Foot Slave Novels & Stories

If her husband's reputation didn't matter, she would have thrown in these pricey shoes to keep any rodents out of their home. "These shoes are called stilettos; they are lovely, pricey heels that give women an exquisite appearance." He indicated a shoe box that belonged to him but not to his wife. "I could care less. What? My leg hurts right now." She complained as she massaged her swollen, red ankles, but before she could finish, she fell. Fortunately, she did not dislocate her ankle, but she still had to give up one of her ankles. The gel that had been heated in the oven was in Davino's hand as he gripped Safira's ankle angrily. He applied slow, deliberate pressure.

I rolled out of reach of him, trying to kick him but he grabbed my foot and yanked me so hard it nearly took my entire leg off. This made me scream in pain; both my feet felt like they were on fire. This only proved it. Something was wrong. these shoes were digging into my flesh.

The hole in the right one let in cold air every time I stepped into a puddle. By the time I finished cleaning the first floor, my feet were killing me. I was mopping the main hallway when it happened. I stepped backward to rinse my mop, and the sole of my left boot finally gave up completely. It separated from the upper part with a wet tearing sound, leaving me standing in a puddle with my sock exposed. "Perfect," I said to the empty hallway. I tried to keep working, but walking with one boot that was basically falling off my foot was impossible. The sole flapped with every step, and water seeped through immediately.

“Cum all over my pretty feet. I want to feel it.” That was all it took. Marcus groaned loudly as his orgasm hit. Thick ropes of cum erupted across her soles and toes , the first spurt landing on her arch, the next coating her crimson-painted toes. He kept stroking himself with her feet as he came, painting her soft skin with every pulse. Sophia flexed her toes, spreading his warm load between them and over the tops of her feet until they were glistening with a messy, erotic sheen.

I whisper, my fingers trembling on the fabric. Sophie gasps, snatching it to drape over me. “Leah! This is… wow. The back? Insane. And it’s so soft. He’s got taste.” I’m still frozen when she dives into the next bag. Outcome the shoes are sleek black patent leather strappy sandals with delicate crisscross ankle straps and a sharp pointed toe. The heel is a wicked four inches, thin and high, promising endless legs and careful steps. Sophie slips one onto my foot right there on the couch; it fits like a glove.

I'd have to appear more formal. "I've got this pretty straight black skirt, sure to hug your spectacular curves, and a pretty black T-shirt with nice designs on both sides," she went to her shoe rack. "For footwear, I have these four-inch toe pump stilettos." "Hell, no," it was my turn to grimace. "Heels hurt my feet. I'm not as graceful in my footsteps as you are, Soph." I soon ate up my words after I wore everything Sophie told me to.

Standing on her feet carefully, she began to walk but after taking two steps, her body shuddered lightly as one of her high heels slipped out from her toes. Her breathing hitched knowing the end of her career right now.

"Mrs. Shaw asked me to remove all non-slip-resistant shoes. With your arms injured, she's worried about you falling again." Her words touched me deeply. "My mom always worries too much," I said softly, feeling the emotion rise in my throat. Then I noticed Lily placing the white chunky-heeled leather shoes Logan had given me into a box. "Those shoes have thick heels and are quite comfortable," I protested. Lily turned the shoe over, showing me the sole. "Ms. Shaw, these aren't slip-resistant. This type of sole is extremely dangerous on hardwood or marble floors."

I turned and stared at him in surprise, while he pointed at my shoes, "Aren't those like ....deathly painful?" I so badly wanted to say yes but I was trying so hard to not make a fool of myself. "Hold on," he said to me and walked over to his table. He pulled out a pair of white flip-flops from a drawer and walked back to where I stood. To my surprise, he squatted in front of me and placed the flip-flops on the floor. "You can make use of the flip-flops for now," he said as he held my leg and carefully removed it from the shoe.

I can just imagine the tiny dingy floating at a wooden dock and bobbing up and down in the grey water. Either way, if he's up there or not, I need to make a move now. He is no doubt healing himself, and if he's getting better, and he ate a werewolf as he said, he'll be ready to come back soon. Reaching down, I snake my hands through a chain-link on each weight. My ankles look really abused. They have this awful purple look around them. And the whole of my right foot is numb. My left foot is somewhat throbbing in pain. What makes me scared is the tips of my toes are all red and swollen. I hope they have enough blood going to them. Otherwise...