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Alternate storylines could include the possibility that one of these ladies might have accidentally (or on purpose) signed up for a post spa bondage yoga workout (which is apparently a thing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4R9cv35WyY).
The two travelers could have a third companion who has gotten tired of listening to the two of them bicker, and has decided to keep them tied up until they work out their differences.
Or this could be one of those hotels haunted by kinky ghosts, and if the ladies can’t escape by sun up they will by trapped in the ghost realm, and forever at the mercy of bondage obsessed foot molesting spirits.
Another possible story behind these photos is that the young lady is a shallow selfish indulged daughter of a rich man who was vacationing in a remote European country with some peculiar local laws regarding the keeping of young ladies as barefoot captives. This particular Paris Hilton/Nicole Richie style party girl was having a grand night on the town, drinking Champagne, dancing, and then having the greatest winning streak gambling with a mysterious Countess. After winning hundreds of thousands of Euro’s and having no suspicion that she’s being played, the rich girl gets an unusual wager. The Countess looks the party girl in the eye and places a fist sized red gem on the table between them while wagering the rich girl’s freedom against the sparkling jewel (which is of course just a piece of glass).
The party girl was more than a little tipsy, and feeling high on her winning streak. She impulsively accepted the wager. After all, daddy always got her out any trouble. The next thing she knows she is bound and gagged in a harem costume in a castle with cold stone below her bare feet. She can’t believe this is happening, or that her daddy is so fed up with her that he wouldn’t ransom her even if the Countess offered him one. The Countess might even be live streaming the party girl’s humiliation for the world to see. It’s all perfectly legal. This is her life now.
- This reply was modified 3 months ago by Midian258.
This lovely barefoot prisoner might be in this predicament because she fell asleep watching an “I dream of Genie” marathon and is now having a vivid dream of being a poor genie whose lamp was discovered by a naughty Baroness whose first wish was to keep the pretty Genie as a lifelong plaything to keep tied up as a decoration around her castle. If the dreamer dreams deeply enough she may become a permanent resident of the dream lands, a prisoner of her own desires.
In any case, when my fictional barefoot captives get stuck for decades/centuries/forever in dream worlds or ghost realms they always come to love their imprisonment and not only do they remain young and vital indefinitely, every day feels like the first day of their captivity. You wouldn’t want the crushing weight of eternity spoiling the fun.
Our captive here could also be a novice witch who went to a remote corner of the sorcerer’s academy to experiment on her own (maybe this happened to Hermione at Hogwarts). She was trying to magically manipulate a rope when all of a sudden her clothes had transformed into a harem outfit and her wrists were tied in front of her and attached to the ceiling. Cursing herself for daydreaming when she should be concentrating on her magic, she tries to reverse the spell. But since she can’t gesture properly her efforts just result in her being more stringently bound and ballgagged as well. Our witch can’t work magic with her hands bound and her mouth full. She finds her predicament pleasurable, it happened as a result of her daydreaming after all, but she will be terminally embarrassed if she is discovered like this. And her fellow students will take photos of her and tickle her. If only she weren’t so aroused she might be able to think of a way out.
I’ve been admiring the Aria Harem girl dungeon photoset again. I’ve also been admiring pictures of Elizabeth Olsen I’ve gotten from Wikifeet. Elizabeth, Andrea Corr, Jenny Agutter, or Taylor Swift, or any number of lovely famous ladies would be good candidates for a storyline inpired by Aria’s photoset involving a famous entertainer with the worst agent who somehow negotiates a contract that involves her becoming the property of a crazy European Countess who loves collecting famous young ladies to keep barefoot and tied up in her castle when not being walked in chains publicly for the countess subjects to admire. After spending her first night tied in a strapaddo (if a supportive one), where her soft virginal vulnerable feet were pressed against the cold stone floor, the young celebrity is bathed and tended to by servants, before being hogtied and cleave gagged on satin sheets where she waits for the Countess to come and minister to her poor tired feet with massaging fingers, and a loving searching tongue, followed by cruel tickling…
Lately my mind has been dwelling on supernatural narratives like Faith as the Ghost Bride. Part of the appeal of them to me is that they allow for a damsel to be eternally vital and youthful and comfortable while forever bound and gagged without cramping or needing to eat or use a restroom. Aria could could be portraying a celebrity or rich lady who spent the night in the wrong haunted posh hotel that used to be a castle, and spent too much time admiring a certain antique portrait. Now she has been pulled in to a spirit realm of an enchanted past where she will eternally be the young barefoot captive of the foot molesting Mad Countess.
You are more than deserving. It would have been nice to see your shapely feet tied side by side. You have such a nice smile. It serves you well as captor and captive. I look forward to the sari/sarong/whatever story line. Be well.
Taylor Swift rolled around her environment cube, enjoying the sensations of her restraint and mulling over her latest new friend had shared with her. Uma, Charlize, Amanda, and Lynn had all given her glimpses in to her new world, but Tori Amos had shown her wide vistas. And how wonderful it all seemed. So many places and ladies and ways to be tied up. And Tori was so magnificently powerful. An absolute lover of restraint that loved to give as much as receive.
Eventually Taylor’s dreamy musings were interrupted by the information unit declaring that Taylor was nearing the cube of Renee Zellweger and Jodelle Ferland.
“Oh good, new friends”, thought Taylor.
Interesting, each to their own.
“You are aware that this forest is enchanted?” Tori asked Taylor with a tease in her voice, “The faerie sprites like to come out at dusk in this forest. And for some reason they seem fond of tickling helpless women with their wings.”
Tori was being slowly surrounded by tiny flying glowing little people with dragonfly wings. Tori’s tiger print bikini covered almost nothing of her, and the vines that bound her left her quite unable to fend off the advances of the cheeky faeries when they began to advance and tickle her. Glancingly at first, but soon Tori was being tickle attacked by a small swarm of sprites that no amount of wiggling could evade.
Tori Amos bounced slightly at the end of her vine as she squirmed vigorously and laughed without inhibition. Taylor Swift watched, and occasionally a sprite would break off to look at Taylor through the dual glass. Tori was still being tickled when Taylor’s environment cube started to slide away.
“See you later sweetie”, Tori managed to think at Taylor as she slid away, “I promise you”.
Taylor believed her.
Taylor watched the information unit to see Tori tying up both Olsen Twins in front of a public fountain. The twins were facing each other and Tori used some knobs on the bench-like rectangular block of stone to tie the twins directly to the stone as well as on it in a hogtie position. Except the twins bound ankles were not attached to their own wrists. Instead each sisters feet were connected the other sisters feet. So that when one sister tried to unbend her legs she pulled on her sisters feet so as to bend her legs further. The twins lifted their faces to look each other in the eye as they engaged in a kind of tug of war, laughing over their cleave gags.
One sister was dressed in an elegant light blue dress, the other in jeans and a sweater. Both were barefoot having removed their shoes to go wading. When the sisters began to tire of pulling back and forth they started to let the position of their bent legs settle in to a kind of equilibrium. Then Tori began to play with the feet of one or both of the twins. Tickling them, which of course resulted in more pulling on the sisters’ mutual ankle rope. Both Olsen’s cute little feet were quite sensitive and prone to squealing when tickled too much. The sight of the three of them made Taylor laugh in to her ballgag.
“Looks like fun doesn’t it?”, Tori asked Taylor enticingly.
“I arranged to have this visit with you because I wanted to see and talk to you when I heard you had arrived”, Tori told Taylor, “I want to get my hands on you. I want to tie you up and tickle those perfect feet of yours until you think you will explode. And I get what I want.”
Taylor squirmed involuntarily. Tori smiled evilly. Then the sprites began to arrive.
“And that was all before I got time spliced for the first time”, Tori continued, “After I came to the Goddess’ universe I’ve had a chance to tie and be tied by many other priestesses.”
Taylor got to watch on the information unit Tori Amos hogtying a barefoot sky blue bikini clad Jessica Alba on a towel on a tropical beach. Jessica’s smiling lips were visible beneath a strip of sky blue tape.
Taylor got to watch Tori take Virginia Madsen on a picnic in a mossy meadow with a basket full of rope and tape. Virginia more a simple but elegant yellow dress that complimented the golden rope she was hogtied with and the yellow tape she was gagged with. Tori massaged and played with Virginia’s bare feet until she was nearly blissfully falling asleep. Then Tori woke Virginia with ticking that jolted her wide awake, and soon had her quivering with helpless muffled laughter.
Taylor got to see Tori hogtied and cleave gagged side by side with Mary Louise Parker on a big four poster bed, both of them barefoot in lingerie as the two of them did their best to tickle and kiss each other.
Taylor listened and watched as Tori reminisced about how submissive Amy Grant was, and how ticklish her feet were; about how much Andrea Corr liked being tied up in the woods, sometimes standing barefoot on mossy ground tied in a modest strapado position, purple ballgag peeking from between her lips, eyes twinkling merrily; and about how much Laura Brannigan liked rolling around struggling barefoot in tight leather pants; and about how much fun the barefoot Joss Stone and Jewel had playing footsie balltied and cleave gagged, and how Jewel insisted that Tori take a turn playing footsie with Joss in a ball tie and tape gag of her own and, Joss naturally deciding that Jewel get tied up in those jeans of hers again to keep Tori company for a time; about how Lisa Loeb took quite a shine to playing with a captive Tori’s feet as well. All of which Taylor got to watch on the information unit view screen.
The helplessly impressive Tori Amos continued to tell the hogtied and ballgagged Taylor Swift about how she came to be the potent shamaness that she is.
“I was always a willfully barefoot child”, said the fire haired singer, “which annoyed some of the adults around me to no end. Worse, having the forceful personality that I do, I was always getting the other girls my age to play barefoot games.”
“After I came across an image of Joan of Arc bound to a stake awaiting her burning I just had to feel what being tied up felt like. It was little trouble to convince a friend to lash me to a post. The feeling was exhilarating. I loved it. And I just knew I had to share this discovery. I found that it was almost as much fun tying up other girls as it was being tied up. With my forceful personality I rarely lacked for playmates to play tie up games with, and girls that had a problem being barefoot and tied up learned to stay away.”
“Even before I was first time spliced in to the Captive Goddess’ universe my enthusiasm for restraint and penchant for introducing other ladies to it allowed the Captive Goddess to commune with me in dreams. When I began to travel the world as a musician I encountered many other lovely lady singers that I could usually convince to spend some time in restraint. Some needed little convincing.”
“Natalie Merchant was more than happy to be bound and gagged with scarves”, Tori reminisced while Taylor got a view on her information unit of Natalie Merchant barefoot wearing a gypsy like dress, hogtied with scarves on a bed, her mouth was covered as well, but Taylor could tell she was smiling underneath as Tori played with Natalie’s feet.
“And I’m pretty sure I’m not the first person to tie up Andrea Corr. She liked it a little too much to be a first timer”, Tori continued while Taylor watched a happy hogtied Andrea Corr rolling around a bed barefoot in a purple dress, bound with purple rope, and gagged with a strip of Purple tape which all complimented each other nicely.
“Laura Brannigan was eager to recreate her kidnapping from Automan without those cute boots she wore on TV”, Tori said with appropriate visuals for Taylor.
“And Carly Simon was quite game. God she had a huge smile that no gag could contain. Of course I still tried. Lisa Loeb took a little convincing, but took to it more than happily once we got started. And I’m not sure anyone likes having her feet played with more” Tori enthused getting lost in her memories while Taylor watched the montage of happy captives Tori was describing.
“Amy Grant took some convincing, but I can be convincing, and she’s an obedient sort. I’m not sure she’d had anyone play with her feet or tickle them for a long time before. I think that was as much of a new thing to her as was the restraint”, Tori mused while Taylor watched a very barefoot and tightly hogtied Amy Grant stare ahead wide eyed as Tori kissed her feet.
“Once in a hotel I was just finishing ball tying and cleave gagging Jewel when Joss Stone walked in us accidentally. She was very curious and took no coaxing to get tied up in ropes alongside Jewel. I’m not sure who had more fun that night.”
Taylor admired the sight of Tori arranging her captives so they could play footsie.
A tied up Taylor Swift was staring in awe at the sight of the dangling tied up Tori Amos whose environment cube seemed to contain an entire enchanted forest. Tori looked slyly at Taylor and said “How do you like this tiger stripe bikini I’m sporting?”, Tori telepathically asked,” I always wanted to be Sheena of the Jungle after I got a hold of some jungle action comics as a child.”
“Hello”, Taylor telepathically replied a little timidly. Tori eyed Taylor a little hungrily. Taylor had been imagining about being confined and having her feet played with and tickled, and she could sense that Tori was a woman who was just the person to do it.
“As you may have noticed, my cube isn’t just a well decorated box with a pretty helpless lady in it”, Tori continued, ” but a temporary portal to the world I am currently restrained on. Of course, I have been time spliced many times, and there may be another incarnation of me in the next cube you slide by.”
“I don’t want to brag”, Tori said with a slight gagged smile that indicated she did, “but I have attained levels of sensation and pleasure in the Captive Goddess’ universe that enable me to manifest great magic. Like creating dimensional gates and bi-locating. I could even use telekinesis to tickle you silly (Tori telekinetically tickled Taylor just a once to make her point) but I won’t. When I tickle you it will be in person.”
“I just wanted to come by and greet you while a hang around here. I’m being slowly pulled upwards towards some unknown destination. I’ve been hanging here for months as it happens. The constant tug of my weight keeps these vines around me taught and tight. And that a little bit of my weight is supported by my crotch rope makes it all the sweeter.”
Taylor looked at Tori’s confining vines, and sure enough, a double length stretched between her legs.
“Don’t be scared sweetie”, Tori advised, “The intensity of sensation and pleasure translates in to power.”
Taylor couldn’t deny the aura of confident power that Tori exuded. She could feel how Tori’s presence was helping the forest thrive. She was in a realm where greater vulnerability equaled greater power. And pleasure.
Taylor had never had a chance to meet Tori Amos, but she admired her music, even if she seemed, well strange. When Taylor’s cube slid in front of Tori’s, she was amazed. The interior of Tori’s cube seemed to lack any floor ceiling or walls, and presented Taylor with a glimpse of what looked like some sort of enchanted rain forest. Gigantic trees stretched towards the forest floor and the rain forest sky so far the Taylor could see neither. Strange and beautiful plants and fungi thrived amidst the tree trunks and branches.
The witchy fiery red haired Tori dangled a few feet away from the window to Taylor’s cube. She was dressed in a skimpy tiger stripe bikini like a Tarzan style jungle girl and suspended from vines that held and bound Tori in something of a slightly forward leaning kneeling position. Tori’s hands were held behind her in something of a box tie by vines that formed a kind of harness. Tori’s legs were bound above the knee and ankle, her knees fully bent and bound so her ankles were tied directly to her thighs. Tori wore a tight green cloth cleave gag, and her big toes were tightly tied together. She looked like she had been bound in a kneeling position and then impossibly hoisted into the air by some means too high up for Taylor to discern.
Despite, or maybe because of her great helplessness, Tori exuded an aura of radiant power that Taylor found instinctively intimidating. She had no doubt that she was in the presence of a powerful priestess or shamaness. Tori showed no fear despite being dangled at least hundreds of feet in the air. She had look of someone in the middle of a long fulfilling workout that had pushed through fatigue into a semi-euphoric state. Tori turned to Taylor and said, “Hello, there sweetie, you look good enough to eat”
Taylor Swift again had time to reflect and explore the contours of her captivity. The frustration of her bodies natural inclination to move was becoming more and more delicious to her in a way she couldn’t begin to explain. She couldn’t stop trying to unbend her knees, or stop trying to pluck the ballgag from her mouth. But the confining ropes holding her in a hogtie could not be overcome, circumvented, intimidated, bargained with, or pleaded with. They were there to keep Taylor tied up, and that is what they would do. Like a force of nature.
Her captivity was something a part of her felt she couldn’t stand, but a larger part was feeling she couldn’t live without. Each encounter with Uma, Charlize, Amanda, and Lynn had filled her with an ever greater feeling of being held by a loving force she was blessed to have caught the attention of.
More and more she wanted to touch and hold the other captives. She wanted to feel what it was like to be tied up by Uma, and she wanted to know what it would be like to be a captive nuzzling feet alongside Charlize or Amanda, and she wanted to tie up Lynn and play with her soft feet. She wanted to touch, tickle, and kiss the bare feet of a captive lady. And Goddess help her, Taylor wanted to have her own helpless feet played with by a naughty lady that would kiss, tickle, and tease them until she was ready to scream. Taylor rolled and twisted while awaiting her next stop, and soon the information box’ voice informed her that she was approaching the cube of Tori Amos.
The next segment involves a singer named Tori Amos who is a talented and creative singer as well as being breathtakingly lovely. She appeared barefoot in several photo’s in her early CD’s including the covers, and she’s also a bit kinky. She’s on record as having at least “experimented” with sadomasochism, which she said can be intoxicating (or maybe it was addicting). She spends the entirety of one of her videos running barefoot with her hands tied behind her back through the woods fleeing a kidnapper, and wears a blindfold for half of it. It’s so sexually charged the first time I saw it I wondered if Tori had made a mistake and sent MTV a personal video she made for her husband instead of the music video she was supposed to send.
Tori has a powerful and witchy demeanor which is very seductive. This combined with her real life kinkiness makes her a natural ringleader for tie up games played among the ladies in my mind, as well as a powerful priestess of the Captive Goddess. Please do look up barefoot photos of her. I wish I could post mine here.December 2, 2016 at 12:05 in reply to: Catt and Alexa as Business Girls: Comments and story extention #27157
Catt’s presence helped calm Alexa some, but this taste of real helplessness left her just wanting to be free now that she was done playing, and she could find no further fun in her confinement.
Catt on the other hand was, if anything, even more aroused than before. The cold steel against her soft skin felt all the more rigid by virtue of their being genuinely inescapable without a key. Catt imagined that the cuffs were solid loops with no unlocking mechanism or keyhole. Somehow the idea thrilled Catt more than it scared her. All the repressed thoughts and desires her puritanical upbringing had held in check started to bubble up to the surface.
Catt imagined that she had been left as a sacrifice to some unknown monster, and that she was an innocent suspected witch awaiting trial. She also imagined being a naughty girl who’d gotten caught shoplifting and was now hog-chained and tape gagged in a display window at the front of the store where she served as an example and warning, as well as showing off some of the stores trendier fashions.
Catt pictured herself tied to a stake on the beach of a tropical island, and chained to the wall of a dragon’s cave. In all of her fantasies Catt imagined herself barefoot regardless of whatever else she was wearing. The additional vulnerability and sensations of shoelessness seemed like an indispensable part of the experience of restraint.
Catt and Alexa eventually drifted off to sleep and were noticeably stiff in the morning. Alexa was desperate for cleaning to come and release them. Catt was more patient. When a maid did arrive she ascertained with a glance what had happened. The maid smirked and pulled out a cell phone. Soon other members of the cleaning staff showed up with some professional grade cameras and even some portable lighting. The head maid explained to the two captives that they were about to become internet models, and if they objected then everyone in their smart phone’s contact list would be sent copies of every photo and video they took of the helpless ladies.
Alexa just gave up went limp, waiting for it to be over, but Catt looked on at the proceedings with curiosity and excitement at having been caught and being seen as the tied up naughty girl she was. After an hour or so of filming Alexa was released and staggered away without her shoes or luggage. She had been a disappointing subject. But Catt took to being photographed. She starting pointing her feet to show them off without being asked, and she managed to affect many expressions past her tape ranging from surprise, to laughter, to fear, to sly seductiveness. It turned out she loved being admired and recorded in her captivity.
Finally the head maid removes Catt’s tape gag and asks if she’s like a job as a bondage model. After having to explain that Catt could get paid to get tied up and photographed to the incredulous Catt, she got a resounding, “Yes”, for an answer on one condition: that she get to pose barefoot.
Within a few months Catt is “working as a resident barefoot captive of an international bondage photographer and lived happily ever after.
There, that’s how my mind can run with a photoset that catches my eye.
Lynn’s eye’s teared as she remembered the loss of her friend. She told Taylor that most dimensionally spliced priestesses of the Captive Goddess had lives they could be proud of, but Lynn felt like being a helpless pretty captive conduit of a higher power was all she was good for, and that confined as she was she couldn’t do more damage. Lynn looked so dejected; gazing down, wrists cable tied to the side of her ankles in the back of a van.
Taylor summoned up all the assertiveness she’d learned from dealing with music industry creeps and told Lynn, “Look at me!”
A somewhat surprised Lynn did so. Taylor reminded Lynn of all the devotion she had inspired. Lynn had insisted that it was the Captive Goddess and not herself that inspired so much devotion, but Taylor now insistently disagreed, and asked Lynn just why she was so consumed with grief. The answer was love. If she didn’t love her friend so much she wouldn’t be is so much pain because of her loss. That love beneath her sorrow was why whole planets were devoted to worship of the Captive Goddess via her Sorrowful Priestess Lynn.
“Love is your defining characteristic, not a mistake you made decades ago after being neglected and then pressured by your parents.”, Taylor told Lynn, “You said yourself you need discipline. One day I will give some discipline personally, but for now I am giving you some commands.”
Lynn was looking up at Taylor, happiness starting to show through her grief. Taylor continued, “Before I get the chance to tie you up and tickle you myself, I want you to do two things. One, stay barefoot. Two, stay tied up. I realize that likely you would do both of these things whether you wanted to or not, but now you will do them because I tell you to.”
Lynn looked at Taylor with love in her eye’s, “Many other priestesses of the Captive Goddess have tried to comfort me, but none have reached me the way your words have. And now for the first time in decades I am barefoot and tied up because a friend demands it.”
Taylor could telepathically feel the relief and happiness Lynn was feeling. And the two proceeded to laugh, and chat, and struggle, and share memories like two happy prisoners should. They even watched Phase 4 together. Eventually Taylor’s environmental cube began to move again, taking her away from Lynn whom Taylor ached to embrace, and vowed to see again, even if she wasn’t sure how. Lynn was left happier than she had been since she was a child.
Taylor quivered sympathetically as Lynn continued to telepathically share the story of how her teenage friend initiated her into the realms of barefoot restraint. Yoshiko was tickling Lynn out of her mind. Lynn laughed and yelled in to her cloth gag. She squirmed and struggled, but Yoshiko held onto the rope keeping Lynn hogtied and used it like a leash to keep Lynn’s vulnerable feet right where she wanted them.
Then Yoshiko stopped her tickling, and nuzzled the tops of Lynn’s feet with her cheek again. Yoshiko then began to softly kiss Lynn’s left foot near her first toe cleft. Yoshiko proceeded to use her lips, tongue, and teeth to explore the tops and bottoms of both of Lynn’s feet. Yoshiko applied massaging pressure with her hands as she kissed Lynn’s feet, and occasionally stopped to tickle her just a little.
Lynn had never felt so safe, so loved, or so aflame with pleasure. Lynn realized Yoshiko was making love to her through her feet. That a woman’s feet could be orgasmic organs was another new thing Yoshiko was teaching Lynn. When Yoshiko finished Lynn was spent as she never had been.
Yoshiko’s mother was frequently away. And Lynn’s parents cared little about her as long as her grades were maintained. This gave Yoshiko and Lynn a lot of time to be alone, and Lynn spent much time tied up, even if the two of them were just watching a movie or indulging in giggly girl talk. But when Lynn would start to be bitchy she would be quickly subdued and bound with scratchy hemp rope or heavy tape. On one occasion Lynn learned that Yoshiko owned at least three pairs of handcuffs when she found herself in a hogtie position with handcuffs locked on her wrists and ankles which were connected by a third pair. Lynn learned what a ballgag was that day as well.
For the next four years Lynn and Yoshiko were inseparable, but in their small town that caused people to talk. And Lynn allowed her parents to pressure her into going away to college without telling Yoshiko. Lynn regretted it, but when she came home for a vacation she found Yoshiko had moved as well.
Heartbroken beyond words Lynn went on to a minor acting career and, and after she spliced into the Captive Goddess’ galaxy, marriages to several famous men. None of whom understood her need for discipline and expected her to just behave. The Lynn that remained on Earth came to an early sad end, and the Lynn in the Captive Goddess realm never forgave herself for cowardly leaving Yoshiko.
The second above is available. Oops.
I’m a member again. These are the sets that aren’t available:
Yoshiko sat down on the bed behind Lynn and regarded her captives helpless feet, and talked to her prisoner, “There is a tragic tradition of developmental deformation of girls feet as they grow in Asia. But there is a counter tradition that holds that a natural woman’s foot is the loveliest and most holy sight that there is.”
Yoshiko paused and decided to tie Lynn’s two big toes together with a ribbon before holding Lynn’s feet pointed so she could apply the polish.
“Hold your toes completely still”, Yoshiko admonished Lynn who was giggling girlishly into her gag at the sheer incongruity of what was happening. She was bound and gagged and helpless for the second time in two days. And She had just agreed to be her strange best friends barefoot tie up toy. And as strange as it all was it felt perfectly right, that she was finally where she belonged. And now her wonderful forceful friend was going to paint her nails for her, as if Lynn was a rich woman, and Yoshiko was her servant.
As she painted Lynn’s toes Yoshiko spoke to her prisoner again, “Don’t get me wrong, you can be a righteous bitch and get away with murder with that innocent demeanor of yours, but you are a nicer and better person than you think. Like many western girls nowadays your parents failed to provide you with discipline. I can give you that.”
As she continued to carefully paint Lynn’s toes and chat with her captive, “You may be wondering where I learned so much about confinement and the proper treatment of a girls feet. My mother, whom my father divorced right after I was born, is very strict and eccentric woman, even by Japanese standards. She used restraint as both a punishment and reward with her children. Sometimes at the same time, as I have been doing with you. My two older sisters had been taking out their pent up frustrations of living with my mother out on each other, usually by tying each other up. But when I grew old enough that my mother no longer shielded me my sisters united in making me the object of both their cruelty and their playfulness. I spent my whole 12th birthday hogtied not just on but to the dining room table, having my feet tickled whenever someone walked passed.”
“How awful”, Lynn mmmmphed, unintelligibly.
“It wasn’t awful, it was one of the best days of my life”, Yoshiko replied, and commenced to blow on the blue polish adorning Lynn’s toenails to help it dry.
When the polish dried Yoshiko rubbed some herbal oil on Lynn’s feet and commenced to massage it in. When Lynn’s feet were dry Yoshiko put her small cheek against the top of Lynn’s left foot and nuzzled her face against her helpless friends foot an endless passage of time that Lynn almost swooned in. Then Yoshiko tickled Lynn. Just a tiny bit. But it made Lynn’s innocent eyes shoot wide open. Then Yoshiko tickled Lynn a little more, and a little more. She let her fingers flit across her friends feet like butterfly wings in between occasional unpredictable deep or prolonged digs with her fingers into Lynn’s soft soles.
Lynn’s restraint, her helplessness, and the inescapable relentless tickling all combined to render Lynn nearly incapable of thought as Yoshiko shared some of what her mother and her sisters had taught her about the care of a woman’s holy feet.
When she was ready Lynn climbed down and savored the sensation of the grass and the paving stones beneath her feet. Yoshiko had prepared her a little something to eat. Yoshiko suggested that a still very tired Lynn take a nap, and then a shower. After drying her hair. Lynn emerged from the bathroom to find her clothes missing.
As if on cue Yoshiko walked in and presented Lynn with a striking silk sky blue kimono embroidered with cherry blossoms which she draped around Lynn’s shoulders and guided Lynn’s arms into and tied the sash around her waist.
“It’s beautiful”, Lynn said as she felt the silk surround her. Yoshiko smiled and said, “It’s yours, but it’s not all you’re wearing”, as she proceeded to take and bind Lynn’s wrists and arms behind her back in a box tie position. Lynn had expected her friend to tie her up again, but not so soon. What could she be being punished for now?
But Lynn quickly realized that she was not being punished. The soft cotton rope being used to restrain her now was being applied like wrapping on a precious gift. Lynn gasped at the pleasurable sensations that were resulting from the twin embrace of the silk kimono and the cotton rope.
When Lynn’s arms and hands were gently but firmly secured behind her Lynn was guided over to Yoshiko’s bed to sit while her legs were restrained at the knee and ankle. Lynn’s legs were lifted up on the bed and Lynn was rolled over on her stomach where her knees were bent and her ankles were attached to her wrists in a neat secure hogtie. Yoshiko pushed a wadded piece of cloth in to the gasping mouth of her friend.
“Let’s see what we can do about that wicked little mouth of yours”, Yoshiko said as she tied a silk scarf over Lynn’s lips to finish gagging her. Lynn could feel Yoshiko’s eye’s surveying her body and it’s confinement. It made her feel warm inside. She snuggled into her ropes and moaned lightly.
Lynn was startled by Yoshiko’s voice demanding, “Look at me!”
Lynn twisted her neck to behold Yoshiko standing before her in her own black kimono embroidered with red dragons and holding a samurai sword. Yoshiko’s short stature almost made her look ridiculous, but her expression and posture signaled she was not to be trifled with. She unsheathed the sword and held the tip of the blade in front of Lynn’s face and told her sternly, “In old Japan a samurai was free to do what he wished with a someone who betrayed them. They could kill them, free them, or claim their life. Do you understand?”
Lynn nodded and grunted earnestly. Yoshiko continued, “I claim your life. You are mine to do with as I please. You will do what I tell you. Do you understand?”
More earnest nodding. The small samurai continued, “I will tie you up to punish you, and to reward you, or if I just feel like doing it. When in my presence, here or elsewhere, you will be barefoot. I will often be as well, but I will be barefoot by choice. You will be barefoot because I’m telling you to be barefoot. Do you understand?
Lynn nodded and grunted again. Yoshiko sheathed the sword to Lynn’s relief and smiled. Yoshiko put down the sword and picked up a bottle of blue nail polish that matched her blue kimono.
Throughout her reveries Lynn went back to the idea that she was a bad girl who needed to be punished, and now she was. But the punishment she deserved was also a gift she didn’t deserve. She was grateful for both. Lynn imagined herself being marched naked in chains before jeering crowds, or tied up and gagged kneeling barefoot on a pedestal in public with her crimes described on a placard beneath her. Lynn’s captivity felt more right to her than anything ever had. Oh Yoshiko.
Lynn’s excitement eventually gave way to exhaustion. She finally relaxed into a peaceful sleep filled with dreams of confinement. Lynn awoke at dawn, thirsty, hungry, slightly damp from condensation, a bit stiff, and quite ready to be released. Surely Yoshiko would let her go soon. Lynn was awake long enough to just start worrying about how much of the day she would spend tied up before she heard Yoshiko approach and climb the tree.
Lynn became very nervous. Would her friend forgive her? Could she express all she felt? Lynn was lying on her side away from the ladder. Her heart beat faster as Yoshiko rolled Lynn into an upright posture. Lynn kept her eye’s shamefully downcast before Yoshiko lifted her chin to look her in the eye. Yoshiko didn’t look angry, but did look stern and stone-like indifferent, which scared Lynn in it’s own way.
As Taylor watched the information unit her heart melted at the sight of the young Lynn’s contrite red from tears eyes looking pleadingly up at the friend she was afraid to lose. Then Taylor got to watch Yoshiko’s expression soften. She said, “I forgive you”, and smiled slightly as she reached into her basket and withdrew an herbal oil mixture that she applied to Lynn’s gag which neutralized the industrial grade adhesive, allowing the tape to be removed without tearing her skin. Lynn burst into tears again, leaned against her friend, sobbing the words, “I’m sorry”, and “Thank you”, over and over again. Yoshiko held Lynn and said softly, “I know, I know.”
Yoshiko gave Lynn some water, not letting her gulp. Then Yoshiko used the herbal oils and a box cutter to free Lynn who stretched out limply. Yoshiko massaged Lynn’s limbs to ease the stiffness. When she was able Lynn reached over and took a hold of Yoshiko’s conveniently bare foot and kissed it repeatedly, saying “I love you” as she did. Yoshiko smiled and said, “I know”. Lynn looked up and said, “I can’t believe you can forgive me for being so awful. I’ll do it again. It’s who I am”. Lynn looked down dejectedly again.
Yoshiko lifted Lynn’s chin again and said, “Then I’ll just have to tie you up again. You just lack discipline, and we Japanese know all about discipline. Including how to make it fun. I knew you would be receptive and what you needed.”
“Tie me up all you need to, just don’t reject me when I’m mean. Gag my mouth when I say awful things. It’s what I need.” Yoshiko embraced Lynn with strong small arms as Lynn wept with joy. Yoshiko repeated reassuringly, “I know”.
Taylor Listened with rapt attention to Lynn’s story, and the information unit translated Lynn’s thoughts with an intensity that almost made Taylor feel like the memories were her own. That she was the bad little girl that was tied up and alone outside in her friends treehouse at night.
Fortunately it had been a Summer night, and the exertion and position of Lynn’s confinement provided it’s own warmth. Lynn continues to nuzzle her bare feet for warmth and for the pleasure of it. She had always been a barefoot girl, disliking the suffocating feeling that shoes gave her, preferring revealing sandals when shoes were mandatory, and enjoying the feeling of her bare feet against what she walked upon.
But now as Lynn listened to the sounds of the night, and she had no choice but to be barefoot in her captivity, the sensations emanating from her confined feet were multiplied and magnified. As if the nakedness of her feet exemplified the thrilling vulnerability of being left tied up as she had been.
Lynn would rock back and forth occasionally, shaking her head to get her long straight brown hair out of her face when she needed to. Her whole body was filled with the rebounding tension of her tight confinement with her hands taped to her smooth feet. She listened to the night animals of her friend’s parents large estate. No one knew she was here, and both of their parents were on vacation for the week. She was all alone in her captivity.
Lynn could hear sounds of distant traffic, and she thought of the people in the cars who would surely rescue her if they only knew of the peril she was in, but the only one who would be coming to her rescue was her captor. How Lynn longed to tell Yoshiko she was sorry and how much she loved her. Lynn moaned a little over her tape.
Like many little girls Lynn had daydreamed about what it would be like to be a captive princess with no choice but to wait for a rescuer. When watching a tied up lady on TV she had sometimes wondered what it would feel like to be a helpless tied up captive. Now she knew. And it was exciting. Alone in the dark of the night with her thoughts and her restraints, Lynn became more and more convinced that Yoshiko knew exactly what she was doing. She certainly tied her up with a quickness and efficiency that suggested she’d done this sort of thing before. Lynn wondered where she learned to do this. Was it part of her martial arts training?
Beyond that Lynn was becoming increasingly convinced that Yoshiko knew how much Lynn needed this discipline, and that she also knew what pleasures were to be had by a barefoot captive such as herself. Lynn’s mind wandered through all the girlish damsel in distress daydreams she’d ever had as she tugged lightly at her tape in this absurd scrunched position that just heightened the sensations of her barefoot confinement. She was so grateful to Yoshiko. She wanted to kiss her.
Taylor watched the scene play out as Lynn telepathically told Taylor of here first experience as a captive. Dressed in jeans and a white shirt (like in Phase 4) Lynn lay on her back like a turtle. She was scrunched up in a ball with her knees to her chest. Her slender wrists were tied together with heavy black industrial tape, which in turn were taped to the back of her small ankles, which were naturally taped tightly to keep her perfectly shaped little bare feet held side by side. A last strip of tape sealed her lips.
Lynn was so stunned by the swiftness of her unexpected capture she she simply laid on her back on the floor of the tree house trying to process what had happened. She had hurt her friend. And for once in her life she was paying a price for her misbehavior. Lynn tugged on her restraints, but she was clearly hopelessly trapped. Rolling on her side she tried to rub her cheek against the floor to remove her gag, but that was impossible unless she wanted to seriously abrade her face. And there was no one who could hear her up here if she succeeded.
Lynn was awash in conflicting emotions. She’d hurt her friend. Badly. Yoshiko’s cold fury told of the depth of her pain. Lynn’s eye’s welled up with tears at the thought, and her inability to beg forgiveness immediately. Lynn felt a deep sorrow for all the other mean things she’s done and gotten away with. She reflexively and futilely pulled at the tape that embraced her. She wanted so much to beg Yoshiko’s forgiveness. Lynn sobbed quietly beneath her tape gag. Her feet began to feel cold in the cool of the late afternoon.
Lynn’s barefootedness had always been a matter of comfort and sometimes a passive-aggressive refusal to do what was expected of her. But now as a prisoner with no choice, her barefootedness made her feel vulnerable and punished. And although almost frustrated out of her mind by the tape that held her captive, there was an inescapable sensation of being finally held accountable.
Lynn’s meanness had always been born of a lack of boundaries, and a desire to push until she found one. Now she unexpectedly had. And beneath her regret and contrition, there was an undeniable thrill, emotionally and physically to have finally encountered a boundary, even one as strange as this.
In an odd sense Lynn felt like being punished in this way by her righteously angry friend absolved her of her wrong doing. A kind of penance. As angry as Yoshiko was, Lynn felt like her confinement amounted to a kind of forgiveness. Instead of casting her away, Yoshiko had embraced her, making Lynn feel held, and cared for, and loved as she never had been. Tears of happiness joined those of regret.
Lynn pulled and twisted at the tape, wishing to hold her friend, and say she was sorry, and tell her she loved her; and while she tugged at her tape the physical thrill of her confinement crept through her body and seeped into her consciousness. Until she realized she wasn’t just struggling instinctively to escape, but to increase the thrill of her captivity. She was suddenly awash with physical excitement mixing with regret, relief, and love. Lynn wished she could touch herself. Her hands were so close. The frustration enhanced the desire.
It was getting dark now. Lynn wondered just how long Yoshiko would leave her alone. She wouldn’t leave her out here all night would she? Lynn wanted so much to embrace her friend, she was so impatient. But darkness fell, and Lynn remained alone and tightly balltaped. She eventually resigned herself to the fact that her penance seemed to involve spending the night a tied up captive, and she began to thrill to idea. Surely Yoshiko would forgive her after spending all night tied up outside barefoot. And how many girls could say they spent a night tied up in a tree house. Lynn rubbed her lovely feet together for warmth and for the pleasure of the sensation. There was little else she could do.
Taylor admired the the way her fellow captives perfect feet and small hands were bound and connected directly by two small plastic strips which looked like would hurt were they not under the influence of the Captive Goddess, while Lynn told her how she became a natural captive even before becoming a captive priestess.
As a child she was usually barefoot when the opportunity arose. Unfortunately she was often a manipulative bitch as well. But she could get by on being beautiful and sweet looking. Another member of her circle of friends was a Japanese girl named Yushiko. Yushiko was often barefoot herself. She was a small girl, but she had a fierce personality, and was the nominal leader of the group. When Lynn was 14 she was up in a tree house in Yushiko’s backyard when both of their parents were out of town for a week. While chatting Lynn accidentally let slip that she had betrayed a major confidence of Yushuko’s.
Yushiko glared furiously at Lynn like an angry Samurai for several moments before seizing a roll of industrial grade duct tape left over from the tree house’ construction, and then seized Lynn with the deftness of a Judo expert. Before Lynn could protest or try to apologize Yushiko had taped Lynn’s little hands together and to the back of her ankles in a scrunched forward balltie (reference Delta’s Replacement TV photoset). Lynn was speechless. And she remained speechless when Yushiko smartly planted a rectangle of tape over Lynn’s innocent looking lips. Then without a word or a pause Yushiko turned her back and climbed down the tree house ladder. Lynn heard her betrayed friend walk away, bare foot steps getting quieter before disappearing inside her house, leaving Lynn very alone.
I’l probably be a member again and see what I can get. These are the sets that I still have bookmarks for. This will make requests easier to process: