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My current writing streak has gone in to “Riona Cyan Dress and cuffs backstory” which has some elements of this piece.
Riona delights in Lisbeth’s helplessness. Riona’s breath draws faster when Lisbeth’s toes are tied. The sensation is so intense, and Lisbeth can barely rub her feet together for comfort. Lisbeth hangs her head again and sobs quietly to herself. She sees what a foolish and frivolous girl she’s been. And she has let herself be manipulated and trapped. She dangles helplessly in a web of rope that supports and confines her. A ballgag fills her mouth, and even her toes are now tied up. Lisbeth is the prisoner of a powerful and likely ancient sorceress. Lisbeth exists as a living trophy and piece of artwork. And even more upsetting, plaything. Tied up, barefoot, and ticklish is what the enchantress said she wanted Lisbeth to be. And Lisbeth was very much all three.
The crying captive involuntarily pulls at her restraints, though all it does is slightly tighten her ropes. No one can help her, and there is nothing she could do to stop Sara the sorceress from keeping her forever as a decoration and toy. Lisbeth is quite ticklish as never let anyone tickle her. Her foot is still twitching from the way the sorceress had tickled her sole. Lisbeth cries out for help and for mercy despite her desire to appear strong and unintimidated.
Riona was the first to notice the tingling in Lisbeth’s feet and the slight warmth in her nether region. When Lisbeth starts to feel the initial pangs of arousal through the fog of her emotions. Lisbeth feels a great terror at her arousal. She wants to be a strong independent woman, not a submissive owned woman. And she knows that if she starts to enjoy her captivity she won’t wish to escape it, and will lose all hope of ever regaining her freedom. Because nothing makes a captive more helpless than desiring their captivity. Lisbeth feels like someone clinging to a tree as floodwaters rise as her own arousal builds and pulses within her. Finally she lets go and surrenders to the flood of pleasure shaking through her. Riona surreptitiously luxuriates in Lisbeth’s surrender, glad the imprisoned thief has found the key to happy restraint.
Lisbeth is trembling and terrified of what the sorceress will do to her upon returning, but she also can’t wait for it to happen. Riona understands her ambivalence. Riona’s consciousness begins to detach, and she takes a last look at terminally cute variation of Elizabeth Olsen she got to be for a time.
Riona is entranced at the sight of such an abjectly cute damsel as Lisbeth is. Her face is angelic and her feet are perfectly lovely tied side by side. Riona is also entranced at all the feelings and sensations she feels via Lisbeth. The web of rope confining and supporting Lisbeth makes Riona feel another shade of ecstatic frustration, and she is even able to to sublimate Lisbeth’s fear into arousal.
Lisbeth is unable to do this yet. Lisbeth had only studied escapology minimally because she strongly disliked the frustration of confinement. She is a rich indulged girl who is unaccustomed to limits. Riona could also sense that being tied up had stirred rumblings of arousal that scared Lisbeth, so she emotionally distanced herself from them, leaving Lisbeth ill prepared to find pleasure in her predicament.
Lisbeth dangles in the forward leaning hogtie she is in as a result of triggering a magical trap that could only be crafted by the greatest mages. Even if Lisbeth had been a more accomplished escape artist there is no wriggling or even cutting her way to freedom. Lisbeth has heard rumors of treasures guarded by living darkness that had been harnessed and tasked with capturing and confining anyone who got too close to what was being guarded. The tendrils of living darkness hardened in to an inescapable web of binding coils that would keep a captive confined until they were released by the sorcerer who set the trap.
The captive would be subject to comfort magic that would keep them from pain or injury, or hunger or thirst, as well as keeping the captive from aging. These comfort magics were in place to keep the prisoner alive so the owner of the treasure could deal with the would-be thief personally at their leisure, or allow them time to return home from along journey.
The rich girl thief Lisbeth Ulsun was experiencing helplessness and vulnerability like she had never imagined. Just the stimulation from the embrace of her bindings was overwhelming. She has never been this scared. Her families wealth and her own cleverness have always shielded Lisbeth from any real consequences. She has always been able to slip over the line and dart back before being caught. Now she was caught in an absolute sense, and no one could help her, or even knew where she was.
The hope that Lisbeth did her best to hold on to was that she has always been good at using her beauty and innocent demeanor to manipulate others, especially men (though she prefers the company of other ladies). Hopefully she can use her wiles on the rich man whose home she had invaded. And god help her she knew how being tied up enhances her beauty.
Lisbeth has no way of marking the passage of time, and only her reflection on the mirrored walls and the ruby she came to pilfer for company. She does her best to prepare to play the innocent who was just playing and would be willing to do anything to be released for the time her captor made an appearance. She rubs her feet together for comfort and Riona approves.
Riona wishes Lisbeth could enjoy her captivity the way Riona does, but Lisbeth is unaware of Riona’s tagging along. At times Lisbeth feels like a chandelier.
Finally after hours or maybe days, the door to the trap chamber opens and in steps not an enchanter but an enchantress who Riona recognizes as this world’s version of Sarah Silverman who is wearing a sultry black dress. Sarah strides in on her own bare feet, exuding radiant power as she walks that makes it clear that it is her magic that binds Lisbeth. Lisbeth lifts her head a little to see her captor. She knows a woman, especially a powerful woman, will be hard to manipulate, but she puts on her best doe eyes.
Sarah circles the dangling Lisbeth, examining her, saying nothing until Lisbeth pleads through her ballgag, “please, I’ll do anything if you just untie me”. Sarah smiles and answers, “Of course you will. But what I want from you is for you to be tied up. And for you to be barefoot. And for you to be ticklish”
Lisbeth’s eye’s grew even wider. She couldn’t stand being tickled. Sarah the sorcerer circled and continued, “Do you have any idea how much money and effort it usually takes to acquire a prize like you, rich girl? But you deliver yourself to me for free.”
Sarah grasps the ruby and holds it up. She says, “This room was built to house a precious trophy. But it’s not this chunk of worthless glass”.
Sarah drops the “ruby” for dramatic effect and it shatters on the floor. Sarah continues to circle Lisbeth, heedless of the glass shards on the floor, “This room was built to house you my dear, my trophy, my plaything. I’m not just going to keep you captive, I’m going to make you enjoy it.”
Sarah produces a thin cord which she uses to tie Lisbeth’s big toes together. She gives Lisbeth’s left foot a little tickle on her sole. Then Sarah kisses Lisbeth on the cheek and turns to walk out the room.
“Think on that”, Sarah says as she strides away and closes the door behind her.
When Riona first felt Gwenyth’s sorrow she wanted to give her a hug, and she’s glad that Gwenyth got one and is feeling so safe and happy now. Just as Riona is mulling the possibilities of therapeutic restraint she begins to see yet another world. This one is pre-industrial. Magic is real, but rare. Riona is seeing a big city at night where a thief is creeping through the castle of nobleman.
Riona sees that the thief is this world’s version of Elizabeth Olsen, an irresistibly cute young actress with lovely feet that Riona admired. The thief is barefoot wearing dark leggings and a dark figure hugging top that made her look a bit like a gymnast or yoga enthusiast. Moments later Riona is sharing the thief’s perceptions. Her name is Lisbeth. She is a twenty four year old daughter of a rich family. She has been stealing from other rich families since she was a teenager in order to alleviate her boredom and to rankle the humorless stuffed shirts she had to tolerate during social functions. Lisbeth was self taught at first, but she eventually made contact with and was trained by expert criminals. In addition she has acquired a magical toe ring that her kept her footsteps silent as long as she was barefoot, even if she kicked over a pile of glassware. While she remains barefoot her steps would never set off alarms or traps. Her skills and her magic had kept Lisbeth from ever getting caught.
Lisbeth usually discarded what she stole. She did it for the thrill, not for gain, and she had no wish to be caught with stolen goods. But once in a while she would steal something that she would add to her small collection of trophies. Tonight’s prize is one such item, a fist sized ruby. Lisbeth silently threads through the vaults of the castle picking locks and disabling minor magic wards as she goes. She feels the smug confidence of a young rich girl that had always been given and gotten away with everything. Otherwise she might have noticed that the security is rather light for such a valuable jewel.
Lisbeth unlocks a final door and gains access to a bright mirrored room in which the ruby rested on a cushion on a pedestal. Her information indicates that there is no more security inside this room, so Lisbeth takes only a quick look around for threats. Seeing none she strides on silent feet over to the pedestal and reached for the ruby. Before she could even touch it the lights dimmed to nearly nothing. Before Lisbeth could even think, “Uh oh” the shadows around her seemed to animate and clutch at her like a vapor. Lisbeth made to flee, but even as she turned around the shadow vapor was congealing around her most disturbingly. She feels the animate darkness taking a hold of her and forcing her arms behind her where she feels tendrils of solidifying darkness wrap around her wrists and become solid enough to hold them in place. Lisbeth struggles, but in short order her arms are bound in a box tie and her legs are tied at the knees and ankles.
Lisbeth is then forced into a kneeling position, where more darkness congeals in to cords that is as soft as cotton but with the tensile strength of steel cables. These cords bind Lisbeth further in to a kneeling hogtie. Lisbeth is already starting to panic when she feels herself being hoisted up by a rope attached to a big knot between her shoulder blades and connected to the ceiling like a forward leaning Christmas ornament. Already starting to panic Lisbeth begins screaming for help, only to have her mouth invaded by semisolid darkness which wraps around her head and hardens in to a stifling ballgag.
Lisbeth squirms and pulls and yells, but her dangling position keeps constant tension on the knots that bind her. The lights come back up making Lisbeth blink. When she can see again she looks over and sees herself in the mirror, dangling in a kneeling position, the shadow tendrils having finally hardened in to a bright red rope and a red ballgag. Lisbeth’s eyes were wide and scared and starting to water up. Lisbeth struggles halfheartedly, but she knows she is caught and she starts to plead, not knowing if anyone can even hear her. Lisbeth tried not to despair as she wondered what she would ever tall her Father. She had never been caught. She had been able to be the sweet innocent by day and the bad thief at night without being found out for so long she had felt invincible, but now she had been inescapably caught and everyone would know. The shame! Then a terrible realization came over her.
Maybe her family wouldn’t find out. Maybe no one would. No one knew Lisbeth was here now. What if the castle’s owner didn’t feel like turning her over to the authorities, but wanted to punish her themselves! They could do whatever they wanted to her and no one would ever know. Lisbeth starts to sob and lets her head hang.
Riona’s perceptions began to disengage from the reverie. She has learned a great deal. Magic was absolutely real. Ladies who are barefoot and restrained are a source of great magic energy. Enough to protect, heal, and conceal a whole community. The witch Baba Yaga might be working her magic on Riona, but Riona could feel that she herself was fueling the comfort magic and expanded senses she was experiencing.
The reality of Riona’s living room returns and she glances toward a clock. Hardly half an hour has passed since she looked in “Barbara’s” suitcase, even though she has experienced more than a weeks worth of subjective time in her reveries. Riona has no time to contemplate this new wrinkle in her journey before she is off again.
This time Riona starts out seeing Gwenyth Paltrow, or at least a Gwenyth Paltrow. Gwenyth is dressed casually in a nice shirt, jeans, and one piece slipper like shoes. She looks as vital and lovely as ever but she seems sad. Gwenyth is sitting in a waiting room and when Riona begins feeling Gwenyth’s feeling she knows Gwenyth is waiting to see her therapist who calls her in. The therapist is a dead ringer for Gillian Anderson, poised and dignified, cooly professional, dressed in a skirt and modest heels that she slips off under her desk once Gwenyth is seated.
A glum Gwenyth sits a moment in silence and absentmindedly slides her left foot back, lifting her heel out of her shoe in the process. Then she starts talking about how bad she’s been feeling about her life choices, and about how the company she started with good intentions has morphed into a delivery system for overpriced snake oil. She is distracted and unable to focus. Then at a recent session in dance class she was so out of it she collided with another dancer and knocked her over. The instructor was so furious she seized Gwenyth and hogtied her tightly with her hands facing one another. Gwenyth was feeling too defeated to even protest as she was ballgagged and her toes were tied.
Riona feels the force of the memory. She sees Gwenyth bound barefoot in a black body hugging unitard, yellow ballgag in her mouth that matched her blonde hair. After tying gwenyth’s toes together her instructor (who looks like Mia Zifkin) told her that she would be untied when she got her toes loose. Gwenyth was limber and tied in a way that allowed her to grasp her toes. But she was too dispirited and unmotivated to get them and herself free. Gwenyth’s restraints were peculiarly comforting, like a close embrace, but also the punishment she deserved for being bad, as well as containment that kept her from doing or saying anything more that was damaging. She felt something like happiness. And thus Gwenyth remained tied up all day before her disgusted instructor released her before closing the building.
The therapist asks Gwenyth how she feels about what happened. Gwenyth says that she feels angry and a little violated. She also feels conflicted about responding positively to be restrained. The therapist observes that it sounds like it was therapeutic. Gwenyth agrees and wonders how that could be. The therapist explains that it’s not unusual and that they should explore how she responds to restraint based therapy. Gwenyth is surprised when Gillian the therapist approaches her with a bag of rope and tape and scarves. Soon Gwenyth is hogtied on the couch, jeans giving the back of her knees a little wedgie her feet bare, shoes on the floor. The therapist places some wadding in Gwenyth’s mouth before taping it shut with yellow tape that matches her hair. After returning to her desk Dr. Gillian asks Gwenyth to tell her how she feels now.
At first Gwenyth thinks that the therapist is joking since she just stuffed cloth in her mouth and taped it shut, but the Dr. was waiting and so she gagtalked as best she could that being tied up definitely made her feel better in a multitude of ways. Her words sound like mush to Gwenyth, but the therapist has no trouble understanding her, so Gwenyth continues talking about how she feels comforted and punished and prevented from doing more harm. Riona laughs to herself at Dr. Gillians ability to effortlessly understand the most muffled gagtalk. Eventually the session ends and Gwenyth is reluctantly released. Virginia Madsen walks in next seeking perspective in dealing with a Gypsy curse. Riona would have loved to stick around and spend more time with Virginia, but she starts to detach and her mind is sent elsewhere.
Riona observed Julia and Emma and drank in their feelings. Emma is squirming as her inner heat builds, driven by her bondage and accentuated by the vulnerability of her soft bare feet. Just the breeze against them, and the wood of the bench below them send ripples of pleasure through her. Julia looks smugly over at her niece and settles in to enjoying her own restraint.
Writhing Emma now understands why her weird aunt was always barefoot, why she lured her to strange place without any shoes, and how good it can feel to be tied up and helpless. Emma’s frustrated ecstasy builds to a near crescendo before leveling off on to something only moderating overwhelming. Julia apologizes through her gag again for not being more direct and traumatizing Emma. Emma forgives Julia but swears when they get loose she will personally tie up Julia again and leave her that way for another two days. Julia concedes that she has it coming. Emma wonders just when exactly they will be released, and Julia admits she doesn’t know. They look blankly at each other for a heartbeat before breaking out in laughter like two schoolgirls at a slumber party.
Julia and Emma spend the next few hours enjoying their captivity and each others company. Julia even manages to twist herself around so she faces Emma and the two of them can brush each other’s feet with their toes. They laugh and reminisce like two old friends having drinks, though they have to repeat themselves a lot due to their gags.
Riona is intoxicated by the two ladies emotions and sensations, particularly the way Julia’s Jeans are pressing in to the back of her knees because of how they are bent. It feels to Riona some a kind of minor wedgie.
Eventually Rachelle Lefevre whom Riona recognizes from The Dome and whose feet she has admired. Riona doesn’t wonder why Rachelle is there, she just accepts that she is. Rachelle is wearing T-strap sandals and a brilliant sun dress. She says hello and that she has come by to greet the new ladies in town. Rachelle sits on the grass in front of Julia and Emma and explains that the town is protected and sustained by a field of benevolent magic energy generated by the feelings of tied up barefoot women. That this was possible was discovered by complete accident when a foot hating idiot became Mayor and pushed through a law that any woman caught outside barefoot would be tied up and left there for the rest of the day.
The law was met with resistance and protest as more and more ladies went barefoot as an act of civil disobedience until more than half of the towns women were tied up publicly at once. Then people began to notice that sick people were healing, plants were growing healthier, even the weather was more pleasant. The tied up women felt no pain and experienced no hunger or thirst and in time it was realized they did not age. The Mayor was run out of town. A version of his law was kept in place and the energy harnessed from the pleasure of the towns restrained women keeps everyone here healthy and young and even provides electricity and powers the cars. Only individuals who are meant to find this town can. And time doesn’t pass relative to the outside world, so visitors always return the moment they left, if they choose to leave.
When a restrained woman has been held captive for three hours or more a passerby will eventually offer to put her shoes back on and release her. If a woman leaves her home (or car in the case of visitors) without her shoes she spends a week tied up publicly before someone offers to go get her shoes from her home so she can be freed. On rare occasions a woman will give or throw away all of her shoes before going barefoot. Then the honored lady spends a year tied publicly before she is given a new pair of shoes. Julia and Emma’s eyes grow wide.
“We didn’t bring any shoes with us”, they both gagtalked at once. Rachelle smiled and said, “Well you won’t age while you’re here, and you won’t have missed anything if you return, and you will be honored for your contribution to our community.”
Emma says to Julia, “When we get free I’m tying you up for an extra month.”
All three ladies laugh, and Rachelle begins to remove her left sandal.
- This reply was modified 1 month, 3 weeks ago by Midian258.
Riona has a lot to take in already. The Japanese princess has a warrior’s heart and lives in a dangerous world. Virginia acclimatized to her captivity almost as fast as Riona had. But Emma Roberts, although a famous actress, has had no experience with real danger. Riona reels at first from the shock of Emma’s fear, confusion, and anger. Emma has never felt so violated or threatened as she does now. Emma is helpless. The zip ties connecting her hands to her bare feet are thankfully flexible, but they will not release her no matter how wildly she pulls at them. Neither can she expel the ballgag that is stuck in her mouth, no matter how great her will or effort. And a large ballgag it is since both Aunt and niece have notoriously big smiles.
To make matters worse her captivity makes no sense. She has been all but dragged to this out of the way retro small town and then been tied up on a park bench. No matter how she gag-screamed at the park goers they were all cheerful and polite, but treated them like it was only natural and right and good that they be tied up publicly. And then there was her aunt who had been acting increasingly strange. When they had been accosted Julia hadn’t put up any resistance, seeming to instantly give up, or worse want to be here. Her world had gone totally mad. The fact that something was keeping her comfortable after a day of restraint was nice, but also added to the element of unreality.
After the uniformed people showed up in the morning to free them Emma’s relief was immense. Then to her disbelief they tied her up again. What was the point? And her dear aunt Julia whom she loved was just sitting there like she found nothing odd about their circumstances and didn’t mind them in the least. A cold despair settled over Emma. and she began to cry again.
Riona rode the input from her dual consciousness like a bronco until she regains her equilibrium. Riona hopes that Emma would soon learn to love her captivity the way Fiona and the Japanese princess and Virginia had. Then Riona starts to become aware of Julia’s perceptions, and has to quickly learn to juggle three sets of feelings.
Julia is struggling with her own dilemma. In addition to being a connoisseur of the pleasures of bare feet even more refined than Fiona, Julia loves the embrace of captivity even more. Tied up and barefoot in the presence of her equally thoroughly restrained niece whom she loved was arousing her as she never has been before. But she felt guilty too. Years ago she lost the only friend trusted to tie her up. She is desperate to gain a new restraint friend and thinks her niece would be a perfect partner, but she has ignored all of Julia’s hints.
Julia heard from her therapist about this town where any woman who goes barefoot in public is tied up on the spot, and thought if she could just lure her niece here then Emma would quickly come around. Unfortunately her niece still hadn’t come around after a day and was miserable. Beyond that, being aloof was the only way Julia could hide her own volcanic arousal. She knew it was hurting Emma’s feelings, but she also knows that Emma wasn’t ready to understand it, so Julia remained aloof to hide her arousal and avoid weirding Emma out even more.
Riona regains her equilibrium again about the time Emma is finishing her cry. Emma feel hot all over, and her shapely feet were starting to tingle, and God help her she is starting to feel wet. How can she be getting turned on at a time like this. Then she sees her sweet aunt Julia looking over at her with a knowing expression that clearly says, “So, do you understand now?”.
Emma gagtalks to Julia, “You bitch, why didn’t you just tell me?”
Julia shrugs her shoulders and Mmmmmppphhhs over her wadding and tape, “Sorry”
Then they both laugh as Emma’s body starts to quiver and twitch with her newfound pleasure.
- This reply was modified 1 month, 3 weeks ago by Midian258.
Virginia sits quietly, the perfect picture of captive dignity. Virginia contemplates the life that was hers now. The one she has been living is becoming impossible to maintain with her constantly being immobilized for hours at a time daily. She is going to have to find a job where she can set her own hours and be very flexible about just when she gets her work done. And beyond that just enjoy the mischievous djinn who like to keep her comfortably tied up. Virginia slowly rubs her feet together.
Riona loves the feel of Virginia pressing her feet against one another. Riona is struck by the prevalence of magic in the worlds of her visions. In particular magic that sustains, protects and comforts tied up barefoot She is also struck by the fact that although it was the djinn provides most of the magical energy that powered Virginia’s restraint, it was the pleasure she takes in her bare feet that sparked it off and made it possible. Riona is sure that even though outside magic was influencing her, her own barefoot pleasure was helping to fuel the comfort magic that made her prolonged restraint so ecstatic. Her gypsy aunt had told her that there was pleasure and power in captivity.
Riona detaches perceptually from Virginia and her chair and feels sorrow at the loss of connection, but she is also eager for another reverie. Before she has time to worry that another won’t come Riona begins to see what looks like a small town park circa the 50’s or 60’s in the USA. Again Riona was at first just viewing a pair of ladies that are sharing a park bench. Riona’s attention was first drawn to the lady on the left side of the bench. She looks just like or maybe is Julia Roberts, the famously barefoot actress. Julia is barefoot now, and at a glance looks like she is merely sitting in the park bench in a T-shirt and Jeans with her knees drawn up to her chest and her bare feet resting side by side hanging out over the bench seat. But Julia’s hands aren’t just clasped together in front her ankles. Julia’s wrists are tied together with white rope which also bind Julia’s ankles together and to her wrists. The same kind of white cotton rope ties Julia’s legs together and to her chest, keeping her all scrunched up. A smart looking pair of strips of red duct tape cover the woman’s lips and match the red polish on her toe nails. Although clearly as helpless as a lady can be, Julia emotes no distress, and if anything looks quite happy and placid and even a little smug and self satisfied.
The same cannot be said of the annoyed looking young lady to Julia’s right. This woman looks like or is Julia’s niece Emma Roberts. Emma is dressed in what looks like a sky blue prom dress. Emma’s wrists are tied palms facing in front of her. Emma’s knees are bent, her feet are bare, and her legs are lying to one side so her lower legs are sideways to the rest of her. The zip tie around Emma’s wrists is looped under another zip tie that is keeping Emma’s ankles tied together, effectively keeping Emma in a scrunched over and slightly twisted to one side variation of how her Aunt was confined. Emma’s eye’s glare angrily at her aunt over a sky blue ballgag that fills her mouth and matches her dress.
Riona feels a moment of disorientation as she starts to share thoughts and feelings with the young lady who doesn’t just look like but is Emma Roberts. Riona loves the feel of Emmas’s restraints and she doesn’t even mind the bitter adhesive taste of the tape over her mouth. Emma on the other hand is feeling angry and confused and frustrated. Two days ago Emma Graduated from college and her Aunt Julia was in town to celebrate. Then yesterday morning out of the blue Julia had wanted to take Emma on a meandering barefoot drive and walk in the country. The first real weirdness came when Julia threw out a pair of sandals that Emma was putting in her purse claiming it wouldn’t be a genuine barefoot drive if they had any shoes with them. Emma liked being barefoot as much as the next lady, but it wan’t an obsession with her the way it was with her aunt, and her response was pretty much, “Whatever”.
Although the plan was ostensibly to have no particular destination Julia seemed to have a definite idea of where she wanted to go. When they reached this odd retro looking town Julia pulled over and announced they were getting out here without asking if Emma wanted to or not. The barefoot walk in the local park was nice enough until a small crowd of people in white police uniforms surrounded and accosted Emma and Julia. The ladies were grabbed and forced on to the park bench they currently occupied. Emma was laid on her stomach and tightly hogtied facing her aunt, a large piece of wadding held in Emma’s mouth by strips of heavy tape. Meanwhile Julia had been confined in a forward facing kneeling hogtie, a red ballgag in her mouth. Emma was overcome with anger and panic and thrashed about wildly screaming in to her tape. Emma struggled mightily until she noticed that her aunt in front of her wasn’t struggling at all, just kneeling there looking serene like there was nothing wrong or even unexpected to be tied up in a public park by a group of strangers and left there.
This was too much. She hadn’t really wanted to take this trip. Julia had been acting weird the whole way. They’d both been tied up and abandoned in public where the passersby just seem to cheerfully wave when Emma tried to shake and scream to get their attention. Now her Aunt was acting like this was no big deal, almost acting smug like she had wanted this to happen. Emma started crying and didn’t stop until she was cried out. Her Aunt Julia had mmmmmmppphhhhed some vague reassurances, but she was still maddening aloof. Evening fell. Emma was glad she didn’t feel nearly as sore as she expected too from a day of restraint (more comfort magic Riona noted) but she was almost losing her mind with frustration, pulling what little she could on the ropes that bound her. Aunt and Niece spent the night tied up in the park and the morning. Around 10:00 A.M a crowd of police in white reappeared and untied Emma. Then they tied her back up with zip ties the way she was now. Emma just couldn’t believe this. It was like a nightmare or bizarre prank.
When Emma had been reconfined and ball gagged Julia was untied while she sat patiently. She continued to sit patiently as she was retied in a ball and tape gagged, offering no hint of resistance. This blew Emma’s mind. It was one thing for Julia not to care if she stayed a prisoner in the park, but Emma would have really appreciated some effort to escape to get some help for her.
The mixture of Emma’s physical sensations and emotions is intoxicating to Riona. Then she begins to share Julia’s perceptions as well and it get’s really intense.
- This reply was modified 1 month, 3 weeks ago by Midian258.
Riona is struck by the similarity of the Japanese princess’ defiant walk of shame and the one Riona had imaged for herself earlier, though she doubts she could match the princess awesome courage. Riona feels that a real blow was struck for female sexual independence. Riona then laughs at her choice of words as she remembers her last sight of the princess happily hogtied and gagged in the dragon’s den. Riona isn’t sure whether what she just witnessed/experienced was another world, a possible world, or a world she could somehow make possible, but she thinks she would find out in due time and she isn’t in a hurry.
Before significant awareness of Riona’s cabin returned the second reverie began. It began with the sight of a stunningly beautiful blonde woman that looks just like Virginia Madsen entering a fortune tellers home. She is wearing a tasteful yellow dress and tasteful yellow high heeled shoes that both complimented her hair. As the woman makes her way in to the fortune tellers greeting room Fiona starts to not only be watching the woman, but sharing her perceptions at the same time. It turns out Riona was wrong. The blonde woman doesn’t look like Virginia Madsen. She is Virginia Madsen, though possibly of a different world than Riona’s. Or maybe not.
Virginia with Riona tagging along are greeted by a barefoot gypsy woman with a sultry demeanor who took a moment to size up Virginia before saying hello and to follow her beyond a bead curtain in to a candlelit room with two chairs and a small table upon which sat a crystal ball and a deck of tarot cards. Virginia asked, “I don’t suppose you’d mind if I slipped my shoes off?”
“Of course not”, the gypsy answered, “But I know a refined lady such as yourself feels it polite to ask first”.
“Thank you”, Virginia replied as she seats herself with poise, and gracefully slides her feet from her shoes. Riona is pleasantly surprised at how much relief Virginia feels to get those shoes off and feel the soft rug beneath her elegant feet. Riona had much admired Virginia Madsen’s feet in several glamour photos she’d found in magazines, but she had no idea Virginia is if anything an even more enthusiastically barefoot lady than Riona is. Virginia relaxes noticeably, and the gypsy asks what Virginia would like insight in to. Virginia starts to take out her purse, but the gypsy refuses, saying that she only accepts payment if she can help.
A pleasantly surprised Virginia hesitantly begins to explain that she recently acquired a toe ring with a curse on it. She was expecting to be laughed at, but the gypsy didn’t bat an eye and only asks her to continue. Virginia continues and relates that the antique dealer had told her that the ring had a curse on it, and could only be sold to someone who had been told it had a curse. Virginia thought the dealer was joking and didn’t believe it was cursed and had bought the ring on a lark.
Since then at least once a day a strange phenomena had been happening. It begins with a moment of distortion so brief that Virginia didn’t notice it until it happened three or four times. For a split second it would be as if time would warp around her as if she was moving in super slow motion, or the rest of the world was moving at super speed. Sometimes it felt like she briefly got pulled in to another dimension whose denizens could move at hyper speed. In any case, in that split second the same thing always happened. Virginia would get tied up and gagged by someone or some thing. It happened too fast to tell. Furthermore, afterwards Virginia would be under the influence of some spell or force that would cause everyone around her to either ignore her completely or to not acknowledg the fact that she was bound and gagged and struggling and would like some help. This effect would last for three or more hours until Virginia would fall asleep or finally be helped by someone that would causally undo a knot or two so that Virginia could free herself. Riona couldn’t help laughing at the comical quality of some of Virginia’s memories and how they were like some old cartoons she’d seen where two people would be having a conversation while ignoring someone else who was tied up and struggling and pleading for help over a gag.
Virginia herself had come to appreciate the comical quality of her predicaments, though it had been scary at first. She still vividly remembers walking through a local park barefoot with her sandals in her purse when all of a sudden she was hogtied and cleave gagged and being ignored by all the other park going around her. Riona could feel the Virginia’s fear as she remembered struggling both to get free and to get someone’s attention. Then her fear broke and she started laughing at the sheer absurdity of it. Then she decided that since was being given a forced time out of sorts she might as well enjoy it, since she liked being tied up, and she was barefoot which was her natural state. Riona could feel the ropes around Virginia and the grass beneath her as she rolled around and luxuriated in her confinement until some passerby undid a knot allowing Virginia to start to reluctantly free herself.
Virginia had been enjoying her captive interludes, they were always comfortable no matter how long they lasted, but they were inconvenient. Of course, the toe ring wouldn’t come off. Virginia had a feeling there was a trigger of sorts that allowed these events to happen that might allow her to gain some control over when then happened if she knew what it was. She wants to know if the gypsy can help her get the ring off or help her understand what triggers the events. The gypsy gazed into her crystal ball and could clearly see that there were several ancient and powerful djinn bound to the ring who could prey on whoever wore the it. But they were more mischievous than malevolent and liked to tie up pretty ladies and enchant them so that they stay that way a while. The gypsy could also clearly see that the djinn could only work their will when Virginia was barefoot, but she had no intention of telling her that. She knew that Virginia loved being barefoot, and might feel obligated to stop being barefoot if she knew that was what allowed the djinn to bind and enchant her. Better she continue to be barefoot and enjoy the surprise of her random bouts of captivity.
The gypsy looked up to share some of what she had learned of the djinn. Virginia was now wearing a yellow ballgag that accentuates the color of her hair, and is tightly tied to her chair, hands facing and tied behind the chair. Virginia’s loved feet are tied together side by side. Both her hands and feet are tied to a rung between the back legs of the chair, forcing her in to a kind of sitting hogtie. Virginia’s toes could barely brush the floor. Riona’s eye’s widen at the sensation of the chair seat pushing in to the back of Virginia’s knees.
The gypsy smiles and explains about the djinn in the toe ring and that she found out what allows them to force their will upon Virginia. After a long pause Virginia asks from behind her gag, “Will you tell me what it is?”
“No”, the smiling gypsy replies. She then kisses Virginia’s cheek and leaves the room, leaving Virginia to wonder how long she’ll be tied up now. Then Virginia rubs her bare feet together, causing Riona to gasp a little with sympathetic pleasure.
Riona’s mind has a stable core self that always remains “Riona”, but now with the sharing of the Japanese princess’ perceptions, feelings and even memories, Riona is becoming the princess while still remaining herself. This dual consciousness is disorienting, but Riona takes it in stride and immerses herself in the princess’ experiences which are very intense.
The Japanese princess is from a samurai family and is used to discipline, but she is also a nineteen year old girl who has lived a pampered life. She has never done hard work, let alone been tied up hard by a Japanese rope expert whose skills were usually employed against captured enemies of the family that were being interrogated, not errant family members. But no other family member in recorded history had been as disobedient as she had been when she looked in the book of forbidden erotic pleasures. The Princess has been cruelly bound and faces the displeasure of her samurai family. As opposed to Riona who has been lovingly if very firmly restrained.
And Riona has been embraced by or with some benevolent magic that protects her from thirst, or hunger, or great pain, or harm, and allowed her to only swim in a sea of restraint’s pleasures. The princess had no such protections. Although Riona has the sense that magic and dragons were real in the princess’ world, she would be allowed no such comforts by her captors. In addition to she scent of sandal wood and cherries, and the feel of the soft sheets under the princess’ soft feet, the scratchy hemp rope that bound the princess in scrunched ball was deliberately tied painfully tight, and the position she was forced in to made her muscles ache awfully. Feeling this, even second hand jolted Riona who was in the relative comfort of her chains. The princess was also in the grip of very Japanese shame in the face of her families disapproval, and she faces the prospect of being left tied up in public as a shamed example of failure before being given away to dragon as a plaything, where Riona only knew her family would be shocked and probably disapprove if they found out how she loves barefoot restraint.
The princess might have a chance to redeem herself by apologizing profusely and throwing herself at their mercy. She was their little girl, even if they were samurai. But the princess is feeling a very non-samurai like disobedience welling up inside her. She has always hated the rigid emotionless militancy of her family she wanted to feel. And now she was. The princess had been looking for bondage in the book of erotica. She hadn’t had enough time to find any, but it had found her. And every ache, and every cramp, and every scratching, cutting, and biting coil of rope gives her the perverse pleasure she had been starved of. She isn’t going to let it go now, not even for her overlord father.
Already the Princess is wetter than she ever has been, and the scent of desire is starting to waft through the air. Instead of squelching her feelings like a good samurai, the princess rocks back and forth to increase the pressure of the ropes and her arousal. The princess then rolls back a little so she can rub her perfect little feet together as she has always loved doing, just like Riona loves to do, and Riona rubs her feet together sympathetically. The princess uses her samurai courage to accept her own destiny over the commands of others.
As expected the princess family is enraged and the princess is marched barefoot with her hands tied behind her to the town square and lashed, to a post, still gagged, and left there for a week to be mocked and jeered at by the populace. Then she is taken out to the mountains and left for the dragon, which turns out to be surprisingly real and quite a nice fellow. He likes to keep the maidens he adopts tied up tightly, but he uses his dragon magic to keep his captives comfortable in a manner similar to how Riona is being kept comfortable.
The Japanese princess is relaxing in to a nice barefoot hogtie when Riona’s mind gently detaches from the princesses until she is no longer sharing perceptions with her but just observing how happy she is now. Then Riona no longer sees the princess’ world and then the reverie is over.
The intoxicating reveries seemed on a deepest level to be visions another world or worlds. Riona had once heard something about multiverses resulting from every possible thing happening somewhere at some time and the impossible was clearly already possible. Riona doesn’t ache or feel thirsty. She feels energized and powerful despite how helpless and vulnerable she is. She has been looking in to a magic suitcase that defies the laws of physics. Magic was real and beautiful. Everything was possible.
Riona has a feeling that the visions she is seeing are glimpses what the universes that might be inside Baba Yaga’s magic hut. A significant part Part of the a reverie is being able to watch a situation detached as if watching a movie, but also share the perceptions of those involved. A lesser mind might not be able to handle it, but Riona was showing herself to remarkably open to expanded states of mind.
The first reverie is of a Japanese Samurai princess (that just happened looked remarkably like the very barefoot actress Jessica Henwick from that disappointing Iron Fist show) had been caught looking at erotic literature that was forbidden to women. She was now in her elegant room where she is being disciplined. She is on her bed wearing only a blue kimono. Riona can’t help admiring the princess’ (Jessica’s) bare feet that are exposed below the Kimono. Coarse hemp rope tightly binds the princess in a ball position. Her wrists and arms are tied behind her. Additional loops of rope bind her arms to her chest. The princess’ legs are tied together above her knees which are drawn up near her chin. More rope connects the princess’ knees to her chest so she was forced to remain in a scrunched over posture. Typical of Japanese overkill, the princess perfect feet are not only tied together side by side, but a short rope connects her ankles to the knots that bind her wrists, which has the effect of bending the princess’ as far as they can bend and pulling her in to an even tighter ball position. And of course the princess’ mouth was packed with some sort of cloth which was tightly held in place by a white scarf knotted behind her head.
Riona is so fascinated by the appearance of the intricately bound Japanese princess that she is slow to process how she can also feel what the princess. Riona can see what the room looks like from the princess’ point of view. She can hear a breeze blow outside, and catch the scent of cherry blossoms wafting in. She can feel the soft fabric of the kimono and the sheets beneath her small feet. Riona can also feel the course scratchy hemp rope pressing against her soft skin and holding her inescapably, almost painfully tight. Riona can feel and taste the cloth in the princess mouth, and smell the scarf tied over her mouth. She can even feel the dampness of a single tear going down one cheek of her sad face. Riona was aghast at the onslaught of another persons perceptions, but her mind held fast, and the experience was euphoric.
But there was more. Riona can feel the princess’ shame at having been caught, and the consequences of her family knowing what she did. But on a deeper level the princess loves the discipline of the restraint. She craves this punishment. She deserves it because she craves it. She probably got caught on purpose. She will be disgraced and further punished. And the princess’ is ecstatic, and Riona along with her. Riona watches the punished princess, and feels her feelings at the same time. Riona’s pleasure increases exponentially.
Riona pulls on her bonds and makes them clack and thinks again, “If only Aunt Marcella could see me now”. Then with a jolt Riona remembers that Barbara had placed her smartphone where it could keep recording her. Riona swivels her head and flips her hair so she can see. Sure enough, the little red light indicated record on the phone. If the phone was streaming live Aunt Marcella might be watching her now. Riona laughed over her ballgag. She was feeling pretty sure that Barbara wanted to keep her for herself. Riona is so glad that her first restraint experience is being recorded so she could watch it again and again. And beyond that Riona almost wants to be revealed to the world. “Let them condemn and shame me” she thinks. Riona felt an ecstasy beyond the judgement of those who could never understand.
Riona begins to involuntarily vividly imagine that she is being marched through the streets barefoot in chains with her mouth gagged so she can’t protest. She was being put on display for the crime of loving being barefoot and tied up. She was going be chained to a post in a central square with her hands held above her. Imaginary Riona was wearing nothing but a short tunic like dress, but she felt more vulnerable and exposed than if she were nude. But she held her head defiantly as she felt the gravelly dirt beneath her bare feet, and the cold metal on her wrists and ankles, and the cold stares of everyone who knew and could judge her.
The crowd looks at her pitilessly as she is marched by, taking only the slow short steps that her ankle chains would allow. Then she sees her Great Aunt Marcella smiling in the crowd, and Riona’s reverie is stopped. Why was Riona thinking of her Aunt so much? Many of the stories Riona’s Great Aunt would tell her involved an immortal old hag of a Russian witch who lived in an animate bird legged hut who was called Baba Yaga who would kidnap and eat disobedient children. Riona’s considerably distracted mind was pulled back to the last time she had seen Aunt Marcella. It was just as Riona was reaching adolescence and her Gypsy aunt was sharing more adult stories. Apparently Baba Yaga could also take the form of of a beautiful young temptress. In this guise she would seduce young women who would find themselves held in pleasurable captivity forever inside Baba Yaga’s hut that contained many worlds within it. Riona had asked her aunt how captivity could be pleasurable. The Gypsy had looked her in the eye and said that their was much pleasure and much power to be found in captivity, and the lines on her palm indicated she would one day know.
At the time Riona had dismissed her aunt as being as crazy as people said she was. But now she felt certain that her aunt was trying to prepare her for just this. And in yet another epiphany Riona notices the similarity in the name of her roommate: Barbara Yeager, and the witch’s name Baba Yaga. Yesterday Riona had been as ordinary a young American almost college student could be. Today she was ecstatically tied up and convinced she was the captive of an ancient but youthful Russian witch.
Riona let’s her eyes close as she starts to go through a series of reveries that she really isn’t sure are dreams, daydreams, past or alternate life experiences, remembrances of magazines books movies and television, holy visions, or what exactly. But she experiences them with a hyperreal intensity.
- This reply was modified 1 month, 4 weeks ago by Midian258.
Teetering between being an innocent good girl and a naughty young adult, Riona had learned a lot about herself just from spending several hours shackled and enchained in a strict hogtie position. She had learned that she was a lesbian. She used to think that a strong interest in boys would develop in time. But now in love with her roommate as she was Riona clearly saw that she was always more interested in tending to and playing with her girlfriends feet than playing with boys.
Riona had learned that her fascination with female feet (she clips glamour photos of barefoot ladies from magazines) was rather naughty. Who thought bare feet could be naughty? And Riona had learned that she loved to be tied up. Riona had never been more threatened in her life, but she feels little fear. She feels safe and loved and beautiful and in love with her captor. Riona wonders if she has been drugged, or was dreaming, or losing her mind, and she felt so good she cared little.
Riona loved the feel of restraints and she loved being helpless and vulnerable. She would gladly accept being bound as reward or punishment. She felt pleasure and arousal in the wonderful frustration of her helpless pleasure. The longer she was helpless the more vulnerable she felt and the more aroused she became. No wonder it was hard to think.
Even if she was awake Riona felt like she was in a dream. Or one of the Fairy Tales her gypsy great aunt Marcella used to tell her when she was a child. Aunt Marcella was considered strange by her family. She dressed extravagantly and was often barefoot with jewels on her toes. She was possibly the only adult that had encouraged Riona to be barefoot and wear toe rings and get lost in imagination. What would her youthful Great Aunt Marcella think of her now? Kneeling before Barbara’s suitcase whose loose top she had managed to flip over by nudging it with her nose. She beholds a treasure trove.
Even with all the amazing things that had just happened Riona can’t believe her eyes. Not only at the contents of the suitcase, but the amount there was of it and how impossibly, even comically larger the suitcase was on the inside, like that time traveling phone booth in that British Sci-Fi show. Riona accepts this new impossibility with grace and moves on to wonder at what the case held.
Despite all the extra room Barbara apparently didn’t travel with any clothes or toiletries. Maybe they are in another suitcase. This case contains numerous other sets of manacles and shackles. Some are proper black wrought iron. There are also countless coils of rope in many colors and widths. There are leather cuffs, and circles of tape in bright primary colors. There are feathers that Riona can only surmise were for tickling. The sight of them makes the soles of Riona’s feet tingle and feel warm. There are other toys that Riona had no idea what they are for, and there are so many things.
Riona’s curiosity was running even more wild than it already was. She wants to be subjected to each one. She wants to feel the embrace of rope. She wants to feel a scarf wadded up and taped inside her mouth. And so help her she wants her soft feet to be tickled until she couldn’t stand it and then tickled some more.
She spots a cluster of ballgags and it takes Riona a few moments to realize that she was looking at the same sort of thing that was strapped in her mouth now, maddeningly preventing her jaw from closing and keeping her from speaking. So frustrating. Riona wasn’t really crazy about the taste, but she hopes it can stay in her mouth for days. Riona felt no thirst or hunger. Another apparent benefit of her magic captivity? Who is she to complain? But just how long can she remain comfortable like this? Her body ached, but in a good way. She just wanted more.
Riona sees some thin twine like cord that looks too small and flimsy for restraint. Then she realizes that their function is to tie pretty ladies big toes together. Riona involuntarily kicks her slender feet back and forth making the shackles clack. She gasps at the implications. Restraint that prevents her from freely rubbing her feet together might be more frustration than Riona could endure. But now that she knew about it she had to find out. Riona felt so hot and wet in her nether region it was driving her more crazy. Riona realizes that the funny looking small handcuff things were shackles that can be placed on toes. Now she had to know they felt like too.
Riona’s mind starts to go off in Faerie tale-ish places. She wonders if one of the ropes was enchanted so it would animate and rebind any captive that wriggled free from it’s coils. Riona hopes all this magic would make such a thing possible. She laughs as she imagines herself squirming out of a rope only to have it confine her again, but a little more stringently. She imagines herself going from having her hands lightly bound before her to being tightly hogtied by virtue of escaping repeatedly.
Riona was a sweet All-American girl from the Midwest who had just celebrated her 18th birthday last week. She didn’t even know what a ballgag was. And yet she was wearing one. The chain and shackles that tightly bound her in a hogtie position clanked and clacked and rattled deliciously as Riona squirmed her way around so she could get a better look at herself in the mirror she had put out to try clothes on in front of. Her confinement was still so awash with pleasure it was hard to think, but Riona was amazed at how lovely she looked in her restraints. Her eyes gleamed over her gag, and her shapely feet were accentuated so sensually by her ankle shackles, though she couldn’t help thinking they would better in black wrought iron.
Riona began to absentmindedly rub her sacred feet together as she often did to relax and just for the pleasure of it. Riona usually wore revealing strappy sandals which she was quick to slip off and so she could go barefoot, or Be barefoot as she preferred to think of it. Riona’s feet were very sensitive, and she seemed to get pleasure from walking barefoot, or just being barefoot, that her friends didn’t seem to get or notice. Though they never seemed to mind or object when Riona offered to paint their toe nails or share some lotion. Riona took very good care of her feet, and they looked quite virginal, like they had never been walked on, and she liked to change her toenail polish often and wear toe rings which were now glinting in the low light as Riona rubbed her feet together self indulgently. In fact to Riona her toe rings looked like small versions of the shackles that held her ankles together.
Her friends noticed that Riona was a barefoot girl and nicknamed her as such, but they really had no idea how special and important a thing it was to her, and Riona never let on. It was her secret. And now the warm tingle that flowed through her and made her desperate to touch herself, was starting to concentrate more and more in Riona’s divine feet, she began to half think of the idea that somehow the pleasure her feet gave her was linked to the pleasure she got from her restraint and that the two were magnifying one another.
Then she suddenly froze and her eyes widened as she had a moment of clarity and remembered exactly what her mysterious roommate said as she was leaving, “I vill tickle and molest your feet like they never have been before or will be again”. Riona wasn’t stupid, and the fact that she would be unable to stop the Russian roommate (What was her name? Barbara Yeager or something like that?) from doing any number of terrible things to her upon her return was something she was well aware of. And she was quite puzzled and confused by the fact that this was just another layer of sweet vulnerability that oddly aroused instead of terrifying her. But Riona never let anyone touch her very sensitive feet, and certainly not tickle them. She just couldn’t deal with that. And Barbara had threatened to not only tickle but singularly molest Riona’s feet. What on Earth did that mean? For some reason, at this late hour, the thought her tender feet tickled and kissed(?) and who knows what else, provoked a surge of panicked adrenaline that most people would experience simply by being kidnapped. Riona struggled and twisted and pulled at her metal bindings without restraint. Time blurred in a frenzy of futile twisting that left Riona exhausted, panting over her ballgag, and with her dress riding up.
Riona stopped struggling, coming to rest on her side. Riona had not only expended herself, but she realized two things. The first was that she was absolutely helpless, and like so many other things, the decisions regarding what was to be done with and to her feet was not Riona’s to make. Not anymore. And Riona realized that as much as the thought of her feet being touched terrified Riona, it thrilled her as well, as if she needed more arousal. Riona laughed at herself. She had been afraid of having to spend the whole night enchained. Now she hoped she was forced to spend the night restrained regardless of when Barbara returned and what happened next. She felt like she never wanted to be set free. Which made her notice how strangely comfortable she was. She had just thrashed against her metal confinements in a way that should have bruised her badly, but she didn’t feel a thing. She giggled to herself at the thought that she was wearing magical restraints that could only be worn comfortably indefinitely by ladies who love being barefoot.
And from an experience she had as a child when she tried to stay in a cramped toy box as long as possible that should have felt agonizingly cramped being held in this position for two, was it three hours now. It was impossible that Riona feel so refreshed and energetic (even now she was getting her wind back) instead of aching, sore, and crushed. And yet like so many impossible things, tonight they were happening. Riona had only been joking when she had wondered if her roommate was a witch. But events were starting to seem genuinely preternatural. This ordinarily would have terrified the pious little christian girl that Riona had been raised to be, but the young woman she was becoming couldn’t care less, and in fact welcomed the supernatural if it meant she could feel like this for so long and with more promised. Riona’s belly quivers and her hands again reflexively and uselessly reach to touch herself in her “nether regions”, as her mother put it.
Riona again admires herself in the mirror and tugs at her bonds just to feel the delicious resistance and sweet frustration. She glances over and sees that her roommate has left her suitcase open near where Riona is on the floor. Although the last she wants right now is to escape, she feels it would be irresponsible not to try and look for more keys. Riona was really just curious and didn’t really think there was any chance of the witchy Barbara being so careless but a responsible escape attempt was a good excuse for snooping, and how much more trouble could she get in? Riona rolled and squirmed and grunted and groaned as she pulled herself in to a kneeling position in front of Barbara’s suitcase.
When I started didn’t mean to write a small story, I only meant to post a few comments regarding how lovely and subtly successful this particular set was, and how Riona looked like such a total innocent who had stumbled upon some adult naughty fun and I got a little carried away. The story continues:
Riona lay on her stomach in her new campus residence which was actually a two person cabin a few miles in some nearby woods that Riona had only started to settle in to this morning.. Riona’s new roommate whom she had known for less than an hour had just left the cabin. Taking with her the keys to the shackles and locks that had Riona confined in a strict hogtie position that allowed for some rolling around and bending at the waist a little in exchange for the knees being bent to their maximum arc, but when the limits of her restraints was reached they would not yield and could not be circumvented. The shackles were heavy, like they were taken from a medieval dungeon. Their weight and inflexibility, and the sweet clanking sound they made was one more thing letting Riona know what a helpless captive she was.
Riona’s mind was swimming with conflicting feelings in a way that would have been painfully confusing if she didn’t feel so inexplicably good. Riona had been kidnapped! Even though she had placed the shackles on herself impulsively, she had not consented to being hog-chained and abandoned and gagged in some weird way. And she certainly hadn’t consented to being filmed enjoying the feel of the shackles so she could be blackmailed. I wasn’t fair. She was a good girl who had been just a little bit naughty, and now all of a sudden she was being punished by being chained and forced in to servitude. And she had never been happier. A smile was evident over her mouth filling ballgag. “What was wrong with her”, Riona wondered. She had every right to feel angry, indignant, and afraid. And she did feel all those things some.
But her misgivings were swept away by ocean waves of primal frustrated physical and mental pleasure that welled up deep from deep inside her. Somehow the chain that her roommate used to closely connect Riona’s manacled ankles to her back to back shackled wrists not only locked her in a hogtied position, but increased the intensity of her physical perceptions many fold and made it hard to think straight. But a sense of both curiosity and urgency made her focus as much as she could. Enough for her to analyze her pleasure if not explain it away. Her chains frustrated her physical movement, and that frustration seemed to be the core of the physical experience. Every slight movement Riona made pulled at her restraints, which pulled at some or all of the rest of her body, ricocheting and amplifying her sensations in an endless feedback loop. She found herself wishing that if she couldn’t release the tension building in her by touching herself, then being tickled silly by her demented Russian roommate might be the next best release.
The frustration of her restraint was not only key in a physical sense but in a mental and emotional way as well. Riona marveled at how her choices had been taken from her. Whether she was shackled or not, whether she could bend her knees or not, whether she could leave the cabin or not, whether she was gagged or not, whether she was barefoot or not; all these alternatives were decisions that she was no longer allowed or able to make. These decisions had been made for her. Her choice, her freedom had been stolen from her. She knew she should be furious. But she only felt ecstatic and grateful. The removal of Riona’s freedom felt like another layer of the frustrating blissful embrace of confinement she was in. She was restrained mentally and physically and loved it. She had meant it when she had said (or tried to say), “I love you” to her Slavic captor.
Even the blackmail threat felt like a kind of thrilling embrace. It was another way this witchy woman was frustratingly confining her. Even if she could get out of the shackles she had to obey her Russian roommate or every contact in her smartphone would get to see her enjoying the restraints. And it was her blatant enjoyment of her initially self imposed confinement that she couldn’t bear her parents and sisters and friends to see. They would see the core of who she was, and she was far to shy to bear the thought of everyone who knew her seeing her so nakedly exposed. It would be like someone catching her touching herself. Riona was modern enough not to think there was anything bad about touching herself, but she only did it when she was absolutely sure she thought no one would know. Of course her mother and sisters knew, but they let Riona think she was being stealthy and clever. But Riona felt strangely sure that her captor wasn’t interested in embarrassing her to her family. The enchanting Russian liked keeping secrets. And Riona seemed to be the latest secret she would keep.
And for some reason the thought of doing work and chores in order to win the favor of the mysterious eastern woman who had imprisoned her was surprisingly appealing. Riona passingly wondered if her roommate was a witch that was using ecstasy magic to manipulate her in to being her servant. Riona found that she didn’t care. The thing that frightened her the most now was oddly enough, the possibility of her captor returning abruptly and freeing Riona and then refusing to imprison her again and leaving her with just a taste of what she now felt she needed more than anything.
Riona felt like she was in a Faerie Tale. She was a good girl who had wondered off barefoot in a moment of naughtiness and gotten lost in to a dark forest and been captured by an evil witch. And she was OK with that. As long a the witch didn’t reject her now. Riona knew this made no sense, but she felt it with a biblical kind of certainty. This ecstasy was her destiny. And it seemed like it would never end. How much time had passed? More than an hour. Evening was approaching.
- This reply was modified 2 months ago by Midian258.
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 6 months, 1 week 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”