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The Ticklish Spy

Spying was a dangerous game, but Roxy Saint played it well. She was sat outside a small café in the centre of Paris waiting for her target to exit an expensive bistro across the street. Roxy was sat with her legs crossed, her short skirt barely covering her pale thighs and jiggling her left foot. She was wearing a brand new pair of all leather knee high black boots she had purchased from a market stall and she loved the way they clung tightly to her small ticklish feet. Noticing that a dollop of cream had somehow dribbled off her latte and onto the smooth black toe of her left boot, Saint leaned forward to rub it off. Suddenly her target rose from his seat and began to walk towards a Porsche parked just in front of the exclusive restaurant. His name was Curtis Samuel and he was the leader of a criminal empire that spanned most of Europe from Russia in the east, all the way to the United Kingdom.

Interpol had contacted Roxy and told her to tail Samuel and gather evidence of his criminal activities. Grabbing her black suit coat and handbag, Roxy began to jog towards her Suzuki motorcycle, which was parked it an alley that ran alongside the café. Her boots made loud clicking noises as the wedged heels made contact with the cobblestones of the road. If she wasn’t feeling so tense, Roxy might have found the sound of her footsteps sexy in the fading light of the Parisian evening, but Curtis was her focus tonight. Sliding onto her bike, Roxy grabbed her helmet and slid it over her delicate French features and dark hair. She kicked the bike stand with the toe of her boot and began revving the bikes supercharged engine in preparation to pursue her quarry through the harsh traffic that would be clogging the expressway beneath the Chans a Lise. The Porsche shot past the alleyway like a navy blue bullet and Roxy knew the chase was on.

Curtis seemed to have an inkling he was being followed and was weaving his way at high speeds through the lines of traffic like a lunatic. But Roxy kept right on his tail, her advanced motorcycle training that had been courtesy of Interpol kicked in and allowed her to swerve around the worst of the congestion. Suddenly the Porsche took a sharp turn to the right and headed down a dark and deserted cul-de-sac and switched off its lights. It took a second for Roxy’s eyes to adjust to the gathering gloom of dusk and find the concealed car, but she found it and began to ease her bike forward gently. Roxy noticed a dark van come off the expressway behind her but she was so focused on not letting Curtis slip through her fingers she paid it little heed. She kicked her bikes stand into place and dismounted for a closer look at the parked sports car. She approached the back of the vehicle cautiously and drew her Walther P99 special issue from her shoulder holster.

Suddenly the cars brake lights came to life in a flash of crimson light. Temporarily blinded, Roxy tried to blink the coloured spots that now assaulted her eyes and clouded her vision. She heard the sound of a Transit Van side door sliding open and tried to turn to face the new potential threat. Roxy’s vision began to clear and she threw her bike helmet off for a better view of her surroundings. There was no sign of Samuel anywhere near the Porsche, so she decided to approach the van with the opened side door that was parked at the top of the narrow cul-de-sac and blocking her retreat back to her motorcycle. Roxy heard shuffling steps behind her and spun around to find a silenced Beretta pointed straight at her head.

The armed perpetrator was wearing dark clothing and a balaclava and yanked the Walther from her relaxing grip. Gesturing towards the van with his silenced weapon, the gunman began pushing Roxy towards the vehicle with his free hand. Sensing her opportunity, Roxy pivoted on her right heel and swung a perfect tai-quan-do straight kick into the masked goons face and heard his nose break before he hit the ground. However before she could capitalise on her manoeuvre, something sharp jabbed Roxy in her slender neck and felt her world begin to swim and after a few seconds her vision blackened into unconsciousness. Roxy drifted in and out of consciousness throughout the rough journey in the back of the van, but her senses did not return to her until she awoke in a dark and dingy warehouse.

Roxy’s wrists were tied to the arms of a cold steel chair with rope and her legs were lashed just above her knee high boots to an antique wooden foot stool. After a few minutes of futile struggling, Roxy decided to settle enough to survey her new surroundings. Aside from the chair and stool she was bound to, there seemed to be no other furniture in the freezing warehouse and Roxy couldn’t find any sharp objects nearby that could help in facilitating an escape. Suddenly, Roxy heard a door open at the far end of the empty space and the sounds of high heels clacking against concrete could be heard drawing closer. A woman wearing a suit similar to Roxy’s suddenly came into view carrying a shoe box in one hand and a notepad and pen in the other. The woman stopped by Roxy’s immobile legs and placed the shoe box down on the floor beside them.

“Hello Roxy” the woman said with a smile as she lowered herself into a kneeling position beside Roxy’s legs “I’m Karen, and you are going to tell me why you keep following my boss all over France” The woman’s voice had the clipped tones of Queen’s English running through it and it sent shivers down Roxy’s spine. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about, I’m a waitress at Rene’s café” Karen grinned at Roxy’s flimsy cover story “No I think you are Roxy Saint, a twenty two year old agent with Interpol with one discernable weakness, ticklish feet” Roxy cringed at the fact that this woman knew her one true weakness, her hyper sensitive and ticklish soles. “Erm… I don’t know what you’re talking about…I…”

“Shhh” Karen replied as she began to run her finger along the zip of Roxy’s left boot, the nail ticking loudly against the metal teeth of the zip “You’ll tell me everything I need to know soon enough” She grabbed hold of the sole of Roxy’s right boot with one hand and began playing with the zipper with the other “Are you sure you’ve got nothing to tell me Roxy?” Roxy gulped but shook her head. Karen began to ease the zip down slowly the length of Roxy’s boot and bent her head so she could take in the distinctive sound of it being unzipped. The zipper eventually reached the bottom of the boot and Karen tugged it off, revealing Roxy’s soft and sensitive size three foot still clad in its black calf high sock.

“I was wondering whether you’d be wearing socks with these boots” Karen mused as she began to remove items from the shoe box on the floor. Her hands returned clutching an innocent looking pink tooth brush “Last chance Roxy” Saint shook her head defiantly and Karen got to work. She started by gently running the toothbrushes bristles over Roxy’s socked sole from toe to heel and was gratified by a giggle and Saint’s futile attempt to pull her bootless foot away from the ticklish torture. “Please stop” Roxy breathed as Karen stopped for a second to ask questions. “Sorry, no stopping until you tell me what I need to hear” After that, Karen kept going for at least ten minutes, running the bristles along Roxy’s socked toes and ignoring her screams for mercy between the fits of giggles.

Stopping for a second, Karen looked into Roxy’s sexy grey eyes “You’re gonna make this difficult aren’t you?” Roxy just sat there sweating and out of breath. Karen reached into the box again and produced a large bright pink feather ad began to draw concentric circles in the air with it. “I’ll give you a demonstration of how ticklish this baby is on my own feet first if you want” Roxy nodded in agreement in order to get a break from the tickle torture. Karen placed the feather on Roxy’s bound legs and began to undo the straps on her ankle strap court shoes. She pulled them both off to reveal a pair tanned and nicely pedicured bare feet, which she began to rub with her hands in a massaging motion.

“Now that’s better” Karen said to herself as she wiggled her small bare toes and grabbed the pink feather from its position on Roxy’s legs. She ran the feather along her prominent arch and slid it in the gaps between her toes and giggled like a school girl as the feather did its work. Even though this was a demonstration of a torture device that was about to be used on her own pale soles, Roxy couldn’t help but feel slightly turned on by how gorgeous Karen’s golden tanned soles looked when she wrinkled them beneath the feathers tortuous touch. Eventually though, Karen stopped her little display and returned her golden bare feet with their red painted nails to her court shoes but did not redo the straps “Lets get started on you” she whispered.

Karen hooked her slender fingers onto the elastic top of Roxy’s sock and began to ease it slowly down her leg. Saint watched helplessly as her sock slid unopposed past her slightly pink heel and off the ends of her delightfully pale and elegant toes. The cold air of the warehouse ran all along Roxy’s bare sole and made her shiver and forced her to wiggle her black painted toes to keep them warm. Karen grinned and touched the tip of the feather against Roxy’s irresistible big toe. Roxy screamed with laughter and tried to hide her big toe beneath the rest in a futile attempt to protect its sensitive bottom from the ticklish touch of the feather. Karen changed tack and began to run the feather along the length of Roxy’s exposed pale sole, paying particular attention to the adorable pink areas on her heel, which sent Roxy into uncontrollable fits of  laughter “No please, my soles are too sensitive!” she screamed.

Karen stopped once again but instead of giving Roxy respite, she instead reached for the zip on her other boot. “No, please don’t” Roxy begged, but Karen eased the zip down and pulled her other boot off. Karen gave Roxy an enticing grin and then began to tug Saint’s other sock off with her teeth. Karen yanked the other sock off and took a second to sniff it before tossing it aside. “Ooh your feet smell wonderful” Karen purred “Now lets see if your other foot is just as ticklish” She ran the feather between each of Roxy’s long pale toes and she could barely breath between giggles as the soft silken tip tickled the sensitive skin mercilessly. After the toes, Karen went to work on Roxy’s creamy and sensitive arches, which made her buck and jump in the chair as Karen drew gentle spirals on the perfectly smooth skin with the feather. After what seemed like an eternity, Karen stopped again and Roxy was able to draw a breath between giggles.

“Let’s see if you can resist the next tool in my arsenal Karen whispered. She put the feather down and leaned her face close against Roxy’s pale and exposed soles. Suddenly something wet and very ticklish began to run it way along her left sole from her heel to her toes, where it pushed its way between her big and second toes and continued to tickle without respite. After a few seconds of heedless giggling, Roxy realised that the tool Karen had spoke off was her luscious tongue. Saint could not believe how much Karen’s tongue could tickle her poor bare feet and found herself getting more and more turned on by her actions. Ever since Roxy could remember, she had like feet, particularly female feet and even though she couldn’t bear it for long she did enjoy having her pretty bare feet tickled and worshipped.  

Karen suddenly stepped back from Roxy’s feet and stared down at her discarded boots and socks “Now we don’t need these laying around do we? I mean if you refuse to tell me anything, I suppose I’ll have to destroy your lovely new boots. It’ll also make it harder for you to escape if you are forced to remain barefoot” Grabbing Roxy’s shoes and socks, Karen dumped them into what must have been an old metal kiln and Roxy watched in horror as her lovely leather boots melted in the extreme heat. “Right, now lets see how you fair against my long nails” Karen hunched down with her bum resting on the heels of her feet and began to run the long nail of her index finger along Roxy’s small bare sole. Roxy screamed with laughter as the tip of the nail found all of her most ticklish areas, the gaps between her toes, her arches and the spot just below her well formed ankles and in the end, Roxy couldn’t take anymore “Ok I’ll talk!” She screamed between fits of laughter. Karen stood up and smiled “Ok then Roxy, spill it”

This time it was Roxy’s time to smile “Only if you take your shoes off and throw them into the kiln like you did to mine” Karen looked shocked for a second and stared at her lovely shoes “Oh but these are Jimmy Choo and I don’t remember any aspects of a prisoner jailor relationship that allows for requests”

“If you want information to take to your boss, get rid of your shoes” Karen stared pleadingly at Roxy for a second, but then submitted to the request and stepped out of her already undone shoes and carried them over to the incinerator, her golden soles slapping loudly against the cold warehouse floor. Karen slung her shoes into the flames and walked barefoot back over to Roxy, who had been mesmerised by how gorgeous Karen’s small tanned toes looked against the otherwise drab greyness of the concrete floor. Karen followed Roxy’s eye line and smiled “Oh so you like feet do you? Miss Interpol has a fixation on my wonderful little toes, would you like to suck them little miss special agent?”

Roxy blushed, but nodded “That’s my other condition” Karen grinned and lifted her bare left foot and placed it on Roxy’s restrained wrist. She edged her foot along Roxy’s arm and finally placed her slightly dirty sole onto Saint’s face and wriggled her toes towards her open mouth. Roxy began to suck on her captors toes immediately and Karen found herself getting more and more eroticised by the minute as Roxy wrapped her tongue around her toes and sucked harder.

Roxy had never felt so alive. The smell of Karen’s sweaty sole beneath her nose, the tangy taste of her toes in her mouth as she ran her tongue along them, it was wonderful. Eventually though, Karen pulled her toes free of Roxy’s mouth and began tapping right barefoot on the concrete floor expectantly “Right, now tell me everything you know Saint or else I’ll find some hot pokers to poke at your vulnerable little tootsies with”

“I’m Agent Roxy Saint and I was sent to gather Intel on your boss, but I was captured by your goons before I got get a positive I.D. on him in the car” Karen nodded and picked the feather back up “Thank you Roxy, no we can continue our fun” She ran the feather over Roxy’s exposed and sensitive soles and she screamed with laughter “I’ve told you everything I know!”

“I know” Karen replied “But I like feet too” And with that, Karen tickled Roxy mercilessly through the night, running feathers and brushes all over Roxy’s long pale toes and her pink heels. Eventually though, the criminal organisation decided to turn her loose and Roxy made her way back to HQ, her bare feet glad of the cooling rain that was falling in the Parisian morning. The water caressed her tickled pink soles, and Roxy decided there and then to quit Interpol and start her own private pedicure company.

The End.
Here a tale about a hapless Interpol agent called Roxy Saint andd her ticklish soles.

Enjoy! :XD:
Add a Comment:
southerncrossfire44 Featured By Owner Sep 2, 2009
Oh, yeah, this is good stuff! I'm fond of the destruction of the footwear as a story element, and I really liked the twist of the mutual destruction in this one. The other twist I liked was Karen tickling her own feet. Neither of these twists occur very often, if ever (I can't think of any other examples at the moment). Well done, my friend!
barefoot-literature Featured By Owner Sep 2, 2009   Photographer
Thankyou very much! :aww: really glad you enjoyed it :w00t: :dance: I wasn't sure about the shoe destruction initially, but i decided to go with it and i'm glad its payed off! :w00t: :dance:

Really appreciate all your comments and support my friend :aww:
southerncrossfire44 Featured By Owner Sep 2, 2009
Yeah, the great thing about shoe destruction is that it just adds another level of dramatic tension. The shoes (and socks) aren't just off; they're completely gone!

As for the comments and support: we writers of barefoot fiction are a very small group, and I think it's extremely important to show support for the other members of that group. Even if it's just a brief compliment, acknowledgment of someone's work is a fantastic boost for an author. I always appreciate any comment, no matter how brief.
barefoot-literature Featured By Owner Sep 2, 2009   Photographer
Exactly! :XD: i love the idea that as soon as the shoes are gone, the protagonist has to complete the story barefoot :w00t: And I agree entirely that we barefoot writers need to stick together :w00t: :dance:

p.s. Really glad you enjoyed the story :w00t:

p.p.s. Thanks again for your support so far :)
southerncrossfire44 Featured By Owner Sep 3, 2009
Agreed on both counts!

Also, your stories are very good, and they deserve the support!
barefoot-literature Featured By Owner Sep 3, 2009   Photographer
Thankyou very much! :XD: really glad you like them :w00t: :dance:
ChristianPrime1-Bot Featured By Owner Sep 1, 2009  Hobbyist General Artist
Poor Roxy! XD

Another silly, short story from your wonderful mind. :aww:
barefoot-literature Featured By Owner Sep 1, 2009   Photographer
Thankyou very much! :aww: really glad you enjoyed the story :w00t: :dance:
Add a Comment:

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Submitted on
September 1, 2009
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