Shoes
She strode down the hall way, enjoying the click of her heels on the wooden floor. Looking into the full length mirror, she asked the question from the fairy tale, with her own twist.
“Mirror, mirror on the wall, who is the cruellest of them all?”
No answer was needed, any who had met her knew the answer. And rarely forgot it.
Her hair shone after being brushed. A small reward to a pleasing slave, for every stroke of her cane he had taken the night before he was allowed to stroke a brush through her hair this morning. It flowed like a river down her back.
She had laughed at how hard he had become to be allowed to perform this small service. A few well placed kicks had taken care of that minor inconvenience.
Straightening her shoulders, she admired how the corset sat on her figure. Pulling the waist in, emphasising her hourglass, womanly curves.
The black stockings, shone almost as much as her hair. Silk really was the only material for stockings. An extravagance she knew – but she was more than worth it.
She admired the tautness in her calves as her eyes travelled down to the shoes. Black leather, 5 inch heels, with an ankle strap to keep them in position. So necessary, can’t have a shoe flying off the foot as she was swinging her foot into his balls. And those beautiful steel heels.
She was shining top to bottom.
Entering the room she looked at him, kneeling, eyes down, hands on thighs, back straight. He had learnt how to present himself, eventually.
Walking around him and inspecting, she thought he really was the most delicious little slut. A good body kept trim by exercise, but he was not obsessive about it, a quick and agile mind that entertained her over dinner, but what made him truly delicious was that she owned him body, mind and soul. Hers to play with, manipulate, torture and he adored her for it.
“Crawl” she commanded and walked away quickly, knowing that the mitts on his hands would make it difficult to keep up at this pace. She needed no excuse to punish him, but sometimes it was fun.
Entering the play room, she tapped her foot waiting for him to arrive. He knew tapping = trouble. She knew the tapping would make him sneak a glance at her shoes. More excuses, more fun.
She handed him the cuffs to put on his ankles and wrists, tapping as she waited, he had to take off the mitts, tie the cuffs securely and re-tie the mitts. All this taking time, and making all the more excuses.
She has set up the ropes earlier, so now it was a simple matter of attaching them to the cuffs and he was spread out on the floor, face up. She stood over him, legs on either side of his chest, like the hawk looking down at a tasty morsel.
“Look at me” He raised his eyes to meet hers, the adoration there was tinged with fear and longing. He had been travelling a lot lately and they had not met for a few weeks. He needed a fix of his addiction to her and all that she gave him
She raised a foot and showed him the shoes, turning them, letting him admire the pointed toe and the vicious heel. She knelt down over him taking his mouth in a biting kiss and slipped the blindfold over his eyes.
Raising her foot she pressed the toe of the shoe to his mouth. He kissed it passionately, taking it into his mouth, moving she allowed him access to the heel. He sighed with pleasure as he sucked it. She ripped it from his mouth when his lips were closed, scraping the inside of his mouth. Forcing it back in, she raked it over the soft, moist skin inside his cheek, ran it along his tongue, all the while the toe of the shoe covered his nose, making it hard to breath, and when he did it was of leather.
She trailed the steel spike down over his chin, his throat and to his chest. Back out to the tender skin under his arms, turning and twisting the heel so it dug into the flesh. Small red marks appearing with satisfying speed.
Adjusting her position over him, she placed the heel on his nipple and began to grind it in. His gasps were her food, fuelling her onward. Down his flank, over his belly, the vicious heel leading a trail of red in its wake. Grabbing the overhead bar for support, she put her full weight onto the heel as it dug unmercifully into him.
Changing to the other side of him she did the same, creating patterns on his delicious body,
pinching the skin, digging and dragging the heel over him.
She caught his balls with her heel and began to probe them. He was moaning, enjoying himself, the little slut. Moving the heel between his cock and balls, she dragged it up the shaft. Who needed a gym with this type of workout for the legs? So much more fun.
She twisted his cock around the heel, making sure to catch the head as it passed. Letting it return to his belly, before grinding the toe into his balls. Drawing her leg back, delivering a small kick. His scream, her reward for her ministration.
With a quick motion, she was kneeling astride him, her legs behind her, the toes of the shoes digging into his balls again. Squeezing them tightly. She really needed to get some shoes with steel toes. She would enjoy using them.
She dived forward taking his mouth, biting the lips and stretching them away from him face. Her small sharp teeth, marking his mouth. His neck was devoured as if she were a vampire. The pressure continued on his balls through the shoes, changing as she changed positions, but always there, pinching and digging.
She stood releasing the knots on his arms and legs. The afternoon was young and she was in a vicious mood.
“Stand”
