Locked in Boots' Brig (Patreon)

Storytime! Gonna try posting my first story here! Let's see how it looks...

---

Cacophonous echoes danced around Shantae when she finally came to. She groaned and shook her head to try to clear the confusion away as she blearily blinked at her surroundings.

“Where am I?” Her voice sounded strange, even to her. The room wasn’t particularly large, and it seemed accommodating enough for her seated position. Dark wood planks defined the walls as they domed around her, though the room was definitely longer than it was wide, as if the prime architectural inspiration was taken away from an upturned boat. Speaking of boats… was that the sound of water? There was a gentle sway to the room, almost unnoticeable, and—wait. Sway? Sitting? She was sitting?

Shantae’s eyes shot open as she tried to rush to her feet, only to find they were trapped in front of her. They rested comfortably over the curvature of what looked like the back of a treasure chest, only with another set of wood layered over the top of the chest’s lid. This resulted in a rather opulent set of stockades for her slippered feet. Shantae squirmed on her butt to try to wiggle her feet out of the stocks, only to notice she couldn’t pull her arms down to better level herself either.

“Wh-what?!” Her eyes shot up to the ceiling, where saw the shapely form of her arms wrapped at the wrist, dangling from a long, thick rope that was anchored at the ceiling. She pulled her arms down as best as she could but found that they wouldn’t budge an inch. Hefting a grunt, Shantae tried harder, succeeding only in pulling her own body up, the lithe muscles of her arms rippling from the effort. With her feet trapped as they were, she could only pull herself up to a certain point before she was forced to drop back down.

And all the while, the echoes around her clarified to the sound of clear voices. She wasn’t alone.

“Well, well, looks like our sleeping beauty woke up.”

Shantae whipped her head forward, wearing a mixture of alarm and anger. She watched as two figures emerged from the shadows, and she recognized them both. One was flashing her signature smirk, and the other her playful smile.

“Risky? Rotty? What gives?!” Shantae fired at them, beginning to squirm anew.

“I’m the one who should be asking that,” she heard Risky say. “You’re always messing things up. Do you know how hard it was to get you in here?”

“Not hard enough!” Shantae growled as her arms surged down again, succeeding only in lifting her butt off the ground, her toes visibly scrunching against her slippers.

“Hehe! She’s just so cute when she’s all fired up like that,” this time Rotty spoke. Shantae felt her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment and frustration.

“You gave me and my crew plenty trouble… But don’t worry, I intend to pay it all back.”

Shantae drew back as far as she could as she watched Risky approach her, with Rotty giggling behind. The half-genie realized what was going to happen before Risky even began to wrap her hands around Shantae’s right foot.

“You’re the absolute worst!” Shantae shut her eyes as she cried out.

Risky ignored her captive, her eyes focused on the red slippers in her hands. She let the pads of her fingers graze over the soft, dark skin peeking from the bare tops of the slippers. Her movements were immediately rewarded with an angry little whine as Shantae’s feet twitched, even from such seemingly innocuous touches. 

The pirate giggled wickedly to herself as her hands suddenly slid down along the sides of Shantae’s foot, her fingertips slipping beneath her captive’s heel to free the skin from its slippered prison. Risky didn’t see Shantae’s glare as she stared, transfixed, at the half-genie’s bared sole. A pale shade of honey, lighter than the skin atop, dominated the bottom of her foot, the hues more intensely accentuated where the bottom made contact with the ground. There was no mistaking the dancer’s shape to the foot. Shantae’s toes were beautifully rounded, and the balls were well-defined, the valley between them exquisite as it led Risky’s attention down the length of her sole. A few sensuous wrinkles gave testament to the tenderness of the flesh, the slope of the sole dipping up to a stop at her immaculate heel.

Though she’d never admit it, Risky found her captive’s feet absolutely delectable, even if she’d never really been fond of any other pair of feet, even her own. Fortunately, she would not have to do any admitting any time soon. Not when Rotty was as eloquent as always, anyway.

“Aww! Shantae, your feet are so cute!”

Risky smirked over at Rotty as she appeared by the pirate’s side. Unlike her friend, the zombie wasted no time in flipping away Shantae’s other slipper from the half-genie’s foot. Eloquent and tactful…

“Aww! They’re even cuter together like this!”

Shantae could not help the whimper rising in her throat as she rubbed her feet against each other, back against sole, one over the other. The nervous gesture did her no good. The bottoms of her feet were soft, warm, and just a little damp with sweat. She glanced uneasily from one girl to the other, before blinking in confusion. She had just realized that the other two were barefoot as well.

“Why aren’t you we-hahaha! Wahahahahait!” Shantae burst into flustered laughter. Risky looked over to see Rotty already working away at their captive’s bared foot. Her technique was sloppy but undeniably effective. What she lacked in grace, she more than made up for in enthusiasm. Rotty’s sharp fingertips scribbled over Shantae’s sensitive sole, the flesh yielding beneath every digit’s motion. Her foot pulled and danced, trembling madly under the sensations as Rotty chased after every movement, fixated only on the delightful feeling of that unbearably ticklish skin, silky and supple, beneath her touch. She wore an expression of mischievous glee, her teeth bared in a cheery smile as she played, her grin flashing wider every time a particularly frantic shriek cut through Shantae’s melodious storm of laughter.

Risky could notice the blush on the zombie’s cheeks as well. Typical. She turned her attention to the half-genie’s free foot.

“Pleheheheaahahaase! Stahahahahap! I-yeehee! I can’t breheheheheathe!” Shantae managed through her laughter. Her mirth rose an octave, more flustered and panicked when she felt a freshly teasing assault on her free foot. Shantae’s eyes shot open, already brimming with tears, to throw a pleading look at the pirate, whose only reply was a deepened smirk. 

Risky’s deft digits practiced long strokes and glides, her technique in direct contrast to the mad flurry of fingers Rotty was directing at the half-genie’s jolting foot. The pirate relished in the soft texture beneath her fingertips, favoring the longer strokes for the deeper melody she drew from Shantae’s otherwise predominantly squealing hysteria. She let her fingertips graze from the base of her heel all the way up to the underneaths of her arches. She circled a forefinger around the ball, lingering and dipping at the valley that led down the arch. She grazed lightly between each toe to freshly frenetic howls, using her other hand to glide along the half-genie’s heel to splay those toes when they would desperately scrunch around the pirate’s fingers, serving only to trap them in those moist, unbearably ticklish spaces.

Risky was swift when she pleased and slow when she pleased, but her long, gliding strokes always ended with a flourishing fingernail. That touch never failed to produce a more violent shiver amidst the dancing trembles. The sight of the tender, honey-hued flesh moving beneath her fingertips was simply beyond captivating. Risky gazed up to flash her wicked satisfaction at her breathless captive, who no longer even had the capacity to speak. Shantae bounced on her butt as she squirmed, her body wriggling, her head shaking from side to side in wild, tearful laughter.

“Ohh! I have a better idea! You’re okay here, right, Risky?” Rotty turned to the pirate with a happy smile, her fingertips not letting up for a second as they continued to wreak ticklish havoc upon poor Shantae’s madly twitching foot.

“Mhmm,” was all Risky said as Rotty got up. The slapping of the zombie’s bare feet on the plank floor was barely audible as Risky spread her attention to both feet, her gliding, merciless pace not letting up for a second.

Shantae’s eyes shot open as she watched Rotty approach, her expression a silent, hysterical plea for mercy that was only answered by the zombie’s cheerful, oblivious smile. Rotty got on her knees beside Shantae, faced the half-genie, and lunged her fingertips against the soft, warm hollows of her underarms. Shantae’s screams of laughter were deafening. Her butt shot up into the air as she pulled down desperately with her arms, but Rotty simply moved on to her captive’s belly in response. The zombie giggled to herself, delighting in making a true belly dancer of her prey as she poked and prodded the sensitive skin. The muscles of Shantae’s lithe belly flinched with every touch. Her strength failing her, Shantae dropped on her rump again, her eyebrows arched in helpless mirth as one of Rotty’s hands ascended to tease a smooth, sensitive underarm, the other hand goosing the half-genie’s hips.

Shantae was positive she was going to go insane. Her howling peals of laughter echoed through the room as her tormenters were absolutely merciless in setting her nerves alight. Ticklish lightning screamed across her skin, her face beet-red from humiliation and unwilling mirth. She could barely feel her feet, apart from the unbearable ticklish fire painted across her bottoms in long, sweeping strokes, and no matter how she twisted her torso, Rotty’s maddeningly thorough touch followed.

Beneath her, she felt the ship heave and sway, a bell ringing overhead, the sound remarkably overpowered by the sheer force of the half-genie’s hysteria. It was going to be a long trip.