dtka66
Verified
- Joined
- Apr 3, 2005
- Messages
- 433
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- 28
The Tease:
Download the PDF version here: https://mega.nz/file/u5pGna7R#0tLUSztmv2sP_nGelFm0n5vG6dTTxxZw9iL4pM4KoDI
Caution: The following content - a pure work of fiction - may contain elements that are not suitable for all audiences. Viewer discretion is advised!
UNDERFOOT CONSPIRACY - PART I
by dtka66
It was 2:17 p.m. — the attorney Elias Fisher couldn’t stop shaking his legs. The air conditioning of his modern industrial style law office wasn’t cooling enough. He loved the place, but that day he felt stuffy there. Perhaps the plan was just too much for him. The thought pounded in his mind.
Once again, he checked his cell phone. Its screen lit up — 2:18 p.m.
“Fuck, c’mon! Where’re you, Judge?”
He took a deep breath, looking at the sweeping view of downtown Phoenix in an attempt to soothe his nerves.
“HAAAHAHAGHAH P-PLEASEEEE STOOOOPGAHAH!!!”
Elias’s attention shifted back to his laptop. A live stream from the Department of Corrections website was showing a short-haired inmate strapped down in a restraint chair. Two female guards were tickling her immobilized bare feet. Their long nails moved quickly on her vulnerable oily soles.
The poor woman was laughing too loud in Elias’ earphones, but he didn’t seem to mind. The attorney leaned back, scratching the chair’s armrest with his index finger, mimicking the nail movements of the guards.
“That’s it, Ms. Duncan. Laugh for me! I’m glad you accepted my counsel. Just five years left… Hm, yeah! Keep ticklin’ my client, ladies!”
The live stream was his guilty pleasure, the best choice as he waited for the call. Elias was entranced, watching with delight as his former client begged the guards to stop the ticklish torment.
When his attention was fully absorbed by the footage, the cell phone buzzed on the desk, breaking the intimate moment. He looked at the screen — ‘Unknown Caller’. He let it buzz once more, pulled off his earphones, and picked up.
“Finally!” His voice sounded relieved.
On the other end, a calm female voice spoke. “The cards are on the table. My guy is talking to your secretary in the next room right now. He’ll leave the files with her.”
“Good,” Elias’s eyes still on the muted screen as the inmate squirmed under the punishing foot tickle. “I’m gonna see my client now.”
“Go, and remember… Everything’s in place,” the female voice continued, her words sounding more serious. “Your next move is crucial. Don’t make any mistakes!”
“Rest assured, consider it done!” he replied, trying to sound like an expert.
“Very well,” the mysterious judge said coldly. “We’ll talk soon.”
The line went dead.
Elias set the cell phone down, his fingers resting on it for a moment, longer than necessary. His laptop screen showed that the foot tickling session was on break, his former client reduced to exhausted gasps and spasms. He turned off the monitor and stood up, buttoning his suit jacket with shaky hands.
“Don’t stress. I’ll succeed no matter what!” he sighed.
The attorney straightened his back, striding purposeful as he left the room. His secretary smiled when she handed him the folder with the aforementioned files. He grabbed it and gave her a gentle nod. Elias stepped out of the building, the bustling noise of downtown Phoenix made him miss the loud laughter of Ms. Duncan.
The drive to Phoenix federal prison was silent, the Arizona landscape flashing past his black BMW. He kept his focus ahead, mentally preparing himself for the conversation he was about to have. This case was different. Powerful people and a lot of cash involved. Elias knew his client had to believe him. The plan had to work!
The visitation room of FCI Phoenix seemed like a small desert bunker, with two fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow over a single metallic table and two folding chairs. In contrast to the lifeless interior, a very attractive Mexican woman was sitting at the table, her black eyes fixed on the room’s door. The nametag read — Isabella Solaria. Her long raven hair slid down her back. The curves of her naturally tanned tattooed body stood out, even in the drab prison-issued uniform.
Isabella was tapping a pair of slip-on shoes — size 7 — impatiently. Just as she was about to call for someone to escort her back to the cell block, the door swung open. A female guard glared at the inmate. “You got a visitor, Solaria.”
Isabella glared back, giving the middle finger of her cuffed hands. Elias Fisher entered the room, faking an exhausted look. He signaled to the guard, who closed the door behind him.
“Mrs. Solaria. How’re you doing? I’m so sorry for being late!”
“You don’t look good!” the inmate replied surprised.
“Sorry, it’s been a hell of a day! I’ve been working non-stop on your case. I just came from a long meeting with the judges and—”
“Por Dios! Enough! My case… how bad is it?”
“Yes, ahem, well… I managed to negotiate a plea deal for a more lenient sentence... Fifteen years in prison is what I got…”
“Qué? FIFTEEN YEARS!!! EN TU CULO!!!” Isabella yelled at Elias, banging her hands on the table.
“Mrs. Solaria, be reasonable. If you go to trial, given the charges, you could get twice that, maybe more!”
“For me, es lo mismo! Fifteen. Thirty. Sixty. FUCK! A LA MIERDA ESTO!!! You know what? YOU’RE FIRED!!! I’ll make some calls and… you’ll see!”
Outside the room, in the corridor, the guard who had glared at Isabella moments ago, smirked sadistically upon hearing the screams inside. Meanwhile, Elias pressed on.
“Mrs. Solaria, please! Your husband is locked up for life. The cartel’s gone. You’re a target out there. But you’re young. I could still get you into witness protection if you decide to cooperate. The authorities are very interested in the whereabouts of the cartel financial assets, and—”
“TE LO DIJE UN MILLÓN DE VECES!!! The money’s buried all over the border, BUT I DON’T KNOW WHERE!!!” Isabella yelled angrily again, but then tried to calm herself down. “Listen, Elias, you’ve helped me before. You need to fix this! You know these people. I’ll work with the federales, okey? But first, I need to get out of here!”
“Well, there is one more option… but I’m not sure if you’ll agree...”
“Elias, dime! I’m in deep shit!”
“Well… a federal judge, a really close friend, can help. But you’d have to agree to be transferred to a therapeutic center. She can pull some strings and cut your jail time… very significantly.”
“Therapeutic center? Are you sendin’ me to a fuckin’ manicomio?”
“Oh no, no! It’s the Ava Roi Podiatry Center, up in Washington state. Many of my clients have come out there completely transformed!”
“Podiatry? Qué? They’ll give me pedicuras? Qué mierda es esto? Oh, you wanna send me to these cárceles de cosquillas! No fuckin’ way, HIJUEPUTA!!!” Isabella shouted, leaning back on the folding chair wildly.
Elias leaned in, adjusting his tie, locking eyes with his client.
“Mrs. Solaria, foot stimulation therapy is the current best option for women avoiding our outdated incarceration system. This judge… is a huge enthusiast of this method. Our foot-tickle prisons can be tough, I must admit. But Ava Roi is different! It’s a great opportunity for your case! Here, I brought some brochures.”
Isabella was red with anger. Her first instinct was to tell Elias to go fuck himself again, but she hesitated. The inmate shook her head. However, she started to think twice about the proposal.
Elias, seizing the moment, looked down at Isabella’s slip-on shoes and decided to push on. “May I ask you, Mrs. Solaria… Do you mind having your feet touched?”
The question froze Isabella! A stark reminder of her husband, the feared drug lord Tato Solaria, known as “La Lengua”, popped into her mind. Tato was completely obsessed with Isabella’s bare feet. Hours of foot worship, followed by hot and wild lovemaking. Anyone who dared mock Tato’s foot fetish faced the brutal methods of his cartel. And Isabella loved it! It made her feel powerful, with the world — and specially men — literally at her feet. But now, in prison, she missed that feeling, that power, and the unique foot care.
“N-no sé qué… I-I mean… Fuck you! You really have the balls to ask me this!”
“Mrs. Solaria, I understand your concern. But these foot stimulation therapies actually yield results—”
“FUCK YOU!!!” Isabella screamed angrily, giving Elias both middle fingers.
“Alright, Mrs. Solaria. I know it’s a big decision. Just consider the Ava Roi Center option, okay? Because if you don’t, I can’t offer anything better than fifteen years in prison. But at the Center, you’d serve only... one year! Okay? Think it over, I’ll be back soon…”
“Wait, wait, wait… Qué? One year? You mean, just one year in this Centro?”
Elias, who had already turned to leave, smirked. Isabella was about to bite the hook, and the attorney was assured his client didn’t even feel trapped!
“Exactly! One year as an official client at the Ava Roi Podiatry Center. Take a look at the brochures! Does it look like a prison to you?” the attorney said confidently.
“Just one year in this place… Cuál es la trampa? You can’t be serious?”
The attorney pulled up his folding chair and sat down beside Isabella, his voice calm and persuasive.
“You know you can’t go back to Mexico because of the cartels. Soon you’ll be an American citizen. We want to help you turn your life around. Keeping you away from criminal activities. This could be your chance for a fresh start. So, what do you say?”
Elias knew that her client was driven by the thought of freedom.
“They’ll give me terapia de foot tickles… That’s it, for a whole year? And I’ll be free?” Isabella asked, rocking back and forth on her feet, completely distracted by the idea of spending a very short sentence, while receiving a therapy she thought silly.
“Listen,” the attorney kept with his persuasive skills. “The Center educates specialists in foot stimulation techniques. You’ll be a client, just like many other women with legal problems. Some even volunteer there. They pay well too. I know it sounds odd at first, but it changes lives! You don’t have to decide right now. Just think it over, alright? I’ll be back—”
“No, wait!” Isabella interrupted Elias. She was silent for a moment, biting her lips before lowering her eyes to her sockless feet inside the slip-on shoes.
“Okey... I agree. Send me to the fuckin’ Center, órale. That’s my final decision.” Isabella said, giving Elias a serious look.
“Mrs. Solaria, trust me. It’s the right choice! A year will fly by. You’ll see how effective foot stimulation therapy is. I bet you’re not even... cosquilluda, eh? Hehe!”
A strange smile appeared on Isabella’s face, as she licked her meaty upper lip.
“Wanna test it? Here, tickle my foot…”
Unexpectedly, the inmate shook her right foot until the shoe fell off, landing abruptly on the floor. Elias was completely disconcerted. His cheeks flushed red, while he clenched his jaw, fighting to maintain composure. Isabella, on the other hand, knew exactly how powerful her barefoot could be when it came to men.
“Mrs. Solaria, p-please. My intention wasn’t—”
“Shhhhh… on your knees, güero.”
Elias hesitated for a moment, but gave in and kneeled before her. He gently held her foot by the heel. It was soft and warm — the sole was pinkish hue, with elegant and pronounced high-arched, leading up to shapely toes. Her big toe stood slightly apart, its plumpness dominating the other toes, which initiated a perfect descending line until the pinky toe.
The view and smell tempted Elias in ways he couldn’t resist.
The attorney swallowed hard. He raised his hand to start tickling his client’s smooth foot sole, but Isabella wouldn’t let that happen. She kicked his hand away and pressed the ball of her foot firmly against his forehead.
“Tongue out and lick my foot, cowboy. Then I’ll sign your papers.”
Elias, completely surrendered by the situation, parted his lips, his tongue extending toward Isabella’s pink heel… just when the door swung open.
“Alright, time’s up. You two need to… WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING HERE?!?!”
The female guard shouted out, her voice filled the visitation room. Elias stood up quickly, trying to hide the bulge in his pants. His face flushed with embarrassment.
“Err… okay, Mrs. Solaria. Ahem… I just need your signature here, and… here, and I can transfer you right away.”
Isabella twirled the pen around her fingers, before signing the papers with a deliberate slowness, never breaking eye contact with the guard. Once done, she leaned back and propped her feet up on the table, one foot still bare.
“Hurry it up, Elias! I don’t want to see this cabrona any more!”
“I’m on it. I’m glad we’ve reached a decision, Mrs. Solaria. See you soon!”
Elias passed the guard quickly, his eyes glued to the floor.
“Hey, diabla!” Isabella in a snotty tone to the guard. “Take me back to my cell. I’m leaving this shit!”
The inmate stood up, slipping her foot back into the discarded shoe. The guard, still shocked by what she had walked in on, wordlessly released the chains on Isabella’s handcuffs, escorting her back to the cell block.
It was 8:50 p.m. The sun dipped below the horizon, while the bright moonlight began to illuminate the rolling hills surrounding the Ava Roi Podiatry Center complex. A pleasant breeze carried the scent of pine needles and damp earth through the open window of one of the luxurious staff suites.
Sitting on the edge of her plush bed fitted for a queen, a comfort reserved only for research doctors — after hours of tireless work pushing the boundaries of female foot ticklishness — Dr. Scarlett Auburn was finally kicking off her high heels.
“Oww! My feet are killing me!” she groaned, rubbing her high-arched size 9 feet.
Scarlett grabbed a handheld massager and began working it into her tired soles. “Mmm, this feels so good!” she moaned, eyes closing in relief. Images of the female subjects under her supervision flashed through her mind, their soles squirming helplessly through the unique foot tickling procedures of Ava Roi.
As the doctor worked the massager with one hand, she used the other hand to start unbuttoning her shirt, leaving just her bra on. Her wavy red hair almost brushed against her plump breasts as it fell over the sides of her shoulders.
A few minutes passed. The massager was working wonders, when the relaxing moment was interrupted by her phone buzzing on the bedside table. She stretched to grab it. The screen read, ‘Unknown Caller’.
She turned off the massager, lying cozily in the bed before picking up the phone.
“I suppose this is a safe line, and it’s my turn now,” she said, her voice playful.
“You should receive the package in a few days. She’s already in transit. Seems like your… boyfriend… pulled it off,” the mysterious Judge replied.
“I told you there wouldn’t be any issues,” Dr. Auburn said smugly.
“Well, I hear he got distracted by his client’s foot charm,” the Judge continued with a more serious tone. “Gossip spreads fast in our circles. He’s lucky I had the CCTV turned off. You know how embarrassing slips can be. You assured me he was ready.”
“Aww, I would’ve loved to have seen that. Well, he made it happen! What can I say, the guy is passionate about his work!” Scarlett laughed, trying to ease the tension.
“He’d be more useful if he don’t make mistakes. I expect better. We can’t risk this because of him. Otherwise… You know what’s gonna happen to him…”
“I do. Well, he is... expendable. I assume you told him to get back to work, handle other cases normally. Right now, he’s probably jerking off watching live streams of his clients! I still haven’t forgiven you for making me cozy up to that loser. At least he pulled through. I’m always right about my trainees.”
The Judge chuckled. “Hehehe… That’s why I’m head over heels for you!”
“We’ll get what we’re after soon. Then we can make up for lost time!” Scarlett said with a sexy voice.
“Indeed, my dear… So, how long until the package breaks?” the Judge asked.
“You tell me. Want me to speed things up?”
“Please do.”
“As you wish, ‘milady’.”
“One more thing. I’ve got people in place there. But don’t worry, they’ll come into play when needed. Just stick to the plan.”
Dr. Auburn paused, her mood shifting. “It’s your game, after all. Alright, I must go now, take care.”
Scarlett was very upset after hanging up. The information of infiltrated agents at Ava Roi Center bothered her, but she also knew this was all part of the bigger plan. She just had to play her role — cleverly!
A couple of days had passed, and Isabella Solaria was meeting with her attorney, Elias Fisher, inside a private room at the Washington Corrections Center for Women. Elias had already explained in detail the entire agreement with the Departments of Justice and Corrections. Though Isabella seemed satisfied, she was furious about the ‘straitjacket and barefoot’ requirements.
“…a fuckin’ manicomio! If Tato knows this, he’s gonna send someone to knock your door!” Isabella threatened, still nonconformist with the Ava Roi guideline.
“Mrs. Solaria, please. I thought we were clear on this. The brochures I gave you—”
Elias’s words were interrupted by three sharp knocks on the door. Two short-haired women entered the room, their tall and muscular frames commanding attention. They wore uniforms that clearly marked them as something other than the WCCW prison guards.
“Isabella Solaria?” one of them spoke. “My name is Officer Alexandra, and this is Officer Valor. We’re from the Ava Roi Podiatry Center. It’ll be our pleasure to escort you there.”
Instinctively, Isabella turned to Elias with a worried face. Her usual tough exterior seemed to be cracked. The attorney could see the apprehension in her eyes.
“You’ll be fine, Mrs. Solaria. Nothing to worry about,” Elias reassured her, though his own nerves betrayed him beneath a forced smile.
“Pff, why are you askin’ me that? This was my decisión,” Isabella replied back, regaining her composure. She raised her wrists, offering them up as if expecting handcuffs. “Okey, let’s go!”
“That won’t be necessary, Mrs. Solaria,” Officer Alexandra said calmly, her tone very polite. “We trust your cooperation. Please, follow us.”
Isabella hesitated for only a second before following the officers, masking any trace of anticipation. Elias watched her leave, still smiling, but the satisfaction of a well done job couldn’t quite chase away the anxiety in his chest.
Now, all that remained was to wait until Dr. Scarlett Auburn would work her magic, using an infernal arsenal of foot tickling techniques to break Isabella and uncover the location of her husband’s hidden billions in cash!
“Are we… heading down?” Isabella asked the officer in front of her with a nervous edge in her voice.
“Yes, we are. Clients arrive at the Center’s underground reception. We’ll take rapid transit directly from WCCW to Ava Roi,” Officer Alexandra replied.
“Like a metro? Right here?” Isabella asked, confused.
“Right… here,” Officer Alexandra confirmed, swiping her card. A heavy security door slid open, revealing an underground station. The place looked straight out of a sci-fi movie, with a futuristic automated train sat ready for transporting them to the Center.
The officers guided Isabella across the platform to a hallway lined with small changing rooms, leading her to a random one.
“Go inside and undress. Everything off, except your underwear. Let us know when you’re ready,” Officer Alexandra instructed.
Isabella moved in the cramped room like a ‘malandra’ — slouchy walk, defiant demeanor. She tried to look nonchalant, but humiliated fury started to consume her inside.
The inmate stripped off the prison uniform with angry movements, leaving only her bra, panties and socks on. In front of her, a pair of reddish pants hung on a wall rack. Isabella frowned, scanning the room, but found no other clothing.
“Really? Just this?” she asked the officers who stood silently with their backs turned outside the changing room. She then pulled on the new pants and slipped her feet back into the prison-issued shoes, though Elias had warned her about the barefoot requirement before boarding.
“Okey, yo creo… I’m ready.”
The officers turned to check Isabella from head to toe. “Now, face the wall and extend your arms,” Officer Alexandra commanded.
Isabella shot her a venomous glare, the muscles in her jaw clenching as she reluctantly obeyed. As she turned to face the wall, the officers shook their heads in disapproval at the sight of her still-covered feet.
With the corner of her eye, Isabella saw that Officer Valor held the infamous Ava Roi’s yellow straitjacket. She was breathing fire as the straps tightened around her upper body, the long sleeves crossed over her chest and fastened behind her back.
“Great. Now I’m a chava loca. Elias, you’re gonna pay for this. You too, putas!” Isabella threatened the officers, bubbling over with anger!
“Calm down, cariño,” Officer Alexandra said, tightening the straps with a grin. “It’s all for your own good. You can trust me.”
“FUCK YOU!!!” Isabella shouted, thrashing inside her new peculiar jacket.
“Easy, peligrosa! You know what, how about this…” without warning, Officer Alexandra pulled Isabella into a bear hug, signaling to her partner behind the inmate to finish the restraining.
“There, see? Nothing beats a hug! That’s all you need, care and affection!” Officer Alexandra said in a loud voice, keeping her embrace, while Officer Valor fastened a transport belt around Isabella’s waist.
“Feeling calmer now, cariño?” Officer Alexandra said in a gentle voice.
“Of course she does,” Officer Valor interjected. “She wouldn’t blow it now. Look at her… safe and comfy. Almost ready for departure.”
Isabella couldn’t talk, still processing the awkward hug. The officers moved her back into the hallway, where two WCCW guards were waiting. One collected her discarded uniform in the changing room, while the other stood in place, eyeing fixed on Isabella’s feet.
“When I told you to undress, I meant everything off, except your underwear. Yet here you are, still wearing shoes and socks,” Officer Alexandra said with menace in a playful voice. “Is there a problem showing those little toes, hm? Because if there is a problem... Well, that’s gonna be a big trouble for you!”
“Ohhh, I just thought I could keep them on!” Isabella said sarcastically. “Okey, go ahead. Take off my shoes. Diviértete! A foot massage would be great, too!”
“You like playin’ the tough girl, don’t you? Well, this act ain’t workin’ no more!” Officer Valor said, a little out of hand.
The officers firmly held the inmate between them, while the WCCW guards worked on her feet. Her ankles were cuffed first, with a chain connecting the legcuffs to the transport belt. One of the guards moved behind Isabella and stepped on the ankles restraint, preventing any lower body movement.
The other WCCW guard kneeled down and began removing the inmate’s slip-on shoes. The socks peeled away next, exposing Isabella’s bare feet to the cold air of the underground station.
The attention on her feet had always been very arousing for Isabella, even from women. But this situation dragged her back to memories she tried to forget.
Once, being barefoot was a sign of poverty. Often, she was laughed at by the police as she fled, trying to steal shoes. But all that changed when she met Tato Solaria. With him came luxury, power, and a ‘newfound appreciation’ for her bare feet.
Even hateful, Isabella masked her feelings by joking with the women around her.
“No rub? No kisses? I know you pendejas love patas de chingonas like mine! Venga, my feet are gettin’ cold already.”
“Hehe… your feet will be nice and warm soon,” Officer Alexandra mocked, her hand resting on Isabella’s shoulders. “Let’s just say, you won’t be needing shoes anymore. Twenty-four seven barefooting! But don’t worry! The Center floors are heated and squeaky clean. Well, most of the time you’ll be sitting pretty while the staff tends to your feet. Understood?”
“Guauu! How humane, güey! Keepin’ me locked barefoot like a esclava!” Isabella said, making clear she wasn’t backing down!
Contrasting with the calm and focused figure of her partner Alexandra, Officer Valor was more and more annoyed by Isabella’s attitude. She decided to teach the Mexican lady a quick lesson.
“Ya’ll gonna dig the place! And look at those pretty feet of yours! Why’re you tryin’ to hide ’em? Doesn’t it feel nice? Barefoot in this cozy jacket, not worryin’ about washin’ dirty money or dodgin’ sicarios? With us keepin’ ya protected?” Officer Valor teased, winking at the guard holding Isabella’s discarded shoes and socks.
The kneeling guard nodded back, understanding Officer Valor’s signal. She launched a foot tickle attack, using her fingernails to scratch Isabella’s vulnerable arches.
“HEY!!! YAHAHARGHH!!! MALDITA PERRAAARRGH!!!” Isabella reacted violently.
“No, no, no! Hey! Cut it off! What’re you doing?” Officer Alexandra intervened, her authoritative voice putting an immediate stop to the guard’s misconduct.
The WCCW guard chuckled when stood up, waving Isabella’s socks teasingly, as if they were a trophy.
Isabella was furious. “COBARDE!!! TE MATO!!!” But she was contained between the two strong officers.
“ENOUGH!!!” Officer Alexandra shouted, firmly holding Isabella in place.
The muscles of Isabella’s legs tensed with the urge to kick, but all immobilization held her still. She clenched her eyes shut, breathing hard as she fought back all rage inside. There was no escape. She had no choice but to endure it. “Solo un año y estaré fuera!” she reminded herself.
“That’s it! We’ll take her from here. We’ll be back later for the next inmate.” Officer Alexandra told the WCCW guards as they left.
“Well, time to board then!” Officer Valor announced, pleased with what had just happened!
The trio made their way toward the platform.
“Sorry, Isabella, these guards aren’t trained for this. Here, nice, isn’t it?” Officer Alexandra remarked as they entered the automated train, referring to its heated floor. “Just like the floors at Ava Roi. You’ll get so used barefooting there! Now, please, cariño. Sit down here.”
After securing Isabella in the central seat and buckling her in, both officers took their places on either side of the inmate, keeping a close eye on their ‘passenger’.
The railcar doors slid shut with a mechanical hum, and the ride began.
Isabella Solaria was finally en route to the place that would change her life forever — blindsided by the very choice she thought was hers.
Download the PDF version here: https://mega.nz/file/u5pGna7R#0tLUSztmv2sP_nGelFm0n5vG6dTTxxZw9iL4pM4KoDI
Caution: The following content - a pure work of fiction - may contain elements that are not suitable for all audiences. Viewer discretion is advised!
UNDERFOOT CONSPIRACY - PART I
by dtka66
It was 2:17 p.m. — the attorney Elias Fisher couldn’t stop shaking his legs. The air conditioning of his modern industrial style law office wasn’t cooling enough. He loved the place, but that day he felt stuffy there. Perhaps the plan was just too much for him. The thought pounded in his mind.
Once again, he checked his cell phone. Its screen lit up — 2:18 p.m.
“Fuck, c’mon! Where’re you, Judge?”
He took a deep breath, looking at the sweeping view of downtown Phoenix in an attempt to soothe his nerves.
“HAAAHAHAGHAH P-PLEASEEEE STOOOOPGAHAH!!!”
Elias’s attention shifted back to his laptop. A live stream from the Department of Corrections website was showing a short-haired inmate strapped down in a restraint chair. Two female guards were tickling her immobilized bare feet. Their long nails moved quickly on her vulnerable oily soles.
The poor woman was laughing too loud in Elias’ earphones, but he didn’t seem to mind. The attorney leaned back, scratching the chair’s armrest with his index finger, mimicking the nail movements of the guards.
“That’s it, Ms. Duncan. Laugh for me! I’m glad you accepted my counsel. Just five years left… Hm, yeah! Keep ticklin’ my client, ladies!”
The live stream was his guilty pleasure, the best choice as he waited for the call. Elias was entranced, watching with delight as his former client begged the guards to stop the ticklish torment.
When his attention was fully absorbed by the footage, the cell phone buzzed on the desk, breaking the intimate moment. He looked at the screen — ‘Unknown Caller’. He let it buzz once more, pulled off his earphones, and picked up.
“Finally!” His voice sounded relieved.
On the other end, a calm female voice spoke. “The cards are on the table. My guy is talking to your secretary in the next room right now. He’ll leave the files with her.”
“Good,” Elias’s eyes still on the muted screen as the inmate squirmed under the punishing foot tickle. “I’m gonna see my client now.”
“Go, and remember… Everything’s in place,” the female voice continued, her words sounding more serious. “Your next move is crucial. Don’t make any mistakes!”
“Rest assured, consider it done!” he replied, trying to sound like an expert.
“Very well,” the mysterious judge said coldly. “We’ll talk soon.”
The line went dead.
Elias set the cell phone down, his fingers resting on it for a moment, longer than necessary. His laptop screen showed that the foot tickling session was on break, his former client reduced to exhausted gasps and spasms. He turned off the monitor and stood up, buttoning his suit jacket with shaky hands.
“Don’t stress. I’ll succeed no matter what!” he sighed.
The attorney straightened his back, striding purposeful as he left the room. His secretary smiled when she handed him the folder with the aforementioned files. He grabbed it and gave her a gentle nod. Elias stepped out of the building, the bustling noise of downtown Phoenix made him miss the loud laughter of Ms. Duncan.
The drive to Phoenix federal prison was silent, the Arizona landscape flashing past his black BMW. He kept his focus ahead, mentally preparing himself for the conversation he was about to have. This case was different. Powerful people and a lot of cash involved. Elias knew his client had to believe him. The plan had to work!
———
The visitation room of FCI Phoenix seemed like a small desert bunker, with two fluorescent lights casting a harsh glow over a single metallic table and two folding chairs. In contrast to the lifeless interior, a very attractive Mexican woman was sitting at the table, her black eyes fixed on the room’s door. The nametag read — Isabella Solaria. Her long raven hair slid down her back. The curves of her naturally tanned tattooed body stood out, even in the drab prison-issued uniform.
Isabella was tapping a pair of slip-on shoes — size 7 — impatiently. Just as she was about to call for someone to escort her back to the cell block, the door swung open. A female guard glared at the inmate. “You got a visitor, Solaria.”
Isabella glared back, giving the middle finger of her cuffed hands. Elias Fisher entered the room, faking an exhausted look. He signaled to the guard, who closed the door behind him.
“Mrs. Solaria. How’re you doing? I’m so sorry for being late!”
“You don’t look good!” the inmate replied surprised.
“Sorry, it’s been a hell of a day! I’ve been working non-stop on your case. I just came from a long meeting with the judges and—”
“Por Dios! Enough! My case… how bad is it?”
“Yes, ahem, well… I managed to negotiate a plea deal for a more lenient sentence... Fifteen years in prison is what I got…”
“Qué? FIFTEEN YEARS!!! EN TU CULO!!!” Isabella yelled at Elias, banging her hands on the table.
“Mrs. Solaria, be reasonable. If you go to trial, given the charges, you could get twice that, maybe more!”
“For me, es lo mismo! Fifteen. Thirty. Sixty. FUCK! A LA MIERDA ESTO!!! You know what? YOU’RE FIRED!!! I’ll make some calls and… you’ll see!”
Outside the room, in the corridor, the guard who had glared at Isabella moments ago, smirked sadistically upon hearing the screams inside. Meanwhile, Elias pressed on.
“Mrs. Solaria, please! Your husband is locked up for life. The cartel’s gone. You’re a target out there. But you’re young. I could still get you into witness protection if you decide to cooperate. The authorities are very interested in the whereabouts of the cartel financial assets, and—”
“TE LO DIJE UN MILLÓN DE VECES!!! The money’s buried all over the border, BUT I DON’T KNOW WHERE!!!” Isabella yelled angrily again, but then tried to calm herself down. “Listen, Elias, you’ve helped me before. You need to fix this! You know these people. I’ll work with the federales, okey? But first, I need to get out of here!”
“Well, there is one more option… but I’m not sure if you’ll agree...”
“Elias, dime! I’m in deep shit!”
“Well… a federal judge, a really close friend, can help. But you’d have to agree to be transferred to a therapeutic center. She can pull some strings and cut your jail time… very significantly.”
“Therapeutic center? Are you sendin’ me to a fuckin’ manicomio?”
“Oh no, no! It’s the Ava Roi Podiatry Center, up in Washington state. Many of my clients have come out there completely transformed!”
“Podiatry? Qué? They’ll give me pedicuras? Qué mierda es esto? Oh, you wanna send me to these cárceles de cosquillas! No fuckin’ way, HIJUEPUTA!!!” Isabella shouted, leaning back on the folding chair wildly.
Elias leaned in, adjusting his tie, locking eyes with his client.
“Mrs. Solaria, foot stimulation therapy is the current best option for women avoiding our outdated incarceration system. This judge… is a huge enthusiast of this method. Our foot-tickle prisons can be tough, I must admit. But Ava Roi is different! It’s a great opportunity for your case! Here, I brought some brochures.”
Isabella was red with anger. Her first instinct was to tell Elias to go fuck himself again, but she hesitated. The inmate shook her head. However, she started to think twice about the proposal.
Elias, seizing the moment, looked down at Isabella’s slip-on shoes and decided to push on. “May I ask you, Mrs. Solaria… Do you mind having your feet touched?”
The question froze Isabella! A stark reminder of her husband, the feared drug lord Tato Solaria, known as “La Lengua”, popped into her mind. Tato was completely obsessed with Isabella’s bare feet. Hours of foot worship, followed by hot and wild lovemaking. Anyone who dared mock Tato’s foot fetish faced the brutal methods of his cartel. And Isabella loved it! It made her feel powerful, with the world — and specially men — literally at her feet. But now, in prison, she missed that feeling, that power, and the unique foot care.
“N-no sé qué… I-I mean… Fuck you! You really have the balls to ask me this!”
“Mrs. Solaria, I understand your concern. But these foot stimulation therapies actually yield results—”
“FUCK YOU!!!” Isabella screamed angrily, giving Elias both middle fingers.
“Alright, Mrs. Solaria. I know it’s a big decision. Just consider the Ava Roi Center option, okay? Because if you don’t, I can’t offer anything better than fifteen years in prison. But at the Center, you’d serve only... one year! Okay? Think it over, I’ll be back soon…”
“Wait, wait, wait… Qué? One year? You mean, just one year in this Centro?”
Elias, who had already turned to leave, smirked. Isabella was about to bite the hook, and the attorney was assured his client didn’t even feel trapped!
“Exactly! One year as an official client at the Ava Roi Podiatry Center. Take a look at the brochures! Does it look like a prison to you?” the attorney said confidently.
“Just one year in this place… Cuál es la trampa? You can’t be serious?”
The attorney pulled up his folding chair and sat down beside Isabella, his voice calm and persuasive.
“You know you can’t go back to Mexico because of the cartels. Soon you’ll be an American citizen. We want to help you turn your life around. Keeping you away from criminal activities. This could be your chance for a fresh start. So, what do you say?”
Elias knew that her client was driven by the thought of freedom.
“They’ll give me terapia de foot tickles… That’s it, for a whole year? And I’ll be free?” Isabella asked, rocking back and forth on her feet, completely distracted by the idea of spending a very short sentence, while receiving a therapy she thought silly.
“Listen,” the attorney kept with his persuasive skills. “The Center educates specialists in foot stimulation techniques. You’ll be a client, just like many other women with legal problems. Some even volunteer there. They pay well too. I know it sounds odd at first, but it changes lives! You don’t have to decide right now. Just think it over, alright? I’ll be back—”
“No, wait!” Isabella interrupted Elias. She was silent for a moment, biting her lips before lowering her eyes to her sockless feet inside the slip-on shoes.
“Okey... I agree. Send me to the fuckin’ Center, órale. That’s my final decision.” Isabella said, giving Elias a serious look.
“Mrs. Solaria, trust me. It’s the right choice! A year will fly by. You’ll see how effective foot stimulation therapy is. I bet you’re not even... cosquilluda, eh? Hehe!”
A strange smile appeared on Isabella’s face, as she licked her meaty upper lip.
“Wanna test it? Here, tickle my foot…”
Unexpectedly, the inmate shook her right foot until the shoe fell off, landing abruptly on the floor. Elias was completely disconcerted. His cheeks flushed red, while he clenched his jaw, fighting to maintain composure. Isabella, on the other hand, knew exactly how powerful her barefoot could be when it came to men.
“Mrs. Solaria, p-please. My intention wasn’t—”
“Shhhhh… on your knees, güero.”
Elias hesitated for a moment, but gave in and kneeled before her. He gently held her foot by the heel. It was soft and warm — the sole was pinkish hue, with elegant and pronounced high-arched, leading up to shapely toes. Her big toe stood slightly apart, its plumpness dominating the other toes, which initiated a perfect descending line until the pinky toe.
The view and smell tempted Elias in ways he couldn’t resist.
The attorney swallowed hard. He raised his hand to start tickling his client’s smooth foot sole, but Isabella wouldn’t let that happen. She kicked his hand away and pressed the ball of her foot firmly against his forehead.
“Tongue out and lick my foot, cowboy. Then I’ll sign your papers.”
Elias, completely surrendered by the situation, parted his lips, his tongue extending toward Isabella’s pink heel… just when the door swung open.
“Alright, time’s up. You two need to… WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING HERE?!?!”
The female guard shouted out, her voice filled the visitation room. Elias stood up quickly, trying to hide the bulge in his pants. His face flushed with embarrassment.
“Err… okay, Mrs. Solaria. Ahem… I just need your signature here, and… here, and I can transfer you right away.”
Isabella twirled the pen around her fingers, before signing the papers with a deliberate slowness, never breaking eye contact with the guard. Once done, she leaned back and propped her feet up on the table, one foot still bare.
“Hurry it up, Elias! I don’t want to see this cabrona any more!”
“I’m on it. I’m glad we’ve reached a decision, Mrs. Solaria. See you soon!”
Elias passed the guard quickly, his eyes glued to the floor.
“Hey, diabla!” Isabella in a snotty tone to the guard. “Take me back to my cell. I’m leaving this shit!”
The inmate stood up, slipping her foot back into the discarded shoe. The guard, still shocked by what she had walked in on, wordlessly released the chains on Isabella’s handcuffs, escorting her back to the cell block.
———
It was 8:50 p.m. The sun dipped below the horizon, while the bright moonlight began to illuminate the rolling hills surrounding the Ava Roi Podiatry Center complex. A pleasant breeze carried the scent of pine needles and damp earth through the open window of one of the luxurious staff suites.
Sitting on the edge of her plush bed fitted for a queen, a comfort reserved only for research doctors — after hours of tireless work pushing the boundaries of female foot ticklishness — Dr. Scarlett Auburn was finally kicking off her high heels.
“Oww! My feet are killing me!” she groaned, rubbing her high-arched size 9 feet.
Scarlett grabbed a handheld massager and began working it into her tired soles. “Mmm, this feels so good!” she moaned, eyes closing in relief. Images of the female subjects under her supervision flashed through her mind, their soles squirming helplessly through the unique foot tickling procedures of Ava Roi.
As the doctor worked the massager with one hand, she used the other hand to start unbuttoning her shirt, leaving just her bra on. Her wavy red hair almost brushed against her plump breasts as it fell over the sides of her shoulders.
A few minutes passed. The massager was working wonders, when the relaxing moment was interrupted by her phone buzzing on the bedside table. She stretched to grab it. The screen read, ‘Unknown Caller’.
She turned off the massager, lying cozily in the bed before picking up the phone.
“I suppose this is a safe line, and it’s my turn now,” she said, her voice playful.
“You should receive the package in a few days. She’s already in transit. Seems like your… boyfriend… pulled it off,” the mysterious Judge replied.
“I told you there wouldn’t be any issues,” Dr. Auburn said smugly.
“Well, I hear he got distracted by his client’s foot charm,” the Judge continued with a more serious tone. “Gossip spreads fast in our circles. He’s lucky I had the CCTV turned off. You know how embarrassing slips can be. You assured me he was ready.”
“Aww, I would’ve loved to have seen that. Well, he made it happen! What can I say, the guy is passionate about his work!” Scarlett laughed, trying to ease the tension.
“He’d be more useful if he don’t make mistakes. I expect better. We can’t risk this because of him. Otherwise… You know what’s gonna happen to him…”
“I do. Well, he is... expendable. I assume you told him to get back to work, handle other cases normally. Right now, he’s probably jerking off watching live streams of his clients! I still haven’t forgiven you for making me cozy up to that loser. At least he pulled through. I’m always right about my trainees.”
The Judge chuckled. “Hehehe… That’s why I’m head over heels for you!”
“We’ll get what we’re after soon. Then we can make up for lost time!” Scarlett said with a sexy voice.
“Indeed, my dear… So, how long until the package breaks?” the Judge asked.
“You tell me. Want me to speed things up?”
“Please do.”
“As you wish, ‘milady’.”
“One more thing. I’ve got people in place there. But don’t worry, they’ll come into play when needed. Just stick to the plan.”
Dr. Auburn paused, her mood shifting. “It’s your game, after all. Alright, I must go now, take care.”
Scarlett was very upset after hanging up. The information of infiltrated agents at Ava Roi Center bothered her, but she also knew this was all part of the bigger plan. She just had to play her role — cleverly!
———
A couple of days had passed, and Isabella Solaria was meeting with her attorney, Elias Fisher, inside a private room at the Washington Corrections Center for Women. Elias had already explained in detail the entire agreement with the Departments of Justice and Corrections. Though Isabella seemed satisfied, she was furious about the ‘straitjacket and barefoot’ requirements.
“…a fuckin’ manicomio! If Tato knows this, he’s gonna send someone to knock your door!” Isabella threatened, still nonconformist with the Ava Roi guideline.
“Mrs. Solaria, please. I thought we were clear on this. The brochures I gave you—”
Elias’s words were interrupted by three sharp knocks on the door. Two short-haired women entered the room, their tall and muscular frames commanding attention. They wore uniforms that clearly marked them as something other than the WCCW prison guards.
“Isabella Solaria?” one of them spoke. “My name is Officer Alexandra, and this is Officer Valor. We’re from the Ava Roi Podiatry Center. It’ll be our pleasure to escort you there.”
Instinctively, Isabella turned to Elias with a worried face. Her usual tough exterior seemed to be cracked. The attorney could see the apprehension in her eyes.
“You’ll be fine, Mrs. Solaria. Nothing to worry about,” Elias reassured her, though his own nerves betrayed him beneath a forced smile.
“Pff, why are you askin’ me that? This was my decisión,” Isabella replied back, regaining her composure. She raised her wrists, offering them up as if expecting handcuffs. “Okey, let’s go!”
“That won’t be necessary, Mrs. Solaria,” Officer Alexandra said calmly, her tone very polite. “We trust your cooperation. Please, follow us.”
Isabella hesitated for only a second before following the officers, masking any trace of anticipation. Elias watched her leave, still smiling, but the satisfaction of a well done job couldn’t quite chase away the anxiety in his chest.
Now, all that remained was to wait until Dr. Scarlett Auburn would work her magic, using an infernal arsenal of foot tickling techniques to break Isabella and uncover the location of her husband’s hidden billions in cash!
———
“Are we… heading down?” Isabella asked the officer in front of her with a nervous edge in her voice.
“Yes, we are. Clients arrive at the Center’s underground reception. We’ll take rapid transit directly from WCCW to Ava Roi,” Officer Alexandra replied.
“Like a metro? Right here?” Isabella asked, confused.
“Right… here,” Officer Alexandra confirmed, swiping her card. A heavy security door slid open, revealing an underground station. The place looked straight out of a sci-fi movie, with a futuristic automated train sat ready for transporting them to the Center.
The officers guided Isabella across the platform to a hallway lined with small changing rooms, leading her to a random one.
“Go inside and undress. Everything off, except your underwear. Let us know when you’re ready,” Officer Alexandra instructed.
Isabella moved in the cramped room like a ‘malandra’ — slouchy walk, defiant demeanor. She tried to look nonchalant, but humiliated fury started to consume her inside.
The inmate stripped off the prison uniform with angry movements, leaving only her bra, panties and socks on. In front of her, a pair of reddish pants hung on a wall rack. Isabella frowned, scanning the room, but found no other clothing.
“Really? Just this?” she asked the officers who stood silently with their backs turned outside the changing room. She then pulled on the new pants and slipped her feet back into the prison-issued shoes, though Elias had warned her about the barefoot requirement before boarding.
“Okey, yo creo… I’m ready.”
The officers turned to check Isabella from head to toe. “Now, face the wall and extend your arms,” Officer Alexandra commanded.
Isabella shot her a venomous glare, the muscles in her jaw clenching as she reluctantly obeyed. As she turned to face the wall, the officers shook their heads in disapproval at the sight of her still-covered feet.
With the corner of her eye, Isabella saw that Officer Valor held the infamous Ava Roi’s yellow straitjacket. She was breathing fire as the straps tightened around her upper body, the long sleeves crossed over her chest and fastened behind her back.
“Great. Now I’m a chava loca. Elias, you’re gonna pay for this. You too, putas!” Isabella threatened the officers, bubbling over with anger!
“Calm down, cariño,” Officer Alexandra said, tightening the straps with a grin. “It’s all for your own good. You can trust me.”
“FUCK YOU!!!” Isabella shouted, thrashing inside her new peculiar jacket.
“Easy, peligrosa! You know what, how about this…” without warning, Officer Alexandra pulled Isabella into a bear hug, signaling to her partner behind the inmate to finish the restraining.
“There, see? Nothing beats a hug! That’s all you need, care and affection!” Officer Alexandra said in a loud voice, keeping her embrace, while Officer Valor fastened a transport belt around Isabella’s waist.
“Feeling calmer now, cariño?” Officer Alexandra said in a gentle voice.
“Of course she does,” Officer Valor interjected. “She wouldn’t blow it now. Look at her… safe and comfy. Almost ready for departure.”
Isabella couldn’t talk, still processing the awkward hug. The officers moved her back into the hallway, where two WCCW guards were waiting. One collected her discarded uniform in the changing room, while the other stood in place, eyeing fixed on Isabella’s feet.
“When I told you to undress, I meant everything off, except your underwear. Yet here you are, still wearing shoes and socks,” Officer Alexandra said with menace in a playful voice. “Is there a problem showing those little toes, hm? Because if there is a problem... Well, that’s gonna be a big trouble for you!”
“Ohhh, I just thought I could keep them on!” Isabella said sarcastically. “Okey, go ahead. Take off my shoes. Diviértete! A foot massage would be great, too!”
“You like playin’ the tough girl, don’t you? Well, this act ain’t workin’ no more!” Officer Valor said, a little out of hand.
The officers firmly held the inmate between them, while the WCCW guards worked on her feet. Her ankles were cuffed first, with a chain connecting the legcuffs to the transport belt. One of the guards moved behind Isabella and stepped on the ankles restraint, preventing any lower body movement.
The other WCCW guard kneeled down and began removing the inmate’s slip-on shoes. The socks peeled away next, exposing Isabella’s bare feet to the cold air of the underground station.
The attention on her feet had always been very arousing for Isabella, even from women. But this situation dragged her back to memories she tried to forget.
Once, being barefoot was a sign of poverty. Often, she was laughed at by the police as she fled, trying to steal shoes. But all that changed when she met Tato Solaria. With him came luxury, power, and a ‘newfound appreciation’ for her bare feet.
Even hateful, Isabella masked her feelings by joking with the women around her.
“No rub? No kisses? I know you pendejas love patas de chingonas like mine! Venga, my feet are gettin’ cold already.”
“Hehe… your feet will be nice and warm soon,” Officer Alexandra mocked, her hand resting on Isabella’s shoulders. “Let’s just say, you won’t be needing shoes anymore. Twenty-four seven barefooting! But don’t worry! The Center floors are heated and squeaky clean. Well, most of the time you’ll be sitting pretty while the staff tends to your feet. Understood?”
“Guauu! How humane, güey! Keepin’ me locked barefoot like a esclava!” Isabella said, making clear she wasn’t backing down!
Contrasting with the calm and focused figure of her partner Alexandra, Officer Valor was more and more annoyed by Isabella’s attitude. She decided to teach the Mexican lady a quick lesson.
“Ya’ll gonna dig the place! And look at those pretty feet of yours! Why’re you tryin’ to hide ’em? Doesn’t it feel nice? Barefoot in this cozy jacket, not worryin’ about washin’ dirty money or dodgin’ sicarios? With us keepin’ ya protected?” Officer Valor teased, winking at the guard holding Isabella’s discarded shoes and socks.
The kneeling guard nodded back, understanding Officer Valor’s signal. She launched a foot tickle attack, using her fingernails to scratch Isabella’s vulnerable arches.
“HEY!!! YAHAHARGHH!!! MALDITA PERRAAARRGH!!!” Isabella reacted violently.
“No, no, no! Hey! Cut it off! What’re you doing?” Officer Alexandra intervened, her authoritative voice putting an immediate stop to the guard’s misconduct.
The WCCW guard chuckled when stood up, waving Isabella’s socks teasingly, as if they were a trophy.
Isabella was furious. “COBARDE!!! TE MATO!!!” But she was contained between the two strong officers.
“ENOUGH!!!” Officer Alexandra shouted, firmly holding Isabella in place.
The muscles of Isabella’s legs tensed with the urge to kick, but all immobilization held her still. She clenched her eyes shut, breathing hard as she fought back all rage inside. There was no escape. She had no choice but to endure it. “Solo un año y estaré fuera!” she reminded herself.
“That’s it! We’ll take her from here. We’ll be back later for the next inmate.” Officer Alexandra told the WCCW guards as they left.
“Well, time to board then!” Officer Valor announced, pleased with what had just happened!
The trio made their way toward the platform.
“Sorry, Isabella, these guards aren’t trained for this. Here, nice, isn’t it?” Officer Alexandra remarked as they entered the automated train, referring to its heated floor. “Just like the floors at Ava Roi. You’ll get so used barefooting there! Now, please, cariño. Sit down here.”
After securing Isabella in the central seat and buckling her in, both officers took their places on either side of the inmate, keeping a close eye on their ‘passenger’.
The railcar doors slid shut with a mechanical hum, and the ride began.
Isabella Solaria was finally en route to the place that would change her life forever — blindsided by the very choice she thought was hers.
To be continued.
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