As Harry’s socked foot continued to curl, Jaya returned to his left bare foot and took his little toe into her mouth.

Harry leapt forward, the bondage creaking as he blinked away blurred vision, “Bliiiiimey. I didn’t expect to be crying tonight! …”

She sucked it slow and deliberate, like it was the sweetest lollipop she’d ever tasted. Her tongue swirled around it, lips sealed tight, the wet heat enveloping the sensitive digit completely. She hummed softly around it, the vibration travelling straight up his leg. Harry’s eyes fluttered half-shut. A broken moan escaped him, mixing with the last remnants of breathless laughter. Jaya gave his little toe one last slow suck, then let it slip from her mouth with a soft, wet sound. She pressed a final kiss to the pad of it and looked up at him, eyes bright.

As Jaya slid off the bed, Harry felt the sudden absence of her weight on his leg and the cool air against his skin where her thighs had been gripping him. For a few seconds there was only the sound of his own ragged breathing, then he heard the soft sound of her walking away.

“Where’d you get so kinky?” He huffed, grinning as his tongue licked his teeth, “Can I get a glass of water? You’re knackerin’ me out, babe!”

Jaya returned a minute later carrying the large snakeskin bag. She stopped right beside the bed, in Harry’s line of sight, and tipped it upside down. The contents spilled out onto the sheets beside his face with a soft clatter.

Black rope.

White string.

A soft-looking grooming glove.

A bottle of thick white lotion.

And a plastic hairbrush with firm bristles.

Harry’s eyes flicked over the items, then up to her. His voice was still hoarse from all the screaming, but the cocky edge was still there.

“What’s all that?”

Jaya crouched down so her face was level with his, purple hair falling forward. She gave him a slow, wicked smile.

“I wasn’t lying when I said my dragon’s had toys …”

Harry let out a short, disbelieving laugh, eyebrows shooting up.

“…You’re actually serious.”

She didn’t answer. Just stood up and walked around to the foot of the bed.

Harry twisted his head as far as he could, trying to watch her, “Oi. Babe. You’re not actually gonna—”

Jaya picked up the black rope and started looping it around the existing robe belt that held his ankles together. She pulled it tight, then fed it under the bed frame, knotting it securely so his feet were now lashed even more firmly in place, soles up and helpless.

Harry felt the extra tension and gave a short, strained chuckle.

“Did you, like, plan this or sumfin?” He was naked, she was not, “Wait, I can’t get out,” he was tied, she was not, “I might start screamin’ for help, you know!”

Jaya remained silent as she grabbed one of the spare pillows from the head of the bed and dropped it over his ankles, creating a frame of bedding around his bare soles. Then she climbed onto the bed and settled herself on the pillow, perching comfortably over his trapped feet, facing away from him. Her weight pressed his ankles down firmly into the edge of the mattress.

“Oh, I’m actually going to lose my head …” Harry muttered, as Jaya peeled away his remaining sock.

Jaya reached for the lotion, flipped the cap open with her thumb, and squeezed a generous amount directly onto both of his upturned soles. The cool, thick liquid landed in two fat, glossy lines across his arches and heels. Harry’s toes curled instantly at the sensation, his feet crossing over quickly, creating an X shape.

“Fuck! That’s cold!”

She started spreading it slowly with her fingers, working it into every inch of his soles, between his toes, over the balls of his feet. The lotion made his skin glisten under the morning light like polished, slippery satin. Harry’s feet flexed and squirmed in her grip, but the new rope and pillow kept them almost completely pinned as he huffed, panted, wheezed and bit into his shoulder.

“You’re really going to town with this, aren’t you?” He said, voice caught between a laugh and disbelief, “I don’t think any girls I’ve met are like you …”

Jaya didn’t answer. She picked up the white string.

Harry’s eyes widened when he felt it.

“No. No no no,” he shook his head, “Don’t do— right, I’m only avin’ this for five minutes, then you’ve got to stop, yeh?”

She looped the string around his left big toe, then his right, pulling them together so both soles were snug, side by side. She tied it off neatly, nice and tight, in not one but two knots.

Jaya picked up the grooming glove and slid it onto her left hand. The soft nubby texture looked deceptively gentle. In her right hand she picked up the plastic hairbrush.

“You’ve got to be joking,” Harry said, voice cracking with a mix of nerves and that same cocky disbelief, “You’re taking the absolute piss now.”

Jaya flexed her gloved fingers, the nubs catching the light.

The first touch was the grooming glove - soft nubs dragging slowly down the centre of his right arch. The lotion made everything slippery; the nubs glided then caught, sending electric sparks racing up his leg. Harry’s whole body jolted so hard the bed lifted and dropped with a loud thud. An empty champagne glass on the bedside table toppled and smashed.

“—BABE!— ”

The word tore out of him, raw and cracking into wild laughter. He couldn’t shout “JAYA!” because he didn’t know her well enough, so “BABE!” exploded out first. Even through the hysteria he was fighting - yanking his leg with everything he had left, foot twisting and kicking furiously between her thighs, toes clawing and flexing as his big toes remained stuck. His laughter came in huge, hyena-like cackles.

“—AGGGHHHAHAHAHAH, ahahahahHAHAHAHAHaha— no— hahahAHAHAHAHahahahah! HAHAHAHAhahaha— JAYAAAAA! Get— hahah— off!— my— HAHA—! JAYA JAAAHAHAHA— nnn— AHAHahahahahah— yer-evil!— nn, aahahahahahahaha!— ”

Jaya didn’t start slow. The hairbrush joined in on his left sole at the same time - firm bristles scrubbing in quick, chaotic circles while the gloved hand spidered and raked across the right. The lotion turned every stroke into pure slippery torment; the nubs dragged and flicked, the bristles scrubbed and flicked, the two sensations mixing into something unbearable. His string-tied toes tried desperately to curl and hide the ball of his foot but couldn’t. The taut soles wrinkled and stretched in frantic waves as he fought.

Jaya kept going, one hand pinning his big toes back even tighter with the string while the other worked without mercy.

“… I’m going to keep going long after you start begging, long after you start crying, long after you decide you hate me …”

He kept struggling the entire time - rolling his hips, pulling on the arm restraints, trying to twist onto his side, doing everything he could to protect his feet even while the tickling had him screaming with laughter. Harry, breathless, laughing so hard he could barely breathe, still managed to shoot her a look that very clearly said: you’re so getting it later!

Even after acknowledging the glare, Jaya didn’t let up. The grooming glove’s nubs raked in tight, merciless patterns across the glistening right arch while the hairbrush’s bristles attacked the left in fast, repetitive strokes. Thin white lines bloomed across the flushed, lotion-slick skin wherever the tools dragged too hard or too fast - ghost-trails that flushed pink again almost instantly, only to be replaced by new ones seconds later. The sight seemed to please her. She could hear the soft, delighted hum in her throat every time a fresh set of lines appeared on his shiny soles.

“… You’re going to resent every second of this …” she promised. “… You’re going to lie here wishing you could call the police, wishing you’d never met me …”

“—JAAAYAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHA ahahaha AHAHAHA ahahahaha YAAAAHAHAHAHAHA GUHAAAAA, NAAAAHAAAHAHAHahahahahaAHAAH—mm, my fffffee, ffffff—eeee! NAH BABE, too, TOO, eee, ee, MUH, MUCH, HAHAHAaahaahahaAAHAHAHAahaha—nn?? NOO, doh, oh, NAUGHTY, wait, no, wait, no, wait, PLEASE, what! Why, no, OK Jaya I’M BEGGING YOU! What wait wha— pleaseDON’T!— ”

Jaya’s gloved hand curled around the top of his right foot, nubs sliding between his toes and then peeling them back even further, stretching the sole into a taut, helpless curve. The skin there was already flushed deep pink and shiny with lotion, marked with a delicate lattice of temporary white lines. With the hairbrush she went straight for the newly exposed, tender spaces - quick, wicked little scrubs right under the ball and between the toes.

“… But you won’t be able to do anything except take it …” Jaya snarled. “… Because I’m not stopping until you pass out right here in your own cum …”

Harry’s laughter changed instantly. It shot up into something high and bright and completely unhinged. The wild shrieking peaks were still there, but they came out thinner now, edged with hysteria, every burst cracking and splintering into pure lunacy.

“—JAYA AHAHAHAHA ahahahah AHAHAAHA AHAHAHA AHAHAHAHA JAYA AHAHAAHAH ahahahaha AHAHAHAH—no—GAHAHAAAHAHAHAHA AAHAHAHAA OH this is ev-AHAHAHAHA AHAHAHHAAHAHA AHAHAHAHAHA—IthinkI’mhyperventilatin’!—AGAAAAHAHAHAAA AAAAHAHAHAA AAA AAHAAHAAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAA!— ”

The sound filled the room, high and manic. Harry’s eyes flew wide, glassy and shining, staring back at her from beneath his raised arm. From that angle he could only see her back, the smooth line of her spine, the way her shoulder blades shifted with every precise movement. Her dark purple hair tumbled down her back, a few damp strands clinging to the light sheen of sweat along her skin. He watched the subtle play of muscle across her shoulders as she worked, the way her body stayed settled and powerful over his trapped legs.

“… And when you wake up, brown eyes …” Jaya’s promise had turned into a threat, “… we might just start all over again.”

Around Harry the sheets were a wreck, wrinkled, damp with sweat and the constant sticky drag of his cock. The discarded ball gag lay inches from his cheek. His bound wrists flexed uselessly above his head. Every frantic roll of his hips ground his ringed erection harder against the mattress, the friction vicious and relentless. All he could feel was the electric, unbearable tickling across his lotion-slick, toe-tied soles and the way his own laughter kept resetting into fresh, hysterical peaks every time she changed the angle of the glove or brush.

“—JAAAYAAAAAA AAAAAHAHAHAHAHA AAAAHAHAHAHAHA-ohgod—AAAAHAHAHAHAHA JAAAYAAAAAHAHAHAH, ohmygod, AHAAAAGAAAAHAHHHHAAAAHHaahahahahahahaahaaaaghaaaahahahahaha, give me, a break - AGHAA AAAHAAHAHAHAHAAAahaahaahhaahaha AAAAGGGAAHAHAHAHAahahahaha, you’re ridic, ridicul-OAAAHAHA AHAAHAHAHAHahahahahaAHAHAHAHahahaha! BitOBSESSEDAAAAGGGAAHAHAHAHAahahahaha, withmy-AAAGGGAAHAHAHAHAahahahaha, FEET, AAAGGGAAHAHAHAHAahahahaha, aren'tyou?- AAAAHAHAHA AHAHAHAHAH AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA ohhohhahahahaoooohhahahahahahaohhah, ahaahhAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAA!—”

Jaya’s answering laugh was low and rich. She didn’t stop. If anything, she got a little meaner - the grooming glove’s nubs focusing right under the ball of his right foot in quick, fluttering strokes while the hairbrush scrubbed the left in tight circles that made his toes flex and stretch violently in the air.

“Oh yes,” she purred, leaning closer so her breath washed warm over his glistening sole, “I am utterly obsessed, dragon boy …”

“—AAGHHHAAAA AGAAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA AAAGAHHAHAAA AAAA-DO, DO, DO YOU JUST AGAAAAAHAHA AHAAHAHAHAHAHAH DO YOU JUAAAAAAHAHAHAHAAAAHUST DO THIS TO EVERY, every gu, guh, GUY you meeeheheheheheheheheeeeeeet! GAAAHAHAAAAA AAAAHAHAHAAA AHAHAHAHAHAHAA!—”, he gasped out, the words tumbling between another fit of wheezing, unstoppable laughter as the hairbrush suddenly darted to the outer edge of his arch and raked around his heel in a repetitive circular motion.

Jaya didn’t miss a beat. She kept working, gloved hand now pinning his big toes back while the brush attacked the length and base without mercy.

“As many as I can,” she answered, voice smooth and conversational even as his feet thrashed and twisted under her touch, “But you’re my favourite so far. By a mile!”

Harry let out a broken, disbelieving sound that was half laugh, half sob.

“—YOU TRICKED ME DIDN’T YOU!— ”

“Of course I did!” Jaya said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. The grooming glove slowed just enough for him to catch his breath for half a second, then sped up again in a new, vicious pattern right across the centre of his arch while the brush worked the other foot in perfect sync. “I knew you’d be up for some kink. But I can tell a sensitive guy like you isn’t giving his weaknesses away unless they’re taken …”

Over the next few hours, the white lines kept appearing across both shiny, lotion-slick soles. His feet were a map of them now, criss-crossing over the flushed, glistening skin. Harry’s laughter had gone fully hoarse, almost silent at the peaks, just his body jerking and his mouth open in a wide, silent howl before sound would rip out again. Tears streaked sideways across his face into the pillow. His cock squashed into the cum-stained sheets, grinding down into the mattress with every frantic roll of his hips …

Jaya didn’t slow down. She shifted her weight forward on the pillow, pinning his ankles even more firmly, and went straight back in - harder, faster, and far more deliberate than before. This technique went on for another whole hour …

Harry’s whole body arched off the bed so hard the headboard slammed against the wall. A raw, broken scream of laughter tore out of him - louder and more desperate than anything that had come before. Another 30 minutes in and Harry had started to panic, the physical response from having his feet bound, toe tied and tickled this intensely having a serious effect on his lungs.

“—BAHAHAHAH-ahahahaha-aahahahahk-AHAHAHAHAHAHHBE— AHAHAHAHAHAH—NO—nono— AHAHAHAHA-ahahahahahahahaha-ahahaahhahahahahahahak-HNNUUHHH—I—I’VE—I’VE HAD ENOUGH—I GENUINELY CAN’T—” gulp, “—FACE, HURTS— AHAHAHAHAHAHAH!—”

The words came out in ragged, hysterical bursts between helpless howls. He was laughing so hard he genuinely couldn’t pull air into his lungs. Every other minute (and there were dozens of them) he tried to suck in a breath another wave of tickling ripped it away. His abs were burning, cramping, contracting so violently they felt like they were tearing. Sweat poured off him in sheets, soaking the already ruined bedding beneath his chest and stomach.

“—AIR! I nee, need, JUST A bit, bit of a br, OF AIR, AHAHAHAHAHAH, ahahahahahahah, aahahahahaha PLEASE!—”

His feet went wild. Both soles, shiny and slick with lotion, snug together by the white string around his big toes, thrashed and spasmed like they were being electrocuted. They were so ticklish, so soft, so completely at her mercy - and Jaya was taking full advantage, for literal hours on end …

She pressed harder with both tools, dragging them slowly and sadistically from heel to toes on each foot in perfect sync, letting him feel every single bristle and every single nub as they travelled the full length of his helpless soles.

Harry bucked and bounced beneath her like a man possessed. The bed frame groaned and creaked violently. His bound wrists yanked uselessly above his head. He had to try to escape. Another fifteen minutes passed …

“—PLEASE— AHAHAHAHAHAH— I—I CAN’T— ICAN’TTAKEIT?—JAYA— JAYAAAAA— I’M— I’M GONNA—isn’t, isn’t fair—AHAHAHAHAHAH! OH PLEASE I CAN’T TAKE, TAKE, take, take …—”

His voice was cracking, breaking into high, thin, panicked shrieks. Real fear was in it now - not the playful kind from earlier, but genuine, breathless terror that he couldn’t get enough air. His face was flushed dark red, emotion streaming sideways across his cheeks into the pillow. Drool ran from the corner of his open mouth. His entire body was trembling, muscles locking and unlocking in violent spasms.

Jaya never let up.

She kept the same slow, heavy, devastating strokes - heel to toes, heel to toes - while the speed and pressure behind them stayed brutal. The hairbrush bristles dug in. The grooming glove nubs ground and raked. His beautiful, soft, lotion-slick soles were completely overwhelmed, completely dominated. She owned every inch of them and she knew it.

Harry’s laughter started to fracture. It came in shorter, weaker bursts. His body kept jerking and bucking, but the movements were losing coordination. His chest heaved desperately, trying to drag in air that wouldn’t come. The room filled with the wet, broken sound of his hysteria and the steady, merciless scrubbing of the tools on his feet.

Then, slowly, the sound began to fade.

At the start of the fourth hour, his laughter turned thinner… then silent for longer and longer stretches. His body seized up in one last violent, trembling arch, toes splaying wide, soles stretched and shining and completely at her mercy.

And then the room went quiet.

Harry went completely limp.

His head dropped heavily into the pillow. His body sagged into the mattress. The only movement left was the occasional weak twitch of his overstimulated feet and the shallow, unconscious rise and fall of his back as he breathed.

Jaya kept the tools moving for another few seconds, just to be sure, watching his beautiful, helpless soles twitch and flutter under the bristles and nubs. Then she stopped.

She sat there for a moment, breathing steadily, a slow, deeply satisfied smile spreading across her face as she looked down at what she had done. The room was finally silent except for the faint sound of London traffic far below and Harry’s ragged, unconscious breathing.

She stood up, peeled off the grooming glove, and dropped it into the snakeskin bag along with the hairbrush and the near-empty bottle of lotion. She coiled the black rope and the white string neatly and packed them away too. The time on the bedside clock said 8:07 a.m. She had completely lost track of the night.

Harry remained unconscious the entire time - face down, naked, his body glistening with sweat, the sheets beneath him a wrecked, creased mess. Thick, cold ropes of his own cum were still smeared between his thighs and across the bedding.

Jaya slipped her heels back on. She walked over to the hotel desk, picked up a ballpoint pen, and knelt at the foot of the bed.

She took her time.

On his left sole she wrote DRAGON in bold, deliberate letters, pressing hard enough that the ink sank into the soft, sensitive skin. On his right sole she wrote BOY. Even unconscious, his feet twitched and his toes curled at the sensation of the pen dragging across them. She smiled at the little involuntary reactions.

When she was finished she lifted the pen to her lips, sucked the tip clean with a soft, satisfied sound, and placed it neatly back on the desk.

She stood, looked down at him one last time - the unconscious, sweat-soaked, cum-stained actor she had completely broken - and felt a deep, quiet contentment settle in her chest.

“Sweet dreams, my …