Rebecca tried the best she could. Once the shock subsided, she actually fought admirably. As well, at least, as could be expected of a slender teenage girl being actively assaulted by a half-dozen burly middle-aged men.
Especially as these men worked for the sinister Boundoggle Corporation, the quasi-legal slaving agency that specialized in procuring the loveliest girls for men with the money to pay for it and the cruel lust to want it. Specifically, she was in one of the many TeenFeet facilities--one of their most specialized, profitable subsidiaries.
Her trainer, Carl, had been notified of her coming just after her capture. The jailbait teen's reputation for beauty had preceded her; retrieval squads had been watching her for several days already as they waited for the right moment. There were already dozens of buy orders on her. CEOs, scientists, politicians, and even her high school principal were bidding on her. Most men she'd met were crazy for the girl. Carl glanced over her file--her A+ rating marked her as the primest of slave candidates. She was gorgeous, she was youthful, she was healthy. Once trained and properly drugged, she'd make a lovely creature, still trapped at age sixteen, for at least twenty years. And that was even with 'heavy use,' as the file politically phrased it. Her nubile body would stay supple and firm with even fairly intense bondage and tortures.
Of course, Carl wasn't responsible for that. Carl worked for one of Boundoggle's many fetish subsidiaries, where prime girls could catch even wilder prices than the mainstream market. In particular, Rebecca had been flagged years ago not only for her flawless body, hair, and features, but her impeccable, soft, delicate feet. TeenFeet specialized in such girls, and providing hungry men with a fine supply of the highest-quality soles to torment; the company diverged from the main foot-fetish line by its focus on exclusively teenaged girls.
Carl reviewed these notes as he marched down the main hallway in the Receiving Area. In bay 1, two obese orderlies were struggling with a frantic, blonde 14-year old wearing a disheveled cheerleader outfit. One of the men held her thin wrists in his hands while the other was struggling to grab the girl's ankles, but each time she kicked him away. Carl slowed a step and made a mental note to review that group's training protocol. Just before he strode on, the second man managed to seize the youth's ankle during a kick. He pulled off her shoe with a single motion, revealing a small, socked foot.
Bay 2 was empty, and in bay 3 a fully nude 15-year-old struggled in a perfectly-executed hogtie. One of her orderlies was technically in breach of his contract: he stood behind her, and was pressing one of her tightly-bound size-6 feet against his face and inhaling, while his other hand tickled her helpless sole. Carl chuckled and kept walking; the men deserved little bonuses like that. As long as the girls remained pure, everyone was happy. There was an expectation that all Boundoggle teens were virgins.
Carl winced as he passed bay 4, where two men were binding a 13-year old girl's wrists behind her back. She was still clothed; there was a tacit understanding that girls quite that young deserved some level of modesty. Of course, a third man was already peeling her socks off of her tiny feet and looping cord around her ankles. As she sobbed, one of the heavyset men leaned down and snaked his tongue over her wiggling toes.
A small crowd stood at the window of bay 5, where one of the directors had apparently taken an interest in a raven-haired seventeen-year-old. Carl vaguely recalled the girl's file; she'd been dragged kicking and screaming from her bedroom by an armed retrieval squad. Carl was surprised she was still here; that should have been hours ago. It was very uncommon for a girl to resist the Induction process for so long. He too stopped at the window and peered in.
Inside, the 62-year-old director had the girl tied up and naked. Carl nodded approvingly, as the girl was lovely. Not quite Rebecca, but lovely nevertheless. Her arms were tied behind her back, and she lay on her belly on a low table. Her feet were bound together with steel cuffs, which in turn were tied to her wrists, forcing her into a modified hogtie where her soles were exposed over her head.
A lovely head, she had, and one that was presently filled with the director's cock. He stood at the head of the low table and repeatedly shoved his hips forward, pushing his cock deeper into the teen girl's throat. Meanwhile, his hands raced back and forth across her shackled feet. Carl recognized the faint shimmer of TeenSole's proprietary moisturizer; an easily-applied, rapid-acting moisturizer that brought out the full fresh softness of teenage feet. It also added a faint scent of vanilla. And, of course, it made ticklish sensations much, much worse: even girls who weren't normally ticklish could be reduced to ruin with a quick application of the spray.
The helpless 17-year-old bucked and squirmed and gasped. It was clear she could barely breathe during the director's sustained assault on her soles; her laughing and gasping in turn made for what appeared to be a world-class blowjob. Carl grinned. This was, of course, against policy, but the director deserved it. Like Carl, he was an unattractive man, and had been even when he was young. Girls like this one would never look at him except to laugh. He deserved his chance at revenge, like all the rest of TeenFeet's clients.
Carl lingered a moment longer, enjoying the scene. The director removed one hand from his kidnapped captive's tortured feet, running it instead across her face and then pinching shut her pretty little nose. Carl knew what that meant, and he turned away, heading to the bay he'd originally intended.
He arrived as Rebecca was being restrained. One man held her wrists in his hands, while another was moving towards them with steel handcuffs. Another was holding her by the hair and groping one creamy breast; three more were at her feet, two holding her ankles while the third looped silk rope loosely around her ankles. Rebecca was resisting with all her might.
Carl strode past the scene, to the far end of the room where he had some papers to sign. A loud clink sounded out as a pair of cuffs slammed shut, followed by another.
Carl turned once his papers were filled out, to find Rebecca helplessly bound on the table before him. The girl was stunning, and even now desperately trying to cover her bare breasts. Her wrists were locked over her head and her ankles tied to a bar at the foot of the table. Her gorgeous hair was splayed out around her head like a halo.
"God, you really are something, Rebecca," Carl said, whistling. His eyes roamed over her flawless flesh, her supple curves. "No wonder they all want to pay so much for you." His gaze fell to her soft, creamy soles and cute, rounded toes. They looked so vibrant and unused that you'd think she'd never walked on them before.
"Sweet sixteen," Carl chuckled, running a hand down Rebecca's leg and then down one exposed sole. Sure enough, she was as soft as she looked. And, from the jump she gave as his finger touched her tender foot, quite ticklish.
Carl smiled. Some trainers liked to chat with their captives, but he was always impatient to get started. Of course, he wasn't sure how. Rebecca was going to be a footslave, that was clear. She'd perform the usual slave functions, using her perfect, teenage body to please her captor, but in addition she'd be frequently expected to perform fetish duties. On her file, the basic training would be footjobs, tickle torture, ice torture, general bondage, kidnap roleplay, blowjobs, and gang tickling.
Carl glanced at the girl's pretty face. Her wide eyes were staring up at him with fear. Appropriate fear, under the circumstances.
"Poor, pretty girl," Carl remarked.
With that, he decided to start training the teenager...
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