Dena and Marissa Spa Day - The Full Story (ff/m)

Postby kidnap boy » Sun Dec 13, 2009 7:49 am

I figured I would just post the whole story at once. It's quite long, and I know I've already posted Part One, but this seemed easier. Hope you like it.

I arrived one Friday night at Dena’s house to sleep over. I came in through the open front door and dropped by bag in the foyer.

"I'm down here, Jess!" Dena called to me. "Come on down!"

I took my jacket off and hung it in the upstairs closet. I was wearing a black t-shirt and sweatpants, with sneakers and socks. I walked down and Dena was on the couch watching TV with her feet up on the coffee table. She wore what she usually wore - a very pretty white short-sleeves blouse with puffy sleeves, grey cargo pants, and grey argyle socks. Naturally, she had her shoes off.

I sat down next to her and she gave me a hug and we watched TV for awhile. We talked a little her and there and then she shut off the TV, turned to me, and stunned me.

"I want to tie you up," Dena said, turning to me with the smile and folding her feet under her on the couch.

"You WHAT?!" I yelled, laughing nervously.

Now, I was not stunned at what she said - after all, Dena had tied me up so many times before, and yeah, I kinda loved it. But she never asked in this way, almost offering.

"It's time you had a fighting chance against me when I kidnap you. I'm going to tie you up and give you advice on how to escape, Dena said, putting her hand on my shoulder. "I think it'll make our games more fun if you have a chance!"

While saying that Dena sat up and grabbed my arms, pinning me on the couch. She sat over me, holding me down and laughing, as her beautiful blonde hair spilled forward and lightly touched my face. Dena giggled and giggled and I laughed too.

"Well then, I guess - WAIT! Are you going to torture me too?" I asked, as Dena kept pinning me down.

"Well, its not in my immediate plans," Dena said while using her knee to replace her right hand pinning one of my arms and with her free hand wiggled her fingers in my face, "though if you're not careful, some severe torture could be in the works!" She then laughed and tickled my ribs, just a little.

"OK OK!" I yelled, laughing and trying to defend against the tickling. "Do what you have to do!"

"Good choice, Jessie!" Dena said and bent her face down and kissed my cheek. That nearly made me melt whenever she did that. "Go downstairs to the workout room and get a chair and bring it up here. I'll be right back." With that Dena hopped to her feet and padded upstairs to her room to get, I guess, the ropes.

I went downstairs and got a smallish cushioned chair from the workout room, the kind that used to go with a kitchen table set. I brought it upstairs.

Dena bounded down the stairs with a duffel bag. She put in on the couch and grabbed several pieces of the soft white rope out of it she always used on me. They ranged in length from 4 feet to about 8 feet.

"Have a seat in the chair and take your shoes off," Dena told me. "Seriously, I think I'll just make it a rule from now on. You come in the house, you take off your shoes, just like I do."

"OK.OK," I said, kicking my sneakers off. "My socks too."

"No, no, you can keep your socks off. I only take your socks off when I'm planning to tickle your feet," Dena said with a laugh. For the moment I was relieved.

"OK, Jess, here we go. Put your hands behind your back," Dena said, and I did. She took about a 4-foot length, crouched behind me, and tied my hands behind my back as I sat in the chair. I felt her winding the rope around each wrist and then intertwining them, tying occasional knots, before going to work on tying the rope around both wrists and securing it with several bulky knots. Dena was an awesome knot-tie-er. This felt like one of her classic inescapable ones.

"Here, Jess. Don't try to get out just yet. Let's get you fully tied up first," Dena said, walking around to my front with a slightly longer piece of rope, crouching down in front me. "OK. Put your feet togetger, you know the drill."

I did and she took the rope and began to tie my feet together at the ankles. (Quick side note: I have to say there is something just so sexy about a woman in the process of tying you up.)

Dena said, "Boy, Jess, it's so weird when you don't fight me. I don't have to pin you or tickle you or footgag you or use karate or anything. This is strange!"

"I know!"" I said as she finished tying my feet very, very securely. "But if you're gonna teach me how to escape, it's worth it. And if I can avoid being tortured, well, let's do it."

“Well,” Dena said, picking up a longer piece of rope and coming back in front of me, “I can’t guarantee I can teach you how to escape, but I can teach you what I know. Hold still – I want to tie your legs to the chair.”

“You’ve never done that before,” I said as Dena approached me with the ropes.

“Hee hee,” Dena snickered, wrapping the ropes around my lap and under the chair. “That’s why I am a master kidnapper - you never know WHAT you’re going to get from Dena.”

Dena wrapped a whole 6-foot length of rope around my lap, knotting it occasionally, and then put her socked foot in my lap on top of the final knot, keeping it there while she tied it off. The way you would when tying a string around a package.

I decided to taunt a little. “You’re wearing those socks again? Don’t you own like 50 pairs? Why do you keep wearing them?”

Dena laughed, “I love these socks! I do have a lot of pairs, but only one like this – grey and blue argyle. Leave me alone!” She said and playfully swatted me, then raised her foot to my face. “Plus, you KNOW you love my socks, don’t you?!”

“Yeah, fine!” I laughed, moving my face away from her socked foot. “You win – they’re fine.”

“Good,” Dena said with a smile, laughing. “You know what I don’t get? Ankle socks. I hate them – the few times I’ve worn them they’ve always slipped off my feet. I mean, yeah, I’ll wear them when jogging or whatever. But I need knee socks or at least shin-level socks for everyday wear.”

“Well, if you ever wore shoes you might find they’ll stay on,” I teased while Dena went back to the bag for another length of rope.

“Ugh! I hate wearing shoes. And I really don’t like being barefoot too often. Walking around in socks is my favorite!” Dena said, standing in front of me and holding the length of rope. “OK, one last rope and I’ll be done tying you up. Then you can try and escape.”

Dena came behind me and tied the rope around my chest and around the back of the chair, doing the same thing she had done with my legs – looping and occasionally knotting. Finally she tied a bulky series of knots around back and then came in front to examine her handy work.

“Whew! This might be the best tying job I’ve ever done, Jess!” Dena said. “Your hands and feet are tied really secure, and you’re tied to the chair high and low. Wow. I should win an award for this!”

“Yeah, it’s pretty impressive. Can I start to try to get loose now” I asked.

“Sure, knock yourself out,’ Dena said, grabbing the duffel bag – which still had plenty of stuff in it – and placing it along side me to my right on the coffee table.

I started to flex my wrists and wriggle my feet and stuff, but nothing was budging. Dena was sitting back on the couch, thumbing through a magazine with her feet up.

“Having a hard time?” she asked, not looking up.

“Yeah. When do I get those pointers?” I asked, struggling but unable to move at all.

“OK,” Dena said hopping to her feet and grabbing the one remaining piece of rope. “OK, try this.” And she turned around and put her hands behind her back in front of me and wrapping the rope around her wrists as she did, so it looked like she had her hands tied behind her back too. Standing in front of me she flexed and turned her wrists in a variety of ways that eventually made the ropes wrapped around her wrists looser. She demonstrated this for about a minute.

“If you do this with you wrists, you should be able to untie yourself,” Dena said. “Same goes for your feet. Of course, once you get your hands free you can untie your feet yourself.”

So I tried what she told me and tried and tried, but still got nowhere. I said, “Dee, this isn’t really working. I know it worked for you, but your hands aren’t tied. They’re only wrapped in the rope.”

“Oh yeah,” Dena giggled, loosening her wrists behind her back and letting the ropes fall to the floor. “Good point. I guess that won’t work. Sorry, Jess.”

“No problem,” I said as she stood before me. “What other ideas do you have?”

“Hmm,” Dena said, tapping her foot and thinking. “I don’t think I have any. But you know what…wait…I think I have something in the bag that may help.” And with that she went to her bag and pulled out a piece of paper. She held it in front of her and read as I looked on, tied to the chair. It looked like some kind of website printout or email.

“OK. I think I know what to do now. Here Jess, read this,” she said, holding it out, then she laughed. “Oops, can’t do that with your hands tied. Sorry. Here, read this.”

And has Dena held the paper in front of my eyes to read, my heart began to race. The paper was an email from my mother to Dena! It read:

“Hi Dee –

Well, I have had it with my son! He simply will NOT get a haircut. He never defies me, but for some reason he refuses to cut his hair. I would love it if you could help me out here and convince him to get his haircut!

Love –

R”

My eyes grew huge and I was speechless. Dena pulled the paper away and folded it into her pocket. “Tsk tsk tsk…disobeying your mother! Very bad of you, Kidnap Boy!”

OH NO!

“D-D-D-Dena…w—w-w-wait. Don’t…” but Dena silenced me with her hand over my mouth.

“Sorry, sweetie, but I promised your Mom. Sorry I had to trick you, but I knew I had to tie you up today and figured I’d find a way to do without having to chase you and catch you!” Dena said, clamping her hand over my mouth. “Now, will you scream if I take my hand off your mouth?”

“Mm mm.” I said. That meant no.

“You’ll stay quiet until I get back downstairs? I won’t be more than 2 minutes,” Dena said, her hand staying firm.

“Mm mm” I said. That meant yes.

“Good. Wait here, darling,” and after she took her hand off my mouth she ran upstairs to close and lock the front door. Then I heard her in the kitchen, making a phone call. My heart sank again – I could tell from the second she started talking she was calling Marissa!

“Yep, I got him. He’s tied to a chair downstairs….Well, I’ll be done in about, say, an hour? So why don’t you come over then? Then we can do what we talked about….Great. Bye!”

Dena came back downstairs and stood in front of , her arms folded. I could always tell when Dena got excited – her arms (which were exposed with short sleeves) would get kind of pink.

“Got ya again, didn’t I? You really thought I’d teach you how to escape from me? From Dena? Master kidnapper?”

“Dena, please, I don’t want…”

“Shhhh sweetie. Save your breath. You’re all tied up and there’s nothing you can do to stop me,” Dena said, putting her fingers to her lips. She brought a TV tray over in front, of me and took a small cosmetics bag out of the duffel bag and placed it on the tabe. She opened it to reveal two pairs of haircutting scissors and an electric razor/trimmer. Dena smiled in a devastating way. “The time has come for a haircut, sweetheart.”

I began to thrash around – or at least try to – in the chair while I yelled, “No! NO! NO!” But Dena just laughed and disappeared downstairs, and then emerged a few moments later with an old bedsheet. She calmly placed it on the floor at the base of chair – presumably to catch my falling hair.

“DENA! NO! YOU DON’T WANT TO DO THIS! PLEASE!!!!” I begged. I DID NOT want my hair cut. “Tickle me, torture me – ANYTHING BUT THIS!!!” And I was serious.

Dena just grinned at me and stared me right in the face in her evil way, “Tickle you? Torture you? Hmm. Maybe later. But first, we’ve got to cut all this hair!” Dena said, leaning in tousling my hair.

“NOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!”

Dena stood up and sighed as I kept yelling. “Well, I will not put up with you screaming like a little boy. So I guess I’ll have to shut you up!” And with that she reached into the duffle bag and pulled out a role of white duct tape. “I didn’t want to have to gag you, but you leave me no choice.”

Dena tore a piece of duct tape off and approached me, smiling in a kind of annoyed way.

“NO! DENA! NOOO….MMMMMMMMMMMMPHHHHH!!!” is what I said as Dena sealed the tape over my mouth. I screamed into the gag and thrashed in the chair but I was going nowhere.

“Here we are again, Kidnap Boy. Bound and gagged! And my prisoner,” Dena said, picking up a pair of scissors and clipping them in the air as she approached me, just to taunt me I think.

“Hold still – neither of us wants you to get cut,” Dena said and I complied and she began to snip my hair! It fell to the floor below me. She began to cut away – the only thing not awful was I knew she knew how to cut hair/ She’d cut some friends hair before and wasn’t at all bad.

After a few minutes she looked at me and put the scissors down. “That’s a good start. But before I go on, there IS some good news. Wanna hear it?” Dena asked.

“MMMMMMMM” I replied, straining again against the ropes and the gag.

“Marissa’s coming over, and we’ve decided to give you a full Spa Day! You are our guest at Dena and Marissa’s Spa today, Jessie!” Dena said with a big smile.

I mmphed some more.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” she teased. “We’ll give you the full treatment. A mud facial. A pedicure and foot spa. A massage. The works!”

“MMMMMMMMMMPPPPHHHHH!!!!” I yelled, knowing that all of these things would mean Dean and Marissa torturing me.

“So let’s get your hair just right, shall we. Marissa will be here shortly,’ Dena said. And she went back to cutting my hair. As she cut my hair close behind me, I could feel her blonde hair falling on my neck and the feel of her short puffed sleeved was really nice. After about 15 minutes she was done and there was a bunch of my hair at her feet.

Dena picked her foot up and pulled strands of hair off her socks. “Maybe I should have worn shoes for this, huh? Your hair is all over my socks!”

Then Dena started trimming my neck with the electric trimmer. I giggled and squirmed hard under the gag. It tickled like hell!

“Am I tickling you, Kidnap Boy? Am I? Huh? God you are just sooooo ticklish, aren’t you?” Dena laughed. And then, just for laughs, she ran the trimmer over my neck and shirt so I could feel it tickle me from my neck down to my stomach.

“MMMMMMMMEEEEEMMMMMMMMM” I squealed in reaction.

“Hah! Another tickle torture device! Awesome!” Dena said, and then went back to finishing trimming my neck.

Finally she said, “And…we’re done! Now, let’s get this hair cleaned up!”

Dena went to the closest and wheeled out the vacuum and attached the hose attachment. “Hold still, Jess….oh, what am I saying! You have to hold still! You’re all tied up!!!”

And Dena then turned the vacuum on with her foot and used the open attachment to do 2 things – vacuum up the loose hair that was on me and the floor, and tickle-torture me. Has anyone ever had a vacuum hose placed on your body, like your back or ribs? It tickled like CRAZY!!

“MMMM!!!! MMMEEEEMMMMEEMMM!!!!” I screamed.

“I KNOW this tickles you too, Jess. I figured it would. Well, what’s the point in tying you up if I can’t torture you half to death, right? Here, have some more vacuum tickling!” And Dena kept pressing the vacuum to various parts of my body as I squirmed and screamed into the gag. Finally she stopped.

“Phew! All done. You’ve earned a break,” Dena said. She turned the vacuum off with her foot and wheeled it back to the closet. I panted into my gag, close to tears and laughing still like crazy.

“Poor baby,’ Dena said, coming up and taking my tape gag off, “you just can’t win, can you?”

“Ahh! Ahhh! You suck! You gave me a haircut!” I yelled, still kind of laughing. “You owe me! Untie me and MAYBE we’ll be even.”

“Well, I’ll untie you a little bit,” Dena said with a wink. And she undid the knots around my chest and lap that had tied me to the chair. She then gently pushed me to the floor with my hands and feet bound, and I landed at her socked feet. “Unfortunately, I have to keep your hands and feet tied for when Marissa gets here. But I’ll take extra good care of you before she does!”

With that, Dena worked quickly. She sat in the chair and used her feet to hold me in place. Then she looked down at me and said gently with a sigh, “Sorry honey, but you know I can’t resist when I’ve got you all tied up! I have to gag you with my feet!”

“No…..” I tried to yell, but Dena clamped her right foot over my mouth and giggled. These grey argyle socks smelled pretty bad, and she knew it.

“ How does my foot feel, Kidnap Boy? Nice and comfy?” Dena taunted and kind of moved her foot around over my mouth for emphasis. “I know these socks are smelly. I just can’t help myself – I know how much you love my stinky socks!”

Dena then put her left foot under my nose while her right foot kept gagging me. With my hands and feet tied tightly with rope I couldn’t do anything. “Poor Kidnap Boy! All tied up and now you have to suffer the torture of smelling my feet!” Dena teased.

After about 3 minutes or so, Dena took her feet off my mouth and nose and quickly hopped down from the chair and sat on me, pinning me. She tossed her hair and adjusted her puffy short sleeves, which had hiked up her arms. She looked down at me and smiled with that awful, gorgeous, evil grin.

“Marissa will be here in just a minute. I need to get you warmed up before she gets here,” Dena said and wiggled her fingers. “Tickle tickle tickle time!”

Dena then started to crazily tickle me all over my bound body, mainly my ribs, stomach, armpits, and neck. I screamed and laughed – “Nonononononononono!!!Aieeeeeeeeee!!!!” – but Dena get giggling and tickling me half to death. When she got to my neck – which for as ticklish a I am everywhere might be, along with my feet, my deadliest tickle spot – Dena cooed and teased in a sweet little girl voice.

“Ooooooohh! My wittle baby boy hates having his neck tickled most of all, doesn’t he?Doesn’t he? I know my Kidnap Boy well and I know ALL his most ticklish places, and I knoooooow his neck is the most ticklish place of all. And you’re all tied up and can’t defend yourself from evil Dena! I think I might just tickle you to death today, Kidnap Boy!”

“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! STOP! STOP! STOP!!!!! NOMORE!!!!”

Finally the doorbell rang, and Dena stopped tickling me. She got an excited look on her face.

“Marissa’s here! You’re day is about to get soooooo much better, Kidnap Boy. And soooooo much longer! It’s time for your spa day, as only the two best kidnapping girls in the world can do!” Dena said, and hopped to her feet and ran upstairs while I sweated, laughed, and panted with my hands and feet tied on the ground.

Within a moment, Marissa had come downstairs, looking as hot as ever. She wore a yellow-gold short sleeve peasant blouse and tan cargo pants, and yellow-gold cable knit socks. She wore clogs, but she quickly slipped them off her feet. She held a backpack – I could only imagine what it was filled with!

“Hi sweetie!” Marissa squealed and then rushed to my side, kneeling over my bound body. “Are you ready for the best spa day ever?”

I’ll finish later. Part II – with the complete “Spa Day” – is coming next.

Marissa tousled my hair and beamed in an irresistible smile. She was gorgeous, with a face like an angel and curly reddish-brown hair that fell loose well past her shoulders.

My kidnapper, Dena, knelt at my other side. She wore a white blouse with short puffy sleeves, grey cargo pants, and grey argyle socks. She had already tortured me with tickling for at least 10 minutes, foot-gagged me with her terribly smelly socks on, and cut my hair while I sat bound and gagged and helpless.

“I love your haircut, Jess. So handsome!” Marissa teased, tousling my now-short hair. “Are you excited that Dena and I are going to give you your own spa day?”

“No,” I said. “I want you to untie me so I can start plotting my revenge for cutting my hair!”
“Oh, someone is being a little cranky, huh? Well, I know how the cure for crankiness,” Marissa said and lifted up my shirt. “Have you ever had your ribs counted?”

“What?” Dena asked, laughing. At this time I tried to yell something but Dena, without even looking in my direction, put her hand over my mouth.

Marissa laughed. “See, I was with my young cousins last weekend. The 13-year-old, Rachel, was tickling her brother. He’s 11. But she kept saying, ‘Let’s count your ribs and see how many you have!’ She held him down and I tickled him while feeling for all of them. It was fun, but it wasn’t quite my Kidnap Boy!”

“MMMMMMMPPPHHHHH!!!!”

“Shhh,” Marissa said gently, placing her finger to her lips, and then moving her fingers to my rib cage, “now let’s see how many ribs Jessie has! I bet this can get him to cheer up!”

With that, Marissa started tickling my bare rib cage. I laughed and laughed and Dena let my mouth go and got to her feet, saying, “Keep tickling him until I get back. We’ll give him his facial first. I need to get something.” And ran downstairs.

“Tickle tickle little baby!” Marissa teased, dancing her fingers around my bare rib cage. It was agony! “I may just tickle you to death!”

“AHHh! AHHH! STOP! STOP! PLEASE!!!!!”

After a couple of minutes more of Marissa’s tickle torture, Dena came back up carrying, of all things, an older Twister mat. She also brought another folding chair. The mat had a small rip in it so naturally it couldn’t be used anymore. But what was this for?!

“Are we going to make him play Twister while he’s all tied up?” Marissa asked, finally stopping the tickling and putting my shirt back down. “It’s actually a kind of fun idea!”

“No no,” Dena said. “I needed a drop cloth for his facial. This was the best I could find but it should do the trick. Did you bring everything we need? The mud for the facial, all the stuff for his foot spa?”

“Yep!” Marissa chirped. “It’s in my bag!”

“Go get it while I lay the mat out. And there’s a plastic basin under the kitchen sink. Grab that and fill it with warm water. Then we’ll start with the facial,” Dena said, and Marissa bounced upstairs. Dena laid the mat out on the floor and looked at me, smiling.

“Poor baby, Jess,” she said, crouching down to kiss me. “We just keep finding ways to torture you, don’t we?”

“Wh-wh-wh-what are you going to do to me,” I stammered, laughing nervously as I could barely moved with my hands and feet tied.

“You’ll see!” Dena warned. Then she got up, stood over me, and placed her argyle-socked foot right under my nose. “You’ll see verrrrrrrrrrry soon,” and then Dena giggled like crazy.

Then Dena went into that dufflebag where she got the ropes and duct tape and pulled out that old familiar pair of handcuffs. She stood over me and dangled them from her finger, grinning.

“Dena, you already tied me up! See!” I said, trying to show her my bound hands.

“I know, but you’re hands are tied with rope, and I didn’t want to leave your hands tied behind your back with rope for too long. It could get uncomfortable. So we’re going to handcuff you instead. Hold still,” Dena said, crouching down behind me and handcuffing my already-bound hands. Once I heard her clink the cuffs on, she started to untie those bulky knots that my hands were tied with. She struggled. “Wow, Jess. I have to say – I am REALLY good at tying you up. I outdid myself here!”

A short time later Dena had my hands untied and used those ropes to again tie the upper part of my legs. Tight. The she grabbed the ropes that had tied my upper body to the chair and tied them around my chest. I was thoroughly tied up once again, only on the floor.

“All tied up and at my feet once again, Kidnap Boy!” Dena announced. “Let’s see how well you’re tied up this time.” And with that she put her foot in my ribcage and wiggled her toes through her socks, tickling me.

“STOP!!!!!” I screamed. “That’s the worst!!! STOP! STOP!”

After about 15 seconds Dena stopped and giggled and leaned over me, “Just as I thought – you’re not going anywhere!”

Then Dena spread the Twister mat out, print side down, on the floor and ordered me onto it. I obeyed, squirming over and depositing myself on it, sitting up.

“Lie down, prisoner! We’re preparing you for your facial!” Dena ordered, and used her foot to gently lie me on the mat. Then she placed the 2 chairs on either wide of my body. Clearly the chairs were for them, but what did these chairs have to do with giving me facial?

I was to soon find out.

Marissa came downstairs in two trips. In one she carried a thick backpack filled with – God knows what. In the other she brought down a plastic basin, about 18-inches wide, filled with warm water. She placed it beside me on the mat.

“Are you gonna dump water on me?!” I yelled, sitting up.

“Lie down, hostage!” Marissa ordered, and this time SHE used her foot to lower me back down. Only she kept her foot on my chest when she did. “We’re not going to dump water on you. How would that be at all helpful? Or fun?” And she and Dena giggled again.

Marissa grabbed a plastic canister - about the size of a small tub of butter – and two large tongue depressers out of her bag. She and Dena then sat in the chairs on either side of me, maybe 6 inches from my body. They both put their socked feet on my chest-stomach. Neither Dena’s grey argyle socks or Marissa’s gold cable knit socks smelled good at all!

Marissa showed me the canister – it was some kind of mud mask. She opened it and showed me the green-brown facial mud inside, and then rubbed a dab on her wrist.

“See? It’s actually very good for you and totally harmless. We’re serious about the facial, Jess. Here, smell,” Marissa said and bent down to put her wrist under my nose. She was right – the facial mudpack smelled very pleasant.

“Oh---OK, fine. So you’re serious about giving me a facial?” I asked as they sat over me.

Dena smiled a smile that let me know she was serious. “Totally serious, honey.”

I relaxed and laid back. “Fine, fine. Let’s do it.”

Dena said, “Well, there is one small twist.”

“What?” I asked, daring not to sit up again.

“Most times facial are administered by hand. But Marissa and I think you deserve more than that – so we’re going to apply the mudpack with our feet!” Dena said cheerily.

And with that Dena and Marissa both took off their socks and dropped them by my head. I bolted upright.

“NO WAY! Not your bare feet! Not on my face!” I yelled.

They quickly sprang into action. Marissa placed her bare feet on my chest and forced me back down, and Dena put her bare foot over my mouth! THAT was agony! Dena spoke.

“Marissa and I have put a lot of effort into this day and our hostage is NOT going to ruin it. Either you hold still, be a good boy and accept this very creative new torture, or Marissa and I are going to have to resort to a favorite OLD torture. We’ll stuff our smelly socks into your mouth one at a time! And we’ll hold them in place with duct tape for 5 minutes each! That’s 20 minutes of stinky socks forced into your mouth if you disobey us. Do you want that, Kidnap Boy?” Dena asked, smiling but sternly.

“MMMMMMMMMPPPHHHHHH!!!!!!” I tried to scream into Dena’s bare foot but couldn’t.

Marissa looked down at my bound feet. “Kick your feet against the floor twice if you don’t want us to put our socks in your mouth. Do it now!”

I “MMMMMMMMPHED” some more into Dena’s foot, but also realized I had no chance. I kicked my feet twice and stopped struggling.

“Good boy,” Dena said, taking her foot off my mouth and then reaching once more for the duct tape. “Marissa, how wide is his mouth?”

Marissa leaned down and placed her fingers on either side of my mouth, leaving a little room on each side, and then came back up to Dena with her fingers maybe 4 inches apart. “About that wide,” Marissa said.

Dena tore off a piece of tape about that long.

I stayed lying down but softly said, “B-b-b-b-ut you said you wouldn’t gag me if I cooperated.”

Dena giggled, “That was with the socks. But this gag is more for your protection than to keep you quiet. Well, I mean, it WILL keep you quiet, of course, but it’s to keep the mud out of your mouth. We’re good with our feet, but not as accurate as with our hands!”

And with that Dena gently gagged me with that single piece of duct tape and sealed it tight with her fingers. I didn’t struggle – what good would it have done.

“Let’s begin!” Marissa said, and she and Dena each took a tongue depressor and smeared a sizable portion of mudpack on the balls of their bare feet. Then they very easily and gently started to rub the mudpack onto my face with their feet.

“Doesn’t that feel good, Kidnap Boy?” Dena taunted as she rubbed the mud into my cheek with her foot. “Our pretty feet on your pretty face? Isn’t this great?!”

“Do you want to do under his nose?” Marissa asked, rubbing the mud with her foot on my right cheek. “Your toes are longer than mine.”

“Sure, in a minute,’ Dena said. “Let me finish his cheek and chin first. Look at our prisoner, Marissa! It looks like he hates it and loves it at the same time!” Dena laughed.

She was right. I mean, I really at this point was into the idea girls tying me up, and they both had beautiful feet. I really didn’t mind – there’s just a natural tendency to resist, if you know what I mean. And on the downside, both Dena and Marissa’s feet smelled kinda bad.

“Now you see why we had to gag you,” Dena said, rubbing her foot over my taped mouth to cover the area around my lower face. “You don’t want any of this stuff in your mouth.”

The facial went on for about 10 minutes, with Dena and Marissa occasionally dunking their feet into the basin of water to wash off excess mud before drying their feet and applying more. When it came time to do my nose and the area under my nose, Dena used her big toe to dab the mask on. She had long, slender toes that I loved.

Before finishing, though, Dena took her big toe and second toe and sort of pinched my nostrils with, making it hard to breathe with my mouth taped. Dena giggled and stopped after 10 seconds.

“Dee, you are sooooo cruel,” Marissa laughed. “You are just determined to torture this poor boy out of his mind, aren’t you?”

“It’s what I do – I torture Jessie! I wish that could be my job,” Dena laughed. I just lay there getting my face covered in mudpack by the bare feet of two beautiful girls.

Marissa finished my forehead and over my eyes with ball of her foot, and Dena applied the final touches under my eyes with her two biggest toes. They laughed and cooed at me the whole time, which drove me crazy.

And then they were done! I could feel the full mudpack on my face. It DID feel pretty good.

“Was that really so bad” Marissa asked as she washed off her feet and then dried them. Dena did the same.

“Mm hmm” I nodded, I couldn’t resist.

“Why? Do our bare feet stink?” Dena asked. “It’s OK, be honest.”

I was laughing under the gag. I nodded my head. Dena and Marissa both laughed and got up, pulling the chairs away and leaving me bound and gagged on the map with my face covered in facial mud. They gently took the mat out from underneath me and Dena deposited it in the garage. When she came back, Dena and Marissa both sat down and put their socks back on their feet, then got up to stand over me

“OK. The deal is this – the mud need to sit for 15-20 minutes,” Marissa said. “Then we gently wash it off with wash cloths. And don’t worry, Jess – we won’t use our feet for that part. We’ll use our hands.”

“So we have 20 minutes,” Dena said to Marissa. “We’ll leave his gag on until we get all the mud off. Plus, no sense giving him the chance to yell or scream.”

“In the meantime,” Marissa asked Dena, “What do you want to do?”

Dena grinned that evil and grin and looked down at me. “Let’s…count his ribs again! I love that idea!”

I screamed into the gag to no avail. Dena sat on my legs and Marissa pinned my shoulders with her knees, and then raised my shirt up over my head. I struggled, now bare-torsoed, but was tied up so well that I couldn’t go anywhere. Now I was pinned and facing tickle torture!

Dena wiggled her fingers in front of me and giggled, “I think I’ll count his lower ribs, Marissa, why don’t you count his upper ribs. OK? Let’s go. 20 minutes until you’re done, Kidnap Boy!”

Dena and Marissa both used their wiggling fingers to flutter them lightly into my rib cage from above and below, each counting out each time they “found” another rib.

“Oooh, I got that 4th rib from the bottom. Looks like Jess is reallllllly ticklish on that rib. Hmm. I wonder why? Let’s experiment with the 4th rib on the other side,” Dena taunted and then used her other hand to lightly tickle my ribs in the same place on the other side. “Oh my goodness! Listen to him squeal under the gag! I think we found the most ticklish rib, Mariss! It’s number 4!”

“I don’t know, Dee! These two right here at the verrrrrrry top seem verrrrrrrrrrrry ticklish,” Marissa teased, doing her own light fingering up near my armpits. “I’ll keep tickling him here until he gives us a sign which is worse. Maybe when he starts to cry we’ll know which rib is the most ticklish!”

“Good idea,” Dena responded, now fluttering her fingers all over my lower rib cage on both sides, and then looked down at me and grinned. Here came the taunting!

“Whassa matter, baby? You don’t like having your ribs counted? Are we tickling you to death? Are we? Are Marissa and Dena tickling you to death? And you can’t defend yourself because we’ve got you all tied up? Huh? Huh? Huh?” Dena teased in her little girl’s voice. “Well, don’t you worry. This will all be over in a few minutes. Well, the rib-counting, at least!”

“Right,” Marissa teased, “remember, I’ve still got to go to work on your feet! I have the most wonderful foot spa planned for you!”

“MMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!” I screamed into the gag as Dena and Marissa kept tickling every inch of my bare rib cage slowly and methodically with their fluttering fingers. I could feel the tears in my eyes and I was laughing hysterical into the tape gag.

Finally, as Marissa did a spider crawl across by upper rib cages with both tickling hands, she said, “You know, I think the mask can come off now. I think we’ve waited long enough.”

“OK, time to stop!” Dena said, and with that they did. Dena stopped pinning me and came and sat beside me, and Marissa did the same. I hoped they would take the gag off because I was laughing and panting so hard, but instead they quickly grabbed washcloths, sat beside me and very gently washed the mudpack off my face.

“Such a handsome boy!” Marissa said with a giggle. “I’m so glad our favorite hostage is so handsome!”

“I know, isn’t he just so cute?” Dena said. “You should feel flattered, Jessie. We wouldn’t kidnap and torture just anyone, you know.”

I lay there bound and gagged and took it all. Finally, my face was cleansed and Dena patted it dry with a towel. Then Dena reached down with a smile and slowly pulled my tape gag off.

“MmmmmOOOWWWWW!” I said. “Ahhh! But thank you. Thank you! Oh my God, you two are crazy!”

Dena and Marissa just laughed and Marissa got up. “I’m going to get downstairs ready for his feet. I’ll tell you when it’s time to bring him down, Dee.” And Marissa padded down the stairs with her backpack of whatever torture tools she needed. She then came back up for the padded folding chair and the TV tray as Dena sat with her argyle-socked feet on my chest. I kept laughing and panting and didn’t say much.

“We want you to get you strength back, Kidnap Boy, before the next part of the spa!” Dena said, rubbing her feet around on my chest. “Whew! Torturing your victim really makes you tired! I can only imagine what’s it’s like to BE the victim!”

“You will, someday soon. Mark my words!” I threatened with a laugh, while Marissa made her final trip upstairs. “I’ll get you back and you will SUFFER!”

“Oh yeah., Kidnap Boy?! Oh yeah?! Whatcha gonna do?! You’re all tied up!” Dena said and quickly pounced on me and wrestled me all around. I just laughed hysterically as Dena manhandled me. What could I do – I was completely tied up. Finally Dena wound up behind me, her arms around my chest and her feet wrapped tightly around my middle. She let go briefly with her arms to grab the duct tape along side her and tear a piece off, gagging me with it from behind!”

“Marissa’s almost ready for you, but I think I’ll punish my bound and gagged prisoner for that silly threat!” Dena said and held me in place from behind as she raised a socked foot to my face. “Smell my stinky foot, Kidnap Boy! Smell it! You threaten me and I torture you with my stinky feet! How do you like that!”

Dena just laughed as I mmmphed more into the gag, trying to avoid her foot odor but finding it impossible. Marissa came up about 30 seconds later and said, “OK, we’re all ready for your foot treatment.”

Dena let me go and got up, leaving me rolling around tied up on the floor.

“Hold still, Jess, and listen carefully. I’m going to untie the ropes from your chest and upper legs, and you are going to slide you hands under you, over your feet, and in front of you. Got it!” Dena asked, untying the ropes she said she would. I nodded, and then, as if to read my mind, she asked. “Do you have to use the bathroom before going downstairs?”

I nodded again.

“OK, once your hands are in front of you I’ll bring you to the bathroom. I promise. Now do what I said!” I did as Marissa watched – it took a little effort but I was able to get my cuffed hands in front of me. I sat up – I now had my hands handcuffed in front of me, my feet tied tightly at the ankles with rope, and my mouth taped.

Marissa came over with a rope and tied it around the middle of the handcuffs. She let it dangle from the cuffs once tying it. “Don’t worry, Jess, this is for later.”

“OK, Kidnap Boy, on your feet,” Dena ordered, helping me up. “Like Marissa always says – hop like a bunny to the bathroom! Come on! Use those feet to hop, hop, hop!”

Dena and Marissa laughed as I did just that. Once inside Dena helped me stand up and I was able to unzip and pee. I DID kinda look at her as if to say, “Um, a little privacy please?” – but Dena just laughed and said, “Don’t worry –I’ll close my eyes, but I am not leaving your side for a second.”

So I relieved myself, hopped to the sink, and washed my bound hands, Dena keeping a tight hold of me the whole way. Then she said, “Sit down on the floor. Now!”

I obeyed. And Dena grabbed my feet and dragged me face up to the basement door. I noticed she had several lengths of rope tucked into pockets of her cargo pants. Her workout room was down there.

“Time to bring you into Marissa’s torture chamber…oh, I mean her spa!” Dena giggled. “I’m going to sit this one out and put my feet up for awhile. But don’t worry – your feet will be in good hands.”

And with that Dena eased me down the 4 stairs into the workout room. She then put me back on the floor and dragged me over to her slant board. It was at a 45 degree angle, with padded holds for your feet up at the top (for situps). It also had a flat section at the bottom with another padded foot-hold, for a different kind of situps. Marissa’s “tool” were presumably on the TV table by the bottom of the slant board, with the chair sitting right there too. The tools were covered with a towel.

Dena grabbed me and forced me to my feet, then placed me on the padded slantboard. She took my hands – cuffed in front of me – and took that long piece of rope Marissa had tied to the cuffs and pulled them up over my head, stretching me out and finally tying the handcuffs to the foot-hold at the top of the board. This meant my arms were stretched out over my head and underarms, torso, and stomach were all exposed.

Dena then pulled a rope out of her pocket and tied my feet down to the other footholds.

“I’ll let Marissa take your socks off – you can keep them on until she finishes in the bathroom,” Dena said. I was now stretched out and tied down to the slantboard, with my feet propped up on the foot-holds and tied down there. Marissa’s chair was there, meaning Marissa had free access to my feet and I couldn’t move them.

“Almost done, Jess. I need to tie you to the slant board,” Dena said, taking one more piece of rope from her pocket and tying it around my waistline to the board. Once more, to secure the knot, Dena used her socked foot to hold it in place as she tied it. I giggled at the sensation of her foot on me.

“You are soooo ticklish, Jess. Tying you up and torturing you wouldn’t be half as fun if you weren’t so darn ticklish,” Dena said, standing alongside me. “Well, Marissa will be right in. Have fun. Call if you need me!” And with that Dena giggled, kissed me on the cheek, and went upstairs. I was tied down and helpless.

Marissa padded down a minute later and sat in the chair at my bound and propped feet. She sat in the Lotus position, her socked feet crossed across her lap.

“Hi Jessie! Are you ready for the world’s greatest pedicure!?” she asked. I shook my head no, unable to respond while gagged. “No? Oh, poor baby, of course you are!”

“Let’s get your socks off first and see what we have to work with,” Marissa said, pulling my socks off one at a time. “You have good feet, Jess. Let’s see what we need to do.”

Marissa took my bare feet in her hands and worked her hands along my soles and arches, which tickled like crazy. But then she would occasionally intentionally tickle me with her fingers, laughing the whole time.

“I have to keep your feet still!” Marissa said, reaching under the towel and pulling out a 2-foot piece of twine. “This is to tie you big toes together so you don’t fight me.” And she did, tying my toes tightly together, leaving my feet even more exposed and helpless.

“OK, here’s what we’ll do. First we’ll massage, then we’ll moisturize and exfoliate, and then we’ll do your nails. OK?” Marissa asked.

“MMMMMMMM!!!!” I tried to respond.

“You know, I don’t know why Dena had to gag you again. No one can hear you down here anyway. Hey, Dee?” Marissa yelled upstairs.

“Yeah?!”

“Can I take Jessie’s gag off? No one will hear him anyway!”

“Go ahead!” Dena yelled back. “But if starts to scream too loud, I’m coming down there and stuffing my socks in his mouth!”

Marissa unfolded her feet and got up and walked to me. “Well, you heard her. Nothing too loud or you get her socks in your mouth. But here, let’s get this gag off!” And Marissa tore the tape gag off.

“AHHHHH! Thank you…” Marissa stopped me by putting her finger to her lips.

“Save it, Jess. And remember, try not and scream too loud,” and Marissa giggled and went back to my feet, sitting in the Lotus position again in the chair. She then reached under the towel and pulled some kind of metal motorized device out, with a handgrip.

“Wh-wh-what’s that?” I asked, nervous.

“This is an old-fashioned massager – you turn it on and run it on the shoulders, back, feet, anywhere,” Marissa said. She turned it on and it vibrated and made a low humming sound.

Marissa calmly placed the massager on the balls of my right foot and started to run it over the whole foot. My feet are almost absurdly ticklish and the vibrations drove me crazy.

“AHHHHHH! AHHH! NOOOOOOOO!!!!” I yelled.

“Not too loud, Jessie. Or Dena comes down here with her stinky socks,’ Marissa warned, moving the device all over the soles of both feet. I was in agony!

“PPPPppppppppppleasee!!!!!!!! I begged, quietly, laughing hysterically. “Please! Please! Please!”

Marissa just giggled. Finally after 5 minutes she was done.”OK, now it’s time to moisturize!”

Marissa reached under the towel and pulled out a bottle of baby oil and poured a generous amount into her hands. She rubbed them together and then began to rub the oil over my feet. This also tickled like crazy.

“NNnnnnnnnnnnooooooooooooooo!!!!” I all I kept saying over and over again, trying to keep quiet and biting my lip and laughing like a mad man.

“Does that tickle Jessie? Huh? Huh?” Marissa teased, oiling my feet before she was done in 2 minutes. Then she simply tickled my feet up and down with her fingers. “I don’t mean to tickle you. Just want to make sure your feet are nice and moisturized!”

While I laughed and teared up in agany, I couldn’t help but watch Marissa. In her short-sleeved yellow peasant blouse and cargo pants and those gold socks and sitting in the Lotus position while torturing me and laughing her head off, God she was sexy!

2-3 more minutes of this and Marissa pulled out another piece of twine and wrapped it around her fingers. “This is called flossing the toes – something I just made up!”

And Marissa ran the rough twine between each of my toes, causing me to yelp and whimper and laugh and now tears were on my face. “Please no! No! No! No!”

Marissa just giggled, finished “flossing,” and then reached under the towel and pulled out an emory board.

“Unfortunately, this part probably won’t tickle much!” Marissa said, filing and grooming each of my toenails. She was right and calmed down. I was still laughing and still felt the tears on my face.

“Oh poor baby! You should see yourself! You’re crying – is tickling your feet really that much torture?” Marissa asked.

“Yes,” I panted as she finished filing my nails. “Yes! Yes!Yes!”

“Well, then, it’s OK baby, because we’re almost done,” Marissa said. “Just two more steps to go. Unfortunately, this next step MIGHT tickle…a lot!”

And with that Marissa pulled out a familiar torture tool – the high-speed electric toothbrush Dena and she had used on me before! It had no brush on it – just a spindle that when applied to my feet sent me into orbit in hysterics!

“NOOOOOOOO!!!! Not that!!! Please!!!!! I am begging you!!! NONONONONO!!!!!!!” Now I was SCREAMING!

Marissa just laughed evilly and said, “Oh, yes, Jessie! I am going to tickle your helpless feet with this device for 10 FULL MINUTES!!!!!!” And Marissa then turned the brush on and began to torture my feet with it!

“AHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! AHHHHHH!!!!!!!! NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!” I screamed as I felt tears come back to my eyes. I was laughing so hard and screaming so loud that Dena had come back downstairs, looking annoyed. She was barefoot and holding her grey argyle socks in her hand!

“I warned you, Jessie! Now you get tickled AND tortured with my stinky socks!” Dena said, approaching me as Marissa just laughed and kept the brush on my feet. This was BRUTAL!

“You know, Dee, I kinda like the screaming, and no one can hear him! I like hearing how badly I am tickle-torturing him!” Marissa said as she kept running the device all over every inch of my feet. “You don’t have to gag him.”

“Well, we’ll compromise,” Dena said, and she held both socks in her hand and clamped her hand over my mouth. Then after 5 seconds she took the socks off my mouth. “We’ll just do this over and over until Marissa is done with you, Kidnap boy!”

And every 10 seconds Dena would hold her stinky socks over my mouth and nose for 5 seconds, and the release them. Over and over and over. I was laughing harder than maybe I ever had before and crying like a baby. And Dena’s socks smelled terrible and I was forced to breathe them in over and over.

Dena decided to put on her evil torturer voice, while gagging me briefly with her socks and Marissa kept tickling my feet.

“Vee are tired of you no cooperating vith us, hostage! So I shall apply these terrible smelly socks to your mouth and let you breathe in my foot odor, vhile my assistant tickle-tortures your feet vith the torture device. Vee vill keep doing this until you tell us the information ve vant to know. And if you don’t, ve shall tickle and torture you to death!” Dena said. She loved this.

FINALLY it was over. I was crying and laughing and bucking like a bronco. Marissa just laughed.

“OK, honey. I’m going to give you a few minutes before I paint you nails!” Marissa said.

NO!

“No!” I panted, exhausted and out of breath and still laughing my head off. “Please! No! I’ve got swimming practice tomorrow. I don’t want them to see. Please. No!”

Dena then surprised me. She pulled a chair over, discarding her socks on the ground, and put her bare feet up on my chest. “Actually, maybe we can make a deal with Jess. We won’t paint his nails in exchange for something else?”

“Like what?” Marissa said, still at my tortured feet, which were pink and hot from the tickling and still tickled a bit.

“Well, we were going to conclude this spa treatment with a half-hour massage. And yes, Jess, by massage we mean tickling you!” Dena said.

“Oh God!” I said. “No more!”

“Save you breath, because there’s nothing you can do to stop us. Not when you’re all tied up!” Dena laughed, her bare feet still on my chest. “So I’ll make you a deal. We won’t paint your nails, if you agree to us tickling you for an hour instead of a half hour. Deal?”

“NO!” I screamed. “Please NO!”

“OK,” Dena said, picking her socks off the floor and bringing them to my mouth, which I clamped shut. “Marissa, paint his toe nails. I’m going to stuff my socks in his mouth for being an ungrateful little baby!” And Dena moved the socks to my lips.

“NO! OK! OK!” I screamed, defeated. “Just no nails! PLEASE!!!!!!”

“Hee hee he!” Marissa said. “OK, then. Instead we finish the job and tickle you to death. For an hour! Trust me, Kidnap Boy. We have never tickled you as hard as we are about to!”

“Hee hee hee. She’s right, Kidnap Boy!” Dena giggled and purred, untying the ropes from around my waist. “We are about to give you the worst tickling of your life!”

And, well, they did. Both Dena and Marissa stood alongside my bound body and tickled me and tickled me until tears were running down my face like someone turned on a faucet. They tickled my ribs and armpits and hips and upper legs and knees and feet and chest and neck and everywhere else they could think of. They taunted me the whole time.

After about 45 minutes – they would occasionally stop tickling me, let me catch my breathe, and then start again – Dena DID stuff her smelly socks in my mouth and gagged me with them. Dena then sat on my lap, facing me, put her bare feet in my ribs and armpits, and tickled me with her toes. As she did she did this Marissa tickled my feet with her fingers.

“MMMMMMMPPPPHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!” was all I could scream, gagged with Dena’s socks.

“We warned you, Kidnap Boy!” Dena scolded. “I just love to tickle you with my feet. I know my toes tickle you even worse than my fingers!”

Then Marissa told Dena we had 10 minutes to go and Dena climbed off me. I was in hysterics, but they stopped tickling me and instead stood over me on either side, grinning like Cheshire Cars and wiggling their fingers.

“For the grand finale!” Marissa said. “Those soft tickles you love so much. Up your arms and under your neck!”

And that’s what they did. Dena and Marissa lightly tickled my bare arms and neck for 10 minutes, causing me to thrash and squirm and scream and laugh into Dena’s socks. I seriously wondered if I might pass out.

“You are never going to forget today, Kidnap Boy,” Dena said with a laugh, tickling my neck in excruciating fashion. “Not only did you get your first-ever Spa Day, but you got without a doubt the worst tickle-torture Marissa and I have given you! Did you like it! And you’re answer better be yes!”

I jammed my teary eyes shut and nodded by head violently up and down, unable to spit the sock gag out. Did I like all of this? In a way, absolutely? Was it brutal torture? Yes! But was part of me OK with being tied up and tortured all day by two beautiful girls? Oh course!

FINALLY, Marissa stopped tickling me, and Dena slowly stopped too. They both sat on the floor and laughed as I spent 5 minutes getting it all out of my system – screaming, crying, laughing.

Dena then came up when I was calm and ran her cool hands over my hot face. “So smoothe!” Dena said. “Seriously. That facial REALLY worked!”

Dena and Marissa laughed and Dena took her socks out of my mouth and discarded them on the floor. They both then began to untie me, finally leaving only my hands tied with the cuffs in front of me and my feet lightly bound with rope. Marissa led me upstairs and said, “Last thing, Jess. It’s not free. You’ve got to pay us!”

“Oh, come on!” I said. “With what?!”

“With this – on your knees,” Marissa ordered and I got on my knees, my bound feet under me and my cuffed hands in front of me. Dena then came up, her feet still bare with with a pair of white cable-knit knee socks. She sat on the couch and put them on her feet. I could see – ugh! – they were dirty.

“Have you told him about paying us!” Dena asked, sitting on the couch where Marissa joined her. I was at their feet kneeling.

“Nope. You tell him,” Marissa said.

Dena giggled, “Our payment is this – you are going to kiss our feet. Until we say stop!”

I groaned and Dena quickly said, “Or we tickle you again. For another hour!”

So I agreed and Dena and Marissa took turns raising their smelly socked feet to my face while I had to kiss them. Their socks stayed on the whole time and I had to kiss their soles, their toes, the tops, everywhere on their feet they could think of. I must have kissed their feet 20 times each before they finally let me stop.

“Perfect!” Dena said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out the handcuff key. “The perfect ending to a perfect Spa Day. Marissa, go ahead and untie his feet.”

And Marissa untied my feet while Dena undid the handcuffs. They both then cuddled me on the sofa for awhile and it felt great. Dena and Marissa then each kissed me on the cheek while we cuddled.

“You’re the best, Kidnap boy!” Marissa said. “I wouldn’t want to torture anyone else!”

“Agreed,” Dena said. “And just think – sometime pretty soon, we’ll tie you up and torture you all over again!”

We all laughed. The Spa Day was finally over.

KB
Last edited by kidnap boy on Sat Sep 29, 2012 9:32 am, edited 2 times in total.

Re: Dena and Marissa Spa Day - The Full Story (ff/m)

Postby barefootboy » Mon Dec 14, 2009 3:16 pm

It was a marathon read but worth it. I know you escaped here but have you ever had your toenails pained when tied up? Most embarrasing in summer when you tend to go to the beach or pools and your mum and sister hides their remover.
Tied :tied: gagged :gag: and tickled :tickle:

Re: Dena and Marissa Spa Day - The Full Story (ff/m)

Postby canuck100 » Mon Dec 14, 2009 4:36 pm

Loved your story, as usual! Now I can't wait to see a) if you get your revenge b) if they get you again!

Re: Dena and Marissa Spa Day - The Full Story (ff/m)

Postby luckydog3 » Thu Dec 17, 2009 6:57 pm

Once again, Awesome.
I can't adequately express appreciation for the best stories in this forum.

Re: Dena and Marissa Spa Day - The Full Story (ff/m)

Postby fuegoski » Sun Apr 06, 2014 1:56 pm

I hope this story never end!! I am in love