It was dark when she woke and the drug-induced confusion that scrambled her mind kept her quiet for several moments while she tried to assess where she was. She knew she was lying on something cold and metal and when she tried to lift her arm she discovered that it was tightly strapped down. As her senses awakened, she also realized she was naked, a discovery that caused her no small amount of concern. She considered calling out but realized that it would no doubt draw her captor and so she tested her bonds. Both arms were secure, tied down tightly by her sides. Worse, her bare legs were spread and elevated, locked in to some sort of metal ankle cuff that prevented her from moving or twisting. She pulled as hard as she could but nothing budged and she made a growling sound of irritation.
There was a sound in the distance and she turned alarmed eyes toward it. A beam of light split through the murk and Karen realized that a heavy door had been opened. Bright sunlight streamed through the doorway, illuminating a dark figure that disappeared again as the door closed behind. Spots danced in front of Karen's eyes. She heard the footsteps approach and she tensed, knowing what was about to happen, yet still hoping it wasn't. She closed her eyes and then jumped as she felt a soft touch on her right foot.
It was everything she could do to stay still as masculine fingers caressed her sole, stroking the arch softly. The touch tingled, barely on the verge of tickling, but staying more in the realm of massage. The fingers traced her toes and the heel, swirling around exploring every facet of her foot. As he touched her the sensation became too much and she tightened her foot, twisting it in the ankle restraint, forcing his fingers away. There was silence for a moment and she opened her eyes.
"What the fuck are you doing?" She demanded. A small beam of light appeared, focused not on her face, but on her feet. She could clearly see the bright shiny steel restraints welded to the table and ending in circular attachments, the inside covered in fur, that held her legs up. To her astonishment, she realized that her legs weren't spread apart. She looked past her bondage toward her captor, disturbed to see a black shirt and a black balaclava. Did she know him? Why hide his identity? On the flip side it made it more likely that she would survive her captivity. Would he rape her? She trembled at the thought.
He moved into the darkness and Karen heard the sounds of bottles clinking and he reappeared. A small bottle was in his hand and he held it up, pouring it over the toes of her left foot. She twitched as the warm fluid spilled down over the top and bottom of her foot. The bottle disappeared and his hands were touching her again, rubbing the oil into her skin, caressing the full length, from heel to toe. Karen couldn't help closing her eyes, the soft touch and massage, working into her skin felt incredible. Oily hands moved to the other side, caressing, touching, feeling. He worked his fingers between her toes, causing her to giggle slightly.
The movement of his fingers became more rapid, swirling across the bottoms of her feet, caressing the edges and the arch. She couldn't help reacting and in moments the sensations he was causing turned from pleasure to tickling. She laughed out loud, trying desperately to pull away.
"Please! Stop! That tickles!" She screamed, but he continued, causing her to twist and pull on her bonds. The table didn't even rock as she struggled, laughter boiling out of her as he tormented her soles. Just as she felt she would no longer be able to take it the tickling stopped and he stepped back into the darkness. She lay gasping on the table, her mind fluttering from the diabolical yet humorous torment. Her feet tingled and she slowly caught her breath. She didn't even notice him return until she felt the sharp pinpricks on her right foot. She jumped, pulling back, tightening the arch of her foot but that did little to stop him. She could see the small pinwheel flashing in the light as he rolled it around. It drove her crazy, the little pin pricks, never too deep, never too light, just enough to set her nerves afire. He moved to the other foot, repeating his actions until she was twitching.
"Why are you doing this to me?" She demanded again as he stopped, once more caressing her with his hands. "Leave my feet alone! If you're going to rape me just do it!" Karen yelled, too overcome from the torment of her soles. There was no reply but he disappeared into the darkness again. The sound of buzzing seemed to roar in her ears and he was suddenly by her side, a large motorized massage tool with a round head was held in his hands. He still didn't speak but placed it between her legs, the vibrating tip pressed against her clit. Karen gasped, totally shocked, her body suddenly overwhelmed with the pleasure. Her fear at what was happening merely added to the sensation and she felt the beginnings of an orgasm. A tearing sound filled her ears and a length of duct tape went across her thighs, ostensibly holding the massager in place. But then her captor went back to her feet.
He began tickling her once again, rapidly, his fingers gliding through the oil across the arch, the balls of her feet, even the toes. It was if he were a piano virtuoso, his hands playing her as she struggled to breath between fits of laughter, her clit exploding in paroxysms of sensuality. Her mind began to shut down and she screamed into the darkness. Just as she came he stopped, switching back to the spiked pinwheel. It's pricking movements made her jump but she was still in the process of climaxing and the tiny spikes merely intensified her orgasm into something divine.
Karen lay there, her body still dealing with the residual spasms of the massager between her legs. He hadn't bothered to remove it. Two more times he had caressed her. Two more times he had let her orgasm. She wondered when he would let her go or if he would still rape her. The darkness filled the room and he brought the bottle of oil back to her feet. There would be a third time, and maybe even a fourth.
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