Rina’s Foot Box Pt. 01 – BDSM

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Rina had, once again, found herself strapped for cash. The savings she had made from her food delivery job had finally run out, and she wasn’t prepared to tell her roommate that she would miss her half of the rent. Technically her roommate could pay the rent in full, but Rina’s sense of morality simply wouldn’t allow it.

So, after perusing multiple job boards and complaining of her situation to a couple of her friends- not including her roommate- she found herself in quite the curious position;

Tucked away in the back of a BDSM club in a small room, Rina was laid on her back, wearing her ordinary every-day attire. Rina, however, was hardly in the small room. Most of her clothed body was tucked away in the interior of a cushioned wall that extended from the back of the room, opposite of the door. In her comfortable chamber of red cushions, a denim-shorts and yellow t-shirt clad Rina had her arms bound above her head, though not stretched out as to avoid strain. The chamber was also well-ventilated, not too hot or too cold, and contained a two-way microphone concealed from Rina’s sight that allowed her to communicate with the outside world. The one part of Rina that was in the room was her feet, clad in well-worn but clean yellow converse.

The pair, often the subject of any of Rina’s self-confidence issues, were what landed her this gig. Indeed, the club had arranged with her a whopping $100 dollars per hour for just sitting in this chamber. If any clients, which Rina had arranged that only women would be allowed, were to come play with her, that would be raised to $200 for the hour that the client was allotted in addition to her hourly pay. Usually the idea of her size 14 feet being played with would skeeve Rina out, but she wasn’t too worried. In her research, she had found only a few sapphics that had an affinity for the appendages, putting her mind at ease and giving her the confidence to take the gig.

However, Rina was bored, only being able to occupy her time with silly noises and idly waving her big feet around. However, it beat having her feet touched.

A light ‘bing’ went off in the chamber, like that of a department store door being opened, signifying to Rina that a client had just entered the room. Rina tensed up.

In the room, a woman in her early twenties, much like Rina, wearing a white sleeveless top tucked into dark, high-waisted pants, walked over to the comfortable chair placed in front of the table, upon which sat a cute box that was styled like a box that may hold an engagement ring, it’s wooden exterior painted a dark blue, it’s interior made up of lush red velvet cushioning two large, gorgeous jewels.

Taking her seat, not once taking her eyes off of the still shoes before her, Tara reached over to the left to flick a switch, activating the two-way microphone to talk to Rina. As soon as the microphone turned on, she heard nervous breathing from the other side. Though she liked her “victims” to be nervous to an extent, she preferred that they were a little prepared for the session.

“Hi there, my name’s Tara, and I’ll be with you for the next… two hours. And what’s your name, dearie?” Her voice was gentle, but teasing.

“Rina- I-I MEAN-“

“Oh don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”

“… Thank you.”

“Not a problem.”

Formalities exchanged, Tara began her delicate work. Carefully, she began unlacing Rina’s right shoe. With it loose, she slowly started taking it off, reveling in the sound of the canvas rubbing against the fabric of a fitting white cotton sock. After a good thirty seconds, the sight Tara was welcomed with was something to marvel; a large, slightly dirty, white athletic sock, awash with but a few wrinkles as their shy owner curled her toes, highlighted by a oval-shaped dirt marks. Wasting little time, Tara repeated the process on the left shoe with much less gravitas.

Tara beheld the sight before her. She was doubtful of the ad claiming that the feet were size 14, but those doubts were promptly dispelled by peeking at the tongue of the shoe she held in her left hand. Gingerly, she put the pair to the right, far enough away as to not be disturbed by them.

Sounds of altered breath could be heard from both sides of the room; Tara heard shorter, nervous breaths than before, and if Rina bothered to listen she would’ve heard the heavier breaths of a woman aroused.

Tara brought her pointer finger, tipped with a rounded nail painted in a clear veneer, to the ball of Rina’s right foot, her elbow resting on the table. She scratched, only a little, at the thick fabric.

A cascade of giggles poured from Rina’s mouth, into the microphone, and out of the high-quality speakers in the room. The adorable sound sent an army of butterflies into flight within Tara’s stomach. And the implications sent her mind abuzz; that sort of reaction from just a little scratch, in socks no less? What sort of sensitivity may the socks be protecting?

Carefully, Tara hooked her thumb and forefinger under the hem of Rina’s left sock, and gently tugged the cotton protector form it’s ward, turning it inside out. First the heel, soft and free from rough patches. Then the arches, not quite high or low. And finally the bubble-like toes, bare of polish, each one shorter than the last. They fanned as the sock was pulled from them, possibly surprised by the newfound freedom.

Rina’s soles were several shades lighter than her skin, and there was little to no blush present. There was, however, a bit of a sweat sheen.

Tara took a few more seconds to marvel, and repeated the process much faster with the other foot. Now, before her, like an artisan engagement ring composed of two great diamonds, were the bare feet of Rina. There were still, and Tara sensed that Rina was awash with anxiety for her coming sessions.

Unsure if it would settle or excite her fears, Tara brought all ten fingers just above Rina’s arches. A smile broke across the woman’s face as she saw Rina’s soles shake, as if Rina knew that there were ten talons above her feet.

Tara scrambled her nails all over the expansive peds, flicking from arches to heels to toes and back again in rapid movements, and she was met with a most gorgeous sound;

“YEAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHANONOHAHAHAHAHAHAHA”.

That sound. That gorgeous, gorgeous, sound, flowed like a stream. Tara, scribbling away at the soles beneath her, found herself enamored with the victim. She continued the relentless assault on the beautiful feet before her for one more minute, never staying in the same spot for more than a few seconds.

Tara stopped the tickling, however reluctantly. She didn’t want to scare Rina– she was only here to tickle her. She heard Rina catch her breath through the speakers.

“Heh… hehee… That was mean!” That last part was delivered with a bit of annoyance, though clearly Rina wasn’t too aggravated with Tara. Tara felt her smile grow even larger. Many ‘lees who asked for her services would be a little upset with her at this point. Though Tara was more than happy to accommodate them, a part of her all the time favored a method of rapid introduction to tickling.

“Oh sweetie, that was me playing nice. I’ll save my meanness for later.”

Tara went back to teasing, but much lighter now, only eliciting the occasional laugh or guffaw from her victim. Every now and then she would blow onto her feet, unleashing a stream of giggles and squeals from Rina,

“EHEHEEHEnohohohoho– EHEHEHEEP!”

Ten minutes of this, and Tara gave Rina another break, listening to the few deep breaths she took to recover.

“Well, Rina, I think “now” is “later”, don’t you?”

“I-I guess…”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle– at first”.

Tara did mean that. She’d hate to scare a newbie like Rina by diving straight into hardcore tickling. She started slow, much like her teasing but only faster and more precise, attacking the stems of her toes and then the tops of her toes once they curled. The box had toe ties, but Tara planned to use those later.

After several minutes of this, Tara offering the oh-so-ticklish Rina several short breaks, Tara stopped. She reached over to a cabinet in the wall’s extrusion and opened it, and before her were a variety of tickling accessories. However tempting they were, Tara reached for a bottle of unscented mineral oil. Putting the clear bottle on the top of the extrusion, she carefully opened up the bottle and poured a puddle of it into her awaiting left hand. She proceeded to rub the cool, clear liquid into her palms, and started rubbing Rina’s large, warm soles.

Rina squeaked, both from surprise and the chill of the oil, and Tara felt the feet cupped in her hands tense. Soon, though, Rina’s feet relaxed and she occasionally let out a soft moan when Tara rubbed a somewhat tense spot. Rina would also squeak or squeal if Tara wasn’t too firm with her massage, but Tara tried her best to avoid that.

Once the soles and toes were sufficiently massaged and slick with oil, Tara removed her hands, gave the feet a pat, and resumed her teasings. Now twice as sensitive as before, Rina released a flurry of laughter;

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHANONOHOHOHOHOHO–“

A sly grin broke out across Tara’s face. This was one of her favorite things about tickling– pampering a ‘lee, only to brutalize them with gargalesis.

Tara spent only a few minutes on this round of teasing, pulling her fingers away so Rina could rest and she could dry off her hands. As she checked her phone, showing that she had well over an hour left in her session, she heard Rina make some amusing noises on the other end of the mic.

“Haha… woooooo, you’re good at this!”

Tara pursed her lips into a smile. “I know”, she replied sweetly and sing-songly.

‘This girl’, Tara wondered, ‘Is the perfect ‘lee’.

Tara reached for the first true tickle tool of their session– a small, soft-bristled paintbrush. Tara lightly cursed herself for oiling Rina’s soles up so early, noticing a menagerie of feathers that came in a variety of shapes and textures, but she carried on. Bringing the prickly brush to the slick soles before her, Tara poked and prodded the pale valleys and dales, eliciting squeals and adorable “eeps!” from Rina. Prodding round the toes– stems, creases, and even more obscure spots like the sides of the toes and the usually abandoned little toes– produced similar results. Tara concluded that Rina’s feet were probably sensitive all over, no spot more so than the other. Even with this in mind, Tara paid special attention to the toes and balls of Rina’s feet. Feet were Tara’s favorite tickle spots, and throughout the few years of her exploration into her kink, Tara developed a certain bias towards toes. They were usually the most sensitive parts of a person’s feet, after all.

Tara placed the little brush down. Now, she had all of Rina’s feet mapped out, and had a pretty good idea of what would drive her “victim” crazy.

Now, she was ready for some real fun…

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