How did things end up like this?
That single thought was all Abby could manage to conjure up as she lay there, chained and straitjacketed as she was to the hard steel table, impatiently awaiting the punishment she had grown so accustomed to receiving lately. She had been on her way to her first visit as a prisoner at a foot tickling prison for women. Abby had been reported by her boss for simply taking her heels off at work and walking around barefoot. One thing had led to another and now Abby was here tied up in a very tight straitjacket with her bare feet chained together waiting to be tortured. Abby was writhing in her bonds trying to free herself until a nurse entered her cell. The nurse placed a pair of mechanical arms on her feet that were equipped with automated brushes, circular saw style, and lines of lubricant to keep her feet smooth and slippery. Given her life sentence, Abby’s bare feet were able to flex and twist on their own without restraint, the better to demonstrate to him how futile his attempts at resistance would be. The bristling buzzsaws dug into her high arches, grazing every bit of pale, quivering skin they could find.
Abby openly wept as her body shook with laughter, her cheeks flushing to match the color of her hair. She stared with trembling eyes at the evil device torturing her bare feet through a blurry film of flowing tears, her lungs heaving as she laughed against her will. She howled, screaming for mercy as she felt unable to summon remorse for anything she had said or done, the moans torn from her lips completely meaningless. Her toes flexed in hysterical protest at the sensations assaulting her sensitive feet, and she babbled almost meaninglessly between bursts of raucous laughter, desperately pleading for someone, anyone, to turn off the horrible brushes. Vile hypocrite that she was, Abby's plea was ignored by all, her tickling fate sealed forever.
That single thought was all Abby could manage to conjure up as she lay there, chained and straitjacketed as she was to the hard steel table, impatiently awaiting the punishment she had grown so accustomed to receiving lately. She had been on her way to her first visit as a prisoner at a foot tickling prison for women. Abby had been reported by her boss for simply taking her heels off at work and walking around barefoot. One thing had led to another and now Abby was here tied up in a very tight straitjacket with her bare feet chained together waiting to be tortured. Abby was writhing in her bonds trying to free herself until a nurse entered her cell. The nurse placed a pair of mechanical arms on her feet that were equipped with automated brushes, circular saw style, and lines of lubricant to keep her feet smooth and slippery. Given her life sentence, Abby’s bare feet were able to flex and twist on their own without restraint, the better to demonstrate to him how futile his attempts at resistance would be. The bristling buzzsaws dug into her high arches, grazing every bit of pale, quivering skin they could find.
Abby openly wept as her body shook with laughter, her cheeks flushing to match the color of her hair. She stared with trembling eyes at the evil device torturing her bare feet through a blurry film of flowing tears, her lungs heaving as she laughed against her will. She howled, screaming for mercy as she felt unable to summon remorse for anything she had said or done, the moans torn from her lips completely meaningless. Her toes flexed in hysterical protest at the sensations assaulting her sensitive feet, and she babbled almost meaninglessly between bursts of raucous laughter, desperately pleading for someone, anyone, to turn off the horrible brushes. Vile hypocrite that she was, Abby's plea was ignored by all, her tickling fate sealed forever.
