Batgirl Feet Novels & Stories

“You can leave the heels on, they look good on your feet.” The command lands between your legs like a wet slurply tongue gliding against your clit. It makes your panties super wet. With shaking fingers, you unbutton your cream silk blouse and let it slide off your shoulders. The lace bra beneath is black today. Your skirt comes next as you reach for the zipper by the side. Once it’s down, you pull it to your knees until it pools at your feet. You step out of it, standing in only bra, panties, and the brown four-inch Louboutins.

The razor left faint pink trails that faded almost immediately, but the anticipation lingered. Back in the bedroom, I chose the black lace bodysuit. Sheer panels cupped my bréásts, the delicate weave barely concealing the dark peaks of my nípplés, already stiff from the cool air and the promise of the night. High-cut legs framed my hips; the thong was little more than a whisper of lace between my folds. I added the Catwoman pieces from the red room: pointed ears clipped securely into my hair, the black mask settling over my eyes like a second skin, whiskers drawn with precise strokes of liquid eyeliner. The tail clipped to the small of my back, swaying gently with every movement. Thigh-high

It didn’t fall so much as it surrendered, pooling at her feet in a dark heap. Lila looked at herself. Her breasts were full, the tips already tight and dark in the cool air of the room. She followed the curve of her own waist down to her hips, her skin pale against the backdrop of the night. Her legs were long, toned from years of yoga and the frantic pace of her city life, but right now, they felt weak.

Stilettos clicking on a marbled floor was the sound Audrey grown accustomed to since moving to the city. It sounded more appealing to her ear when she was the one making the sound. High heels are power. And she traded sneakers for power. Her feet weren’t always clad in stilettos. She was once a doe-eyed girl who thought her purpose in life was as simple as her best friend Rachel’s was. However, the naiveté wears off when childhood faded in the background.

She had no skirt instead her full white ass and hips were bare followed again at her tummy with another rubber garment, a corset so tight her waist looked like a cartoon Jessica rabbit character with the massive encased bosom included. Her tits were encased in the rubber too showing an amazing bottomless cleavage pressed tightly closed together. Her shoulders were also bare with both her arms behind her back wrapped together in a rubber bandage, like some black mummy. The bandage went from elbows all the way to two rubber gloved hands, her long fingers stretching the material to its limits.

"Jesus, can you just please help me put him down now? And don't be such a pussy, I'll show it to you later." She had a tattoo on the sole of her feet, which was an extremely sensitive area for a tattoo and much like the palms of her hands, yet they presented a special challenge for the artist who drew them before. Both the soles of her feet were a little callused, and not every style could be done properly in that area, so she let the artist draw a two-set of vampire fangs, and thinking about it made her realise how coincidental it was for her to choose a vampire fang. Fate maybe?

Chloe’s POV The next evening I stood in front of the full-length mirror in my suite, heart hammering as I adjusted the policewoman costume Jeff had left for me. The outfit was ridiculously hot, a tight black latex top that zipped up the front and pushed my breasts up into deep cleavage, a short pleated skirt that barely covered my ass, thigh-high stockings with garters, and shiny black boots that reached my knees. A police hat sat tilted on my loose auburn hair, and I’d added a pair of handcuffs dangling from my belt and a prop baton tucked into a loop. Underneath, I wore nothing but a tiny black lace thong that was already damp.

It wasn't a buckle one though. "I'm coming mum!" Beatrice replied and came closer to me as she handed me a nude clutch that matched along with my heels. "I'll go attend to him," She said while I nodded. Leticia was finished tying the straps on my right foot and I placed my hand on her shoulder to support me as I stood up. I took a step and gulped... I'm not the kind of person who wears heels regularly but I was good at walking with them. "Wow! You look so beautiful!" Leticia said behind me with her hands clasped together that rested on her chin.

Anyone Finn spoke of with that kind of awe in his voice was welcome on my team. Spots of dull silver dotted her thighs. Her long blonde hair was pulled up in a high knot. The sleeves of her suit thingy came up and laced through her fingers like gloves. Her boots came up to her knees and looked made of the tough denier fabric of military footwear. Since I hadn't heard her approach, I guessed they were also made with a specialized rubber sole.

All of which makes her appear as soft as a wisp if not for the detail in leather, crisscrossed under her perfect C-cup breasts and cinching her waist. A touch of strength, bravery and triumph, just enough to give my brave Farfalla the presence of a true warrior. I hold my hand out for her to take as she reaches the last step. Her dark hair is pinned up into a messy bun, with loose waves framing her make-up-free face. Heat blisters across her cheek as a soft smile touches the corners of her mouth, and she places her hand in mine. I raise it to my mouth, pressing a feather-light kiss on the inside of her palm, letting my lips linger over her sensitive skin.