Robbery with Foot Torture - Request by Gizem (M/F)
You're sitting on the bed in your nightgown and barefoot when you suddenly hear a noise at the front door. Who's there?
Oh, nonsense - that noise must have come from the TV, don't be such a scaredy-cat! You're captivated by your crime thriller again when, out of nowhere, a hand clamps itself over your mouth.
You struggle with all your might, but soon your wrists are tied behind your back with cable ties. Your ankles and big toes follow shortly after. A final cable tie connects your hands and feet in a very tight hogtie.
You want to scream, but the red rubber band in your mouth is very effective.
You look at me fearfully as I say, "Where is your cash and jewelry? Believe me, I have all the time in the world - and ways to make you talk!"
Continuation if desired!
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Robbery with foot torture - request by Gizem (M/F) - Part 6
Robbery with foot torture - request by Gizem (M/F) - Part 6
Last edited by johopp 1 week ago, edited 6 times in total.
I think I'll start by tickling her feet, and then it depends on how quickly and, more importantly, how convincingly @gizem tells me what I want to know...JulieG wrote: 1 month ago A shirt start which means this story only goes one way. Can I ask, by foot tortur pen do you mean tickling, or something more extreme? Bastinado, roasting etc?
So I think her feet will have to endure quite a bit, since I don't think she's very cooperative or trustworthy
Am I right about that, @gizem?Part 2:
I slowly begin to let my fingers glide over your bare, delicate soles. You squirm frantically in your restraints, but they offer far too little freedom for your feet to escape my fingers.
"HMMOMO!" An unintelligible mixture of shrieks, pleas, and laughter penetrates your ball gag. You're sweating all over, your heart pounding wildly. But just before unconsciousness releases you, I stop.
You want to open your mouth wide and greedily suck in air like a fish, but the red rubber ball barely lets any air through. And the amount of oxygen flowing through your nose is just enough to survive, not enough to quickly reduce your breathing and heart rate.
"You know the question, sweetie! Jewelry and money! Where?" Since you're still completely out of breath, only a squeak escapes the gag. You haven't even noticed yet that the cable ties have cut deep into the skin on your wrists and ankles because of your fidgeting.
"You still won't tell me, will you? How unfortunate! Now for stage two!" Panic rises within you!
Continued after feedback!
I slowly begin to let my fingers glide over your bare, delicate soles. You squirm frantically in your restraints, but they offer far too little freedom for your feet to escape my fingers.
"HMMOMO!" An unintelligible mixture of shrieks, pleas, and laughter penetrates your ball gag. You're sweating all over, your heart pounding wildly. But just before unconsciousness releases you, I stop.
You want to open your mouth wide and greedily suck in air like a fish, but the red rubber ball barely lets any air through. And the amount of oxygen flowing through your nose is just enough to survive, not enough to quickly reduce your breathing and heart rate.
"You know the question, sweetie! Jewelry and money! Where?" Since you're still completely out of breath, only a squeak escapes the gag. You haven't even noticed yet that the cable ties have cut deep into the skin on your wrists and ankles because of your fidgeting.
"You still won't tell me, will you? How unfortunate! Now for stage two!" Panic rises within you!
Continued after feedback!
Part 3
I rummage through the cupboards for something useful. I don't find any money, but I do find several sealed pink envelopes with a little heart on them. Of course, something like that interests me!
Your horrified "Mmmph!", which cuts through your gag, reinforces my decision to read the letters. Sappy love letters from you to a certain Tim—apparently never sent.
Your face turns bright red as you listen to your own love letters—you have no other choice!
After I've read you five to ten letters, I say, "Since you obviously never sent the letters, your sweetheart Tim obviously doesn't know anything about his happiness yet. We have to change that!"
You watch in horror as I take a marker from the drawer. Then I scribble on the soles of your bare feet with it—it tickles terribly! But the toe restraints effectively prevent your feet from escaping.
When my artwork is finished, I take a picture of it with
your phone and show it to you. "Do you want to f**k me?
Maria!"
Your bright red face confirms my suspicion: Your sweetheart doesn't know anything about your relationship yet! "What do I get if I don't send the picture of your decorated soles to your boyfriend?" "Hmmmmpf!"
Feedback requested
I rummage through the cupboards for something useful. I don't find any money, but I do find several sealed pink envelopes with a little heart on them. Of course, something like that interests me!
Your horrified "Mmmph!", which cuts through your gag, reinforces my decision to read the letters. Sappy love letters from you to a certain Tim—apparently never sent.
Your face turns bright red as you listen to your own love letters—you have no other choice!
After I've read you five to ten letters, I say, "Since you obviously never sent the letters, your sweetheart Tim obviously doesn't know anything about his happiness yet. We have to change that!"
You watch in horror as I take a marker from the drawer. Then I scribble on the soles of your bare feet with it—it tickles terribly! But the toe restraints effectively prevent your feet from escaping.
When my artwork is finished, I take a picture of it with
your phone and show it to you. "Do you want to f**k me?
Maria!"Your bright red face confirms my suspicion: Your sweetheart doesn't know anything about your relationship yet! "What do I get if I don't send the picture of your decorated soles to your boyfriend?" "Hmmmmpf!"
Feedback requested
thank you! i’d love to be in this situation irl^^johopp wrote: 1 month ago Robbery with Foot Torture - Request by Gizem (M/F)
You're sitting on the bed in your nightgown and barefoot when you suddenly hear a noise at the front door. Who's there?
Oh, nonsense - that noise must have come from the TV, don't be such a scaredy-cat! You're captivated by your crime thriller again when, out of nowhere, a hand clamps itself over your mouth.
You struggle with all your might, but soon your wrists are tied behind your back with cable ties. Your ankles and big toes follow shortly after. A final cable tie connects your hands and feet in a very tight hogtie.
oh i just saw this! and i wanna be in this situation irl! it’s sooo hottt
You want to scream, but the red rubber band in your mouth is very effective.
You look at me fearfully as I say, "Where is your cash and jewelry? Believe me, I have all the time in the world - and ways to make you talk!"
Continuation if desired!
Part 4
I have to bite my lip to keep from bursting out laughing. Of course, I know you're screaming something like, "I'll do anything you want!" into your gag, but I pretend not to understand. I enjoy watching your voice and look grow more and more desperate. You even have tears in your eyes. But no matter how loud, fast, or slow you scream, I keep pretending not to understand.
Only after a few minutes do I seemingly give in and promise to remove the embarrassing message from the soles of your feet. You smile at me, relieved. But I seem to be facing a new problem:
"But—what am I supposed to use to wash the message off your soles?" You scream into your gag again, repeatedly pointing at the cupboard with the cleaning supplies.
After pretending several times that I didn't understand you and asking you to speak more clearly, I went into the bathroom with a grumpy, "You have to do everything yourself!" When I returned, I was holding your electric toothbrush.
Your expression changed from pleading to questioning. Only when I switched the toothbrush on just above the soles of your feet did you realize what I was planning. With a "I hope you don't have sweaty feet!" I ran the rotating brush head over your bare soles again and again. I didn't miss a single square centimeter. I even cleaned thoroughly between your toes, where the skin is particularly delicate and sensitive.
Laughing loudly, you let the toothbrush head tickle your soles again and again—you had no other choice! Only the thought that the embarrassing message would disappear forever kept you going. You don't need to know that I already photographed the soles of your feet with the message on them, and secondly, that the marker is waterproof and therefore can't be washed off anyway!
Do you still like it, @gizem?
I have to bite my lip to keep from bursting out laughing. Of course, I know you're screaming something like, "I'll do anything you want!" into your gag, but I pretend not to understand. I enjoy watching your voice and look grow more and more desperate. You even have tears in your eyes. But no matter how loud, fast, or slow you scream, I keep pretending not to understand.
Only after a few minutes do I seemingly give in and promise to remove the embarrassing message from the soles of your feet. You smile at me, relieved. But I seem to be facing a new problem:
"But—what am I supposed to use to wash the message off your soles?" You scream into your gag again, repeatedly pointing at the cupboard with the cleaning supplies.
After pretending several times that I didn't understand you and asking you to speak more clearly, I went into the bathroom with a grumpy, "You have to do everything yourself!" When I returned, I was holding your electric toothbrush.
Your expression changed from pleading to questioning. Only when I switched the toothbrush on just above the soles of your feet did you realize what I was planning. With a "I hope you don't have sweaty feet!" I ran the rotating brush head over your bare soles again and again. I didn't miss a single square centimeter. I even cleaned thoroughly between your toes, where the skin is particularly delicate and sensitive.
Laughing loudly, you let the toothbrush head tickle your soles again and again—you had no other choice! Only the thought that the embarrassing message would disappear forever kept you going. You don't need to know that I already photographed the soles of your feet with the message on them, and secondly, that the marker is waterproof and therefore can't be washed off anyway!
Do you still like it, @gizem?
i love ittt, my soft soles need that frjohopp wrote: 3 weeks ago Part 4
I have to bite my lip to keep from bursting out laughing. Of course, I know you're screaming something like, "I'll do anything you want!" into your gag, but I pretend not to understand. I enjoy watching your voice and look grow more and more desperate. You even have tears in your eyes. But no matter how loud, fast, or slow you scream, I keep pretending not to understand.
Only after a few minutes do I seemingly give in and promise to remove the embarrassing message from the soles of your feet. You smile at me, relieved. But I seem to be facing a new problem:
"But—what am I supposed to use to wash the message off your soles?" You scream into your gag again, repeatedly pointing at the cupboard with the cleaning supplies.
After pretending several times that I didn't understand you and asking you to speak more clearly, I went into the bathroom with a grumpy, "You have to do everything yourself!" When I returned, I was holding your electric toothbrush.
Your expression changed from pleading to questioning. Only when I switched the toothbrush on just above the soles of your feet did you realize what I was planning. With a "I hope you don't have sweaty feet!" I ran the rotating brush head over your bare soles again and again. I didn't miss a single square centimeter. I even cleaned thoroughly between your toes, where the skin is particularly delicate and sensitive.
Laughing loudly, you let the toothbrush head tickle your soles again and again—you had no other choice! Only the thought that the embarrassing message would disappear forever kept you going. You don't need to know that I already photographed the soles of your feet with the message on them, and secondly, that the marker is waterproof and therefore can't be washed off anyway!
Do you still like it, @gizem?
Julie has actually done something similar to me. She tied me up, wrote in my soles in sharpie and then tried to scrub it off with a stiff brush lots of soapy water.
It took days to go. Lucky I don’t work as a winning instructor or something where I’d have to be barefoot. Thick tights all week!
It took days to go. Lucky I don’t work as a winning instructor or something where I’d have to be barefoot. Thick tights all week!
Part 5
"The message's gone!" I say. Since you can't see the soles of your feet, you don't know that was a lie! There's no getting rid of the waterproof marker that way.
The thought that you're thanking me for absolutely nothing makes me bite my lip to keep from bursting out laughing. Ouch—I bit my lip too hard. You'll pay for this!
I pretend to rub a nourishing moisturizer onto your (from scrubbing) slightly rough and reddened soles. With a contented sigh, you enjoy the way my fingers massage your battered feet.
But as soon as I'm finished, I say, as if by chance, "I think I really need glasses! I completely mistook the moisturizer for the itching powder!"
Feedback as always.
"The message's gone!" I say. Since you can't see the soles of your feet, you don't know that was a lie! There's no getting rid of the waterproof marker that way.
The thought that you're thanking me for absolutely nothing makes me bite my lip to keep from bursting out laughing. Ouch—I bit my lip too hard. You'll pay for this!
I pretend to rub a nourishing moisturizer onto your (from scrubbing) slightly rough and reddened soles. With a contented sigh, you enjoy the way my fingers massage your battered feet.
But as soon as I'm finished, I say, as if by chance, "I think I really need glasses! I completely mistook the moisturizer for the itching powder!"
Feedback as always.
johopp wrote: 3 weeks ago Part 5
"The message's gone!" I say. Since you can't see the soles of your feet, you don't know that was a lie! There's no getting rid of the waterproof marker that way.
The thought that you're thanking me for absolutely nothing makes me bite my lip to keep from bursting out laughing. Ouch—I bit my lip too hard. You'll pay for this!
I pretend to rub a nourishing moisturizer onto your (from scrubbing) slightly rough and reddened soles. With a contented sigh, you enjoy the way my fingers massage your battered feet.
But as soon as I'm finished, I say, as if by chance, "I think I really need glasses! I completely mistook the moisturizer for the itching powder!"
Feedback as always.
oh wow! my poor soft soles, i’d beg for mercy in this situation
Part 6
With a mischievous grin, I enjoy your pleading and begging. "What do you want? I'm happy to grant your every wish, but you'll have to speak more clearly!" "MMMMPF!"
Of course, I understand perfectly well that you're constantly begging me to relieve the agonizing itch on the soles of your feet. At the same time, you're desperately trying to scratch your soles with the toes of your other foot, but since your big toes are tightly bound together, it's impossible. And your fingers are too far away to reach the knots on your ankles. Frustrated, you scream into the gag again. Your eyes gleam with a mixture of despair and anger.
With your screaming, I can hardly concentrate on searching for your valuables. Are you perhaps suffering from hypoglycemia? I open your refrigerator and, before your horrified eyes, pack all the food into my backpack. "Don't panic! As soon as I'm safe, I'll give the police an anonymous tip on where to find you! And anyone can survive two full days without food or water! This way, I can save myself the trip to the supermarket for at least three days while I'm in hiding." Your eyes widen.
"All right, I'm feeling merciful today!" I say, taking two popsicles out of my backpack again. Then I carefully remove your gag, warning you that any sound will have consequences.
When I let you lick the vanilla ice cream coated in crisp chocolate, it's like an explosion of flavor for you, which you acknowledge with a contented sigh. Your tongue eagerly seeks contact with the creamy treat for the second time—but instead, it's pushed back again by the familiar rubber ball. Before you can react, I've shoved the ball gag back between your teeth. An indignant "Hmmmmpf!" That's all you bring while I lock the ball gag behind your head.
"I thought I had warned you! Not a peep! Now you'll face the consequences!" I say, placing the ice on the soles of your bare feet. The temperature shock takes your breath away. "I'm warning you again: Don't drop the ice! I'll take it off as soon as I find all your valuables!" And that could take a while!
At least the cold shock drowns out the itching.
Feedback as always. And don't worry, @JulieG, I have more planned for my little hostage:-)
With a mischievous grin, I enjoy your pleading and begging. "What do you want? I'm happy to grant your every wish, but you'll have to speak more clearly!" "MMMMPF!"
Of course, I understand perfectly well that you're constantly begging me to relieve the agonizing itch on the soles of your feet. At the same time, you're desperately trying to scratch your soles with the toes of your other foot, but since your big toes are tightly bound together, it's impossible. And your fingers are too far away to reach the knots on your ankles. Frustrated, you scream into the gag again. Your eyes gleam with a mixture of despair and anger.
With your screaming, I can hardly concentrate on searching for your valuables. Are you perhaps suffering from hypoglycemia? I open your refrigerator and, before your horrified eyes, pack all the food into my backpack. "Don't panic! As soon as I'm safe, I'll give the police an anonymous tip on where to find you! And anyone can survive two full days without food or water! This way, I can save myself the trip to the supermarket for at least three days while I'm in hiding." Your eyes widen.
"All right, I'm feeling merciful today!" I say, taking two popsicles out of my backpack again. Then I carefully remove your gag, warning you that any sound will have consequences.
When I let you lick the vanilla ice cream coated in crisp chocolate, it's like an explosion of flavor for you, which you acknowledge with a contented sigh. Your tongue eagerly seeks contact with the creamy treat for the second time—but instead, it's pushed back again by the familiar rubber ball. Before you can react, I've shoved the ball gag back between your teeth. An indignant "Hmmmmpf!" That's all you bring while I lock the ball gag behind your head.
"I thought I had warned you! Not a peep! Now you'll face the consequences!" I say, placing the ice on the soles of your bare feet. The temperature shock takes your breath away. "I'm warning you again: Don't drop the ice! I'll take it off as soon as I find all your valuables!" And that could take a while!
At least the cold shock drowns out the itching.
Feedback as always. And don't worry, @JulieG, I have more planned for my little hostage:-)
Feedback please before @gizems feet are frozen completeiy
Im looking forward to discover how many more ways you can torture the poor girl’s feet