal tray, and lays the tray on a little stool underneath Astrid’s feet. She then picks up two electric toothbrushes from the tray, and starts buzzing their bristles sideways on Astrid’s heel, slowly zig-zagging them up the taunt sole.

    “BWAAAAAAAAA-HAAAA-HAAAA-HAAAA-HAAAA!” The girl explodes with laughter.

    Hazel drops her feathers and starts tickling with her little fingernails. For a few moments, her spidering nails completely steal Astrid’s attention.

    “HOOOOOO-NOOO-NOOO-NOOO! YEEEEEAAARG! HEEE-HEEE-HEE-HEEEEE!” Astrid cries out almost hysterically, buckling against her bondage, and staring straight at Hazel with watery eyes filled with surprise.

    Miss Bates watches the scene without pausing her tickling, clearly amused with the reaction drawn by Hazel’s technique. “Haha! You’re getting her good! Had you ever done that before?”

    “Thank you, Miss. No, never; but tickling can be learned by being tickled. There was this Asian girl who was sometimes invited to test her fingernail tickling on me... It was hellish! I’m just trying to duplicate how she tickled me.”

    Astrid doesn’t give any indication of it, but she knows exactly who Hazel is talking about; it must be Ruby, an Asian student with a tremendous talent for fingernail tickling.

    “PLEEEASE STOP! NOOOOAAAAAH! HAAAA-HAAA-HAAA-HAAAA!” She cackles, as Hazel’s little nails scramble away and drag down her big sole, leaving faint, short-lived red lines in their wake.

    “Maybe I should use my nails too.”

    “Actually, it would be worse for her if we use different tools.”

    “Alright, but I want to tickle with my fingernails next. You have 10 minutes.”

    “Yes, Miss.”

    “HAAAAAAAAAAAAARG! NONONONOO! HOOOOOOO-HO-HO-HO-HOOOO!” Astrid howls, as Hazel’s little nails carry on with their unbearably tickly ballet, and Sophia’s toothbrushes buzz away, up and down her pale arch.


    About five hours later, Astrid is laughing hysterically while Hazel tortures her left sole with two Wartenberg pinwheels, rolling them up and down. Meanwhile, Miss Bates is using an electric flosser between her right toes, while also slowly spidering her long fingernails down that sole.

    “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARG! HAAAAAA-HAAAAA-HAAAA-HAAAA!” Astrid screams, tossing her head sideways and crying tears of laughter.

    “Alright, I have work to do.” Sophia says, laying down the flosser. Hazel also stops tickling.

    Miss Bates continues, “I’ll tell the guards that for the rest of the day, Astrid is your prisoner. You can tickle her however you like, as much as you want, alone or with Chelsea.”

    Astrid whimpers, and tugs at her arms out of sheer reflex.

    Hazel bows her head and replies, “Thank you, Miss.”

    Bates then walks off the room, smiling with contentment. When she’s gone, Hazel sits on a chair next to Astrid and says, “So, did you have fun?”

    Huffing and panting, she replies, “Was that... All you got? Girlfriend?”

    Hazel raises an eyebrow while Astrid continues, “I’ve had so much worse than this... Soooo much worse... This was almost easy...”

    “I was going to ask if you were ready to drop that girlfriend nonsense, but I guess you’re going to need more persuasion...”

    “Do your worst, sweetie. I can take it.”

    Hazel rolls her eyes and returns to Astrid’s feet, where she starts casually teasing with her little nails.

    “Teehehe-He-He-HE-HEEE!” Astrid squirms.

    “Still want to be my girlfriend? This is how I’m going to love you back! With tickling! Having fun, girlfriend?”

    “He-He-He! Fine! Haaa-HAHAHAAA! I’m going to tickle you too! Ha-Ha-Ha-HAAA! And your feet... HAAA-HA-HA-HAAA! Are way more tickliiiish! Hi-Hi-Hi-Hiiiii!”

    Hazel makes a face, because Astrid has a point. She’ll probably never dissuade her like this, but what else can she do? Feeling frustrated, she starts furiously raking down both soles with her nails.

    “BWAAAAAAAAA-HAAAAA-HAAAAA-HAAAA!” Astrid explodes with laughter.

    “Yeah? But there’s two of us! I’m going to give you a lunch break, then I’m going to spend the entire afternoon AND evening tickling your feet with Chelsea, as hard as I can!”


    After lunch, the guards force Astrid back into bondage. Hazel and Chelsea are now lotioning her feet with baby oil. On the tray in front of the stocks, the chosen tickle tools are all neatly arranged, and they are all diabolical -- flossers, electric toothbrushes, vibrating hair brushes, spinning scrubbing brushes, chopsticks, empty ball-point pens, and pinwheels.

    “What shall we start with?” Hazel asks. Chelsea doesn’t answer verbally, but she picks up two vibrating hair brushes, hands one of them to Hazel, and turns hers on. As the vibrating sounds fills the room, Astrid can’t help but to tremble and squirm her helpless feet.

    “Good choice!” Hazel says, and both girls start dragging the vibrating sphere-tipped bristles against Astrid’s large, plushy soles.

    “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARG! HAAAAAAAAAA-HAAAAAA-HAAAAAA!” She immediately explodes with hysterical laughter, struggling like a madwoman.

    And so Hazel and Chelsea spend the rest of the day trying to torture their friend out of her infatuation with Hazel, but there’s something they don’t know; a little secret Astrid wisely kept from them. The tickling fetish she developed during her sessions has a hidden facet; she’s usually strictly a ‘tickler’, but if the tickle-torture is delivered by someone she’s in love with, she actually gets a kick out of being the ‘ticklee’. So while Hazel thinks that she’s teaching Astrid a lesson, she’s actually playing right into her fantasy.

    ◄ Hazel 2 ►

    On the next day, Miss Bates decides to have fun with Hazel. The girl fearfully follows her into the dungeon and obediently allows herself to be fitted inside a straitjacket. Bates then leads her to a narrow bondage table, equipped with a most intimidating set of stocks. Hazel grimaces and groans when her boots are removed, then again when her feet are fully secured in the stocks.

    These stocks are designed to hold feet close together with all toes tied back, pushing the insteps back against a comfortable, gel-like surface which completely hugs the tops and sides of the feet, leaving them utterly unable to move even a millimeter.

    Hazel also has her legs cuffed to the table, above and below the knee, giving the choice of whether she sits up or lays on her back. As if this bondage isn’t enough, Sophia forces her to wear a bondage hood which covers her eyes and ears.

    When the bondage is complete, Bates puts on a pair of gloves with small, strong feathers attached to each fingertip, and starts slowly spidering them up and down Hazel’s little soles; the girl goes immediately mental.

    “YAAAAAAAAAARG! HAAAAA-HAAAA-HAAAA-HAAAA!” She screams with laughter, twisting herself on the table like a worm. Unfortunately for her, the one body part which she desperately wants to move cannot do so at all. “PLEEEASE STOOOOAP! AAAAAAARG! HAAA-HAA-HAA-HAAAAAA!”

    Miss Bates smiles evilly and carries on with the feathery dance, watching Hazel’s adorable little feet twitch ever so gently. They’re the world's most ticklish feet, by a huge margin, and they’re her property; hers to torment however she pleases.

    “MEEEERCY! HEEEEEEEEEEEK! HEEEEE-HEEEEEE-HEEEEE-HEEE! I CAAAN’T!” Hazel howls and begs, blind and deaf, struggling mightily, as well as hopelessly, to move her feet.

    Sophia then starts teasing her cute little toe pads, eliciting slightly more noticeable toe twitches, but nothing that can interfere with the feathering; not even remotely. For all practical purposes, Hazel’s soles and toes are completely still.

    “I’LL DO ANYTHING! BWAAAAAAAAAAA-HAHAHAHAAAAAA! NOOOO-HOO-HOOO!” The girl screams with hysterical laughter.

    “Hazel, Hazel, Hazel...” Miss Bates muses, “I paid 50 million dollars for you; it was a bargain. Best money I ever spent. Yup. I would have paid much, much more for you.”

    “HEEEEEEEEEEEEEELP! YEEEEEEAAAARG! HAAAA-HAAAA-HAAA-HAAA!” She cries out, as the feathers playfully flutter up and down her arches.

    “No one’s gonna save you, dear. Not ever. You’re home.”

    ◄ Chelsea 2 ►

    While Sophia enjoys some quality time with Hazel, Astrid has been left in charge of Chelsea. They’re both in the padded cell, with Chelsea secured in a hog-tie with black leather restraints, her big toes cuffed together, and a blindfold covering her eyes.

    “HAAA-HAAA-HAAA-HAAAAA! STOP! HOOO-HOO-HOO-HOOOO! WHY’RE YOU DOING THIS?!” Chelsea cries out, while Astrid scrambles her nails into her paddling soles.

    “Because it’s fun! Tickle, tickle, tickle!”


    “Good thing you’re already in a padded cell, then. Gouchie, gouchie, goo!”

    “YEEEARG! HEEEE-HEEE-HEEE!” Astrid cackles, going through a surge of intense struggling.

    “Woa! Where do you think you’re going? Hahaha! You know what, let’s play a game.” She proposes, pausing the tickling.

    “Hehehehe! What... Game?”

    “I’ll let you go if you can stay still for a while.”

    “For how long?”

    “I don’t have a watch, so for as long as you can take it. If I feel like it’s long enough, I’ll let you go.”

    “No! You can check the time outside!”

    “Nope. You have to stay still for as long as you can. If you don’t like it, I’ll just tickle you all morning.”

    “Oh, come on!”

    “Last chance...” She sings.

    “Okay! Fine!” Chelsea reluctantly agrees.

    “Keep your feet still then.” Astrid says. She frees Sins big toes and starts slowly digging into her sexy feet with her nails.

    “HAAAAAA-HAA-HAA-HAAAAA!” Chelsea bursts out laughing. Her feet are perfectly restful, though.

    “Good girl! Keep it up! Tickle, tickle, tickle...”

    “MRRRRRRRRRRRRG!” Chelsea then groans, fighting the urge to wiggle her feet away.

    “Teehehe! Keep them still! Can you take this?” Astrid taunts, now focusing on her toes.

    “HIIIIIRK! HIIIIIII-HIIIIII-HIIIIII!” Chelsea howls with sharp squeals and laughs, but her ticklish feet are still perfectly relaxed.

    A few minutes go by, slow as molasses from Chelsea’s perspective, fast as a lightning from Astrid’s.

    “Pleeeeeease! HAAAA-HAAAA-HAAAA-HAAA! Let me MOOOOVE! HOOOO-HOO-HO! I HATE THIS SO MUCH!” Chelsea pleads, feeling like she’s losing her mind.

    “Nope. It hasn’t been long enough. Not even close. Wanna quit? That’s fine by me. I’ll just tickle you all morning.”


    “That’s the spirit! Gouchie, gouchie, goo!”


    Astrid tortures Chelsea like this for about two hours, at which point Sophia peeks inside the cell. “Astrid, dear?”

    “Yes, Miss Bates?” She answers, without pausing the game.

    “I need you. Come with me.”

    “Yes, Miss. Should I let her go?”

    “Yes, this will take a few hours.”

    Astrid releases Chelsea’s cuffs then follows Bates into the dungeon.

    ◄ Hazel 3 ►

    When Astrid enters the dungeon, her heart starts beating at the sight of Hazel’s completely helpless soles.

    “You really like her feet, don’t you?” Bates asks.

    “Not just her feet, but yes, they’re incredible.”

    “Do you have a crush on her?”

    Astrid looks away, blushing.

    “That’s a yes. Hehehe! Boy, I’m so glad I bought the three of you!”

    “As am I, Miss Bates.”

    “Hehe! Well, help me with her next torture, then after lunch I’ll leave you in charge of her for the rest of the day. Sounds good?”

    “Yes, please!” Astrid agrees excitedly.

    Hazel is still wearing the sensory deprivation hood, so she has no idea what Sophia and Astrid are preparing for her. However, she’s starting to wonder why so much time has passed since the tickling stopped.

    “Miss?” She hesitantly asks, but instead of a verbal reply, she feels a paint brush slathering her soles with something wet. “AAAAARG! It’s COLD! What the hell is that?!” She cries out.

    Then, she feels something dragging up the edge of her left sole. It happens lighting-quick, feels extremely raspy, like sandpaper; and tickles more than anything she’s ever felt before.

    “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAARG! HA-HA-HA-HA-HAAAAAA!” She squeals, kicking her knees rapidly and shaking her head sideways. “Hahahahaaa! WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?!”

    Before she can compose herself, it happens again, and again, both times on her right heel. “YEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARG! YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK! HE-HE-HE-HE-HEEE! Hehehehehe! STOP! WHAT IS THAT?!”

    Then she remembers that scientist who liked licking her feet... Is that what this is? Is there someone licking her feet? But these licks feel completely different! And so she remembers all the cats roaming the main chamber.


    “She’s figured it out!” Sophie exclaims. The woman is holding back a cat, which appears extremely interested in Hazel’s soles; or rather, in the gooey substance slathered all over them.

    “Do you think I should let it loose?” She asks Astrid with a devilish grin.

    “Please, do!” The girl replies excitedly.

    Miss Bates stops holding the cat, which immediately walks up to Hazel’s right foot and starts greedly licking the substance off her heel. Poor Hazel goes completely nuclear.

    “YEEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAARG! HAAAAAA-HAAAAAA-HAAAAAAA!” She howls hysterically at the top of her lungs. Hazel has felt many ticklish things under her augmented feet, but this one takes the cake. Every single lick feels like a lightning strike of absolute ticklish madness hitting her sole, surging through her nervous system and frying her brain.

    With a titanic effort, fueled by absolute anguish, she suppresses her squeals and instead shouts, “I CAN’T! I CAN’T! I CAN’T! I CAN’T! I CAAAAAAN’T!” desperately trying to make Miss Bates understand that this torment is completely and utterly overloading her.

    But instead of taking the cat away, Sophie says, “Astrid, be a dear and bring the other cats in, will you?”

    Moments later, Hazel’s ticklish agony has multiplied. With six cats hungrily lapping away at her vulnerable, tasty feet, she’s unable to produce even the simplest of thoughts; her mind is entirely occupied with processing the insanely intense and impossibly maddening ticklish sensations being force-fed into her nervous system.

    “YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! HAAAAAAAAAAAAA-HAAAAAAAAA-HAAAAAAA!” She howls at the heavens, convulsing her every muscle, as six raspy tongues lick and lick at her soles, scraping away the tasty liquid -- as well as her sanity.

    “How doesn’t she pass out?” Miss Bates asks, in awe of Hazel’s extreme reactions.

    “The scientists did something to her so she wouldn’t ever pass out.”

    “Interesting... That’s good to know. It means I can go really hard on her if I feel like it.”

    “Erm... Actually... That might not be a good idea, with her feet enhanced the way they are. She may not pass out, but she can still go insane.”

    “Good point. I don’t want to have to send any of you back to the shop for psychiatric care. I’ll leave the worst tortures for you and Chelsea, then.”

    Astrid swallows dryly, but looks down and replies obediently, “Yes, Miss.”


    Hazel’s feet are used as a cat licking toy for two hours, after which Miss Bates takes her leave. Astrid gets rid of the cats, cleans up Hazel’s feet until they’re clean enough to eat off, and removes the bondage hood.

    Hazel is a complete wreck, and her day is not even half-way. She blinks her eyes, then focuses them on Astrid. “Oh no...” She moans with a tired look on her face.

    “Oh yes! Hehehe!”

    “Please let me go... That was horrible...”

    “Oh don’t worry, love. I won’t be as mean to you as Bates was.”

    Astrid picks up a feather duster and sits in front of Hazel’s helpless soles.

    “So, tickles or footgasm?” She asks, smiling sweetly.

    “Oh nooooo! Not again!” Hazel cries out, squirming within her bondage.

    “Haha! Or perhaps, you’d rather have some kisses and nibbles?”

    “I... I... I don’t even know!”

    “Maybe this will help you decide...” Astrid says, wiggling the duster up her right sole.

    As the plumes tease up her gorgeous little foot, Hazel opens her eyes wide with a big forced smile on her lips, and laughs sharply.


    “Tickles, nibbles, or footgasm? Pick your poison, sweetie.”

    “Footgasm! Footgasm! Just stop tickling!” She choses in desperation.

    “Mmmm... But I really feel like tickling you... I’ll just tease you a little bit first, okay?”

    “Nooo! NO MORE!“ Hazel cries out, but it’s hopeless. Before she even finishes the sentence, Astrid starts dusting her soles, and kissing the pads of her toes.

    “NOOOOO! HOOO-HOOOO-HOOOO-HOOO! Pleeeeeease! Heeeee-HE-HE-HE-HEE!” The poor girl howls with laughter.

    ◄ Astrid 2 ►

    Astrid tickled, aroused and cuddled with Hazel for the rest of the day. Halfway through the afternoon, Chelsea tried to rescue Hazel, but Astrid simply asked the guards to lock her up in the padded cell.

    On the next day, a Saturday, Miss Bates summons all three girls to the main chamber.

    “Good morning.”

    “Good morning, Miss Bates.” They reply, almost in perfect unison.

    “Today, I feel like tickling you the tank,” she says, looking at Chelsea.

    “Yes, Miss.” Chelsea replies, staring down at her own slippers.

    “As for you, Hazel, I know you had a really intense day yesterday, so I’m letting you relax all day today. In a little while, we’re going to have two guests; one of which is a nurse from the CIA building. She’s coming to give you a professional massage, minus your feet, of course, and to check on your mental health. Sounds good?”

    “Yes, Miss! Thank you!”

    “You’re welcome. See? I take good care of my girls! Alright then, Chelsea, go use the bathroom, etc, then get in the tank. I’ll be with you shortly. As for you, Astrid, do you need to use the bathroom?”

    “No, Miss.”

    “Then follow me.”

    Astrid follows her into the dungeon, and by Miss Bates’ request, lays down on the same bondage table where Hazel was tickled yesterday. While Bates sets up her toe bondage, Astrid starts wondering who’s going to tickle her.



    “If you’re going to tickle Chelsea, and Hazel’s going to get a massage, who’s going to tickle me? Assuming I’m going to be tickled.”

    “That would be the second guest.”

    “Oh! I forgot about that...”

    After Astrid is completely strapped down, Bates continues explaining, “I know that you’re used to a far more professional type of tickling than anyone here can give you. So today, you’re going to spend the whole day with a specialist.”

    The girl widens her eyes and swallows dryly.

    “I’ll leave you alone, now. She’ll be with you shortly.” With these words, Sophia leaves the dungeon.

    Time slows down to a crawl for Astrid, as she waits for a specialist to come tickle her big, taunt, completely immobilized feet. Suddenly, an Asian girl enters and closes the door. When Astrid sees who she is, she inhales deeply with a fearful expression.

    “Ruby! No! Not you!” She cries out.

    “Hey there!” The Asian girl greets, popping a bubblegum.

    Ruby is a 20-years-old, very slender, 1.7m tall, Chinese-American girl. She has a round face, with gorgeous brown eyes; they’re thin, Asian-shaped, piercing, and deeply feminine. Her short, jet-black hair contrasts beautifully with her flawless, warm-ivory skin tone. Her hands are very elegant, with thin, medium length fingernails, painted in dark-purple. She’s wearing classic Vans sneakers; dark-purple ankle socks; black, tight jeans; a dark-purple tank-top; and a short, black, leather jacket.

    “Not YOU! Anyone but YOU!” Astrid cries out again, now struggling intensely against her bondage.

    “Good to see you too,” Ruby says, sitting down in front of Astrid' feet, which are visibly straining against the toe bondage, “we all miss tickling you in class.”

    “Stay away!”

    “No, I don’t think I will,” she says, raising her wiggling fingernails above the stocks.

    Astrid whimpers and starts begging, “Not your nails! Please! Anything but that! IT’S THE WOOOORST!”

    Ruby is a hugely talented fingernail tickler, and for some reason, her unique style works insanely well on Astrid’s feet; it just gets her nerves in exactly the right way. Of all the students and professional ticklers who practiced on her feet, no one ever got her as badly as Ruby.

    The Asian girl pops her bubblegum and smiles, then gently drags her right hand’s nails down Astrid’s left sole, lending them little scratching motions. The poor girl immediately breaks into uncontrollable laughter.


    “Hehe! I missed these feet. I’m barely doing anything, you know?”

    “Hahaha... I KNOW! I know that very well... GOD! Of all the ticklers, why did they have to send YOU?!”

    “Because of this,” She answers, zig-zagging an index nail down her other sole.

    “YaaaaaaaaAAARG! HA-HA-HA-HAaaaaaa! Please STOP!” Astrid laughs madly, kicking her knees and convulsing her body.

    “Nope. Your Mistress hired me to give your lovely feet a day of utterly excruciating, professional tickle-torture, and that’s exactly what they’re getting.“

    “NO! NONONO! NOOOOOOOOOO! I’LL DO ANYTHING!” Astrid begs in complete desperation, while Ruby cracks her knuckles.

    “By the way, this isn’t going to be a lone visit. Apparently, we got you so used to expert tickling that anything less is almost easy for you to bear. Miss Bates won’t have that, so from now on, I’ll spend every Saturday with you.”

    “NOOOOOOO! NOOOOO! HEEEEEELP! HEEEEEEEEEELP!” Astrid screams in a complete panic.

    “Enough chatting. Time to laugh, my dear.” Ruby says, starting to swirl her nails into the big, helpless soles laid out before her, like a pair of canvases. It only takes her a moment to remember the exact pressure and motions that drive Astrid out of her mind.

    “BWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-HAAAA-HAAAAA-HAAAA-HAAAAAAAA!” She howls with hysterical laughter, losing herself in a raging sea of overwhelmingly intense tickling sensations.

    Moments later, Astrid goes into silent laughter, screaming at the top of her lungs without producing a sound. Ruby pops her bubblegum and pauses the tickling for a second, letting her breathe, then dives right back in, digging her nails into Astrid’s plushy soles.

    ◄ THE EVENT ►

    Over the next couple weeks, not much changes in the girls’ ticklish lifes. Astrid experiences another session with Ruby, and keeps tormenting her ‘girlfriend’ Hazel; who in turn, teams up with Chelsea as often as possible to get back at Astrid.

    One quiet Sunday, Miss Bates summons the girls and orders them to use the bathroom. She then leads them to a wall on the main chamber that has always been covered by a curtain. She opens the curtain, revealing three wall mounts, like those used to display animal heads; except these have two holes each, as well as two little belts above the holes.

    Hazel gasps, immediately understanding what they’re looking at. The other girls only get it after Bates pulls one of the mounts; it slides forward, revealing a drawer similar to a morgue freezer, but with a padded surface and with restraints.

    “Lay down, Astrid.” Sophia orders.

    The girl swallows dryly but obeys. Bates guides her feet through the holes then straps down the girl’s ankles, shins, thighs, wrists, arms, chest, and forehead. She also secures her big toes in place with the little belts.

    “There. All done. Comfy?”

    “Yes, Miss.”

    “Can you move?” Sophia asks, spidering her fingernails up the girl’s soles.

    “YAAAARG! HA-HA-HA-HA!” Astrid laughs out loudly and squirms, but the bondage holds her in place.

    “That’s a no.” Bates says. She then addresses all girls, “Alright then. This was just a test. Later tonight, I‘m going to host a little tickle-party down here, and you’re going to be the entertainment. All you need to know is, you’re going to be locked in these drawers, and the guests are going to tickle your feet however they please.“


    After dinner, the girls are secured in the drawers with their feet sticking out. In an unusual choice of bondage, they all have their mouths strongly gagged. The lack of laughter doesn’t seem to discourage the guests, though, as they incessantly tease their helpless soles with feathers and fingers.

    Poor Hazel, with her tiny, utterly adorable, feather ticklish soles, is regarded as the main attraction, but despite the tickling, she manages to catch bits of the lively conversation outside. She feels like it was a strange decision to muffle their laughter, but she only becomes truly intrigued when she hears Miss Bates lie about their silence.

    “... the drawers are unintentionally soundproofed, unfortunately. That’s why we can’t hear the girls’ laughter, but trust me, they’re laughing plenty. Yes, a speaker system would be a great idea!”

    “She doesn’t want us to talk! But why?” Hazel thinks. Then, as the most probable answer crosses her mind, she opens her eyes wide and screams for help at the top of her lungs, but only manages to produce a groan.

    “The guests don’t know that we’re slaves! That has to be it!” She thinks furiously. ”I need to call for help somehow! But how? What can I do?!”

    For what feels like hours, she simply laughs into the gag, tormented by the thought that a rescuer could be standing just beyond her feet. Then it hits her, “My toes! I can move my toes! Morse code! I can signal SOS with my toes!”

    Easier said than done, though, because of the casual but incessant tickles. With a gargantuan effort, she seizes control over her twitching muscles, and starts opening and closing her toes in a controlled fashion.

    “Down, down, down. Doooooown, doooooown, doooooown. Down, down, down.” She thinks, holding down her toes rhythmically. At that point, someone starts feathering along her toes, making it much harder for her to continue the pattern, but as soon as possible, she starts doing it again, hoping that someone on the other side gets it.


    After a short while, the tickling stops, yet she continues sending out her signal until it becomes clear that everyone is gone. The drawer is then abruptly opened, frightening her.

    “Mrrrrrrrg!” She squeals from the sudden movement. When her eyes adjust to the light, she squeals again, frightened by the sight of Miss Bates looking down over her, with a very serious expression.

    “What, the fuck, was that?!” The woman asks in an angry tone.

    “MRRRRRRRG!” Hazel whimpers in fear and looks away.

    The woman removes the gag then barks, “Well?! Explain yourself!”

    Hazel breaks down into tears and starts blubbering, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

    “You nearly ruined everything! I had to end the party early before anyone else caught on to your little code!”

    “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

    “Not yet, you’re not! GUARDS! BRING Hazel’s BOX!” She shouts.

    Hazel is swiftly transferred to her shipping box. She keeps crying that she’s sorry all the way to the moment when the lid is sealed.


    Many hours later, the box is finally opened. Hazel doesn’t know this, but she actually spent all night locked in. When her eyes adjust to the bright light, she screams at the top of her lungs and goes into a complete frenzy, horrified by the nightmarish sight of the intensive care room.


    She cries out; but despite her pleas and promises, the doctors inject her with a muscular relaxant, transfer her to the bondage chair, and start exfoliating her ridiculously ticklish feet with abrasive, spinning brushes, driving her mad with laughter.


    After her third consecutive day of intensively tickly, sole softening procedures, Hazel is left crying in a padded cell, wearing nothing but a straitjacket.

    “My boooooots! Give me my boooooots! Pleeeeeease! I’ll do anythiiiiing!” She cries out, laying on her stomach with knees bent, and her poor feet in the air.

    One of the scientists then brings her a tablet with an active video-call and leaves it on the floor under her face.

    “Miss Bates! I’m sorry! Please get me out of here!”

    “You look like shit, Hazel. Are you ready to come home?”

    “Yes! I’m ready! Yes! Please bring me home! I’ll be good!”

    “Are you ever going to try calling out for help again? Or escaping?”

    “No! Not ever! I swear! Never again! I swear! I learned my lesson!”

    “You learned your lesson?” The rich woman asks, raising an eyebrow.

    “Yes! I’m so sorry! I had forgotten how bad it is here! I’m so lucky that you bought me! I want to be your tickle-slave! I belong to you! Please let me go home!”

    “Hazel, your punishment hasn't even begun! This is just the preparation.”

    Hazel wobbles her lower lip, then says, “I accept the punishment! Whatever it is I accept it! Just punish me at home! Please! Not here! Please! I beg you!”

    “That’s the plan. I just want you to spend a few more days over there...”

    “MRRRRRRRRRG!” Hazel interrupts, groaning and shaking her head sideways out of sheer frustration. Bates doesn’t seem to mind, though.

    “... to get your feet as pristine as possible for Astrid and me.”

    “Astrid?! Why her?”

    “Because when you come home, she’s going to be in charge of you for a month.”

    Hazel drops her jaw, and loses whatever little color she had on her face.

    “That’s right! For a full month, Astrid is going to do whatever she wants with you, all day, every day, except on Saturday, when she’s with Ruby. I’ll tickle you on Saturdays. And the cats are going to lick their breakfast off your feet every single day!”

    This description leaves Hazel trembling in fear like a reed in the wind. She’s so affected that she doesn’t even notice it when her toes touch the floor.

    “Still eager to come home? To your loving girlfriend? Or would you rather stay there instead?” Sophia mocks her.

    Hazel stutters a few times, but eventually snaps out of it and replies, “I-I-I-I... Yes... Yes! I’ll be her girlfriend! I’ll even make-out with her! Just get me out of here! Please!”

    “Alright then. Two more days of feet pampering, then you can come back.”

    “Yes, Miss Bates! Just... Can you ask them to let me wear my boots, please?” She begs.

    Sophia stares at her thoughtfully for a moment, then answers, “No boots. Not there and not here, for as long as you’re being punished.” And with those words, she hangs up the call.

    “AAAAAAAAAARGH! I’M GONNA GO INSAAAANE!” Hazel cries out, lifting her toes off the floor.


    Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed the story!
    If you like my writing style and creativity, know that I'm open to commissions.
    Contact me if interested.


  2. #2
    Mate fantastic story, a fantastic read and cant wait to read more of your work in the future.

  3. #3
    Join Date
    Jan 2002
    NY City
    Blog Entries
    Fabulous story!
    <== the sacred soles of Goddess Shelly

    A link to my stories on the TMF.

    Buy my first novel "Sorority Sisters" here.

    Order one of my collections of short stories from MTJ Publishing here:

    Order Today!

    עם ישראל חי
    אֶרֶץ יִשְׂרָאֵל חי

  4. #4
    Join Date
    May 2003

  5. #5
    great story

  6. #6
    Join Date
    Sep 2006
    by long and far the most sadistic, most sexy author I had the pleasure to read in years... loved your breaking Natalya story and this one....
    Almost gone bonkers over the whole footgasm idea. soo hot. Just one thing... Any chance to involve some heavy duty teasing/edging/denial somewhere in your stories? Would have loved sweet Hazel forced to beg to have her feet played with so she can cum....

  7. #7
    Join Date
    Mar 2020
    Amazing story. I like it

  8. #8
    Join Date
    May 2003
    Thanks guys! Glad you enjoyed!

    And to Luzifer:
    Thank you so much! Having a footgasm is actually a hyper-rare, real-life medical condition.
    I regularly feature edge and denial in my stories. The 3 stories below all feature it:


  9. #9
    Join Date
    Apr 2011
    Oil Country
    Great toe bondage description.

  10. #10
    Join Date
    May 2003

  11. #11
    Join Date
    Mar 2010
    T H E ♡ W I R E D
    Your stories are so good <3

  12. #12
    Join Date
    May 2003

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