Foot Slave Stories Novels & Stories

My fingers wouldn't work. I was kneeling on the cold tiles of the foyer, trying to force my left heel into a black leather flat, but my hands were shaking so hard the shoe kept slipping sideways. The leather felt stiff. The strap was caught under my sole. "Ellie, stop." Damien’s voice came from above me, but I didn't look up. I grabbed the back of the shoe, my fingernail scraping against the stitching. "I need to get my boots from the room. The flats are too small. My feet are cold. If I can just—"

That caused me to let go of my sandals and they fell on Bryce's feet causing him to groan. "Oh my! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!” I immediately led him until we got to his living room and then I made him sit on the sofa. I knelt in front of him to see if his foot was injured because the very heel of my sandals fell on his foot. "It's f-fine. J-Just gets u-up.” I didn't listen to him and still tried to kick his foot but I had a hard time because the only light that came from the moon outside was my light. "Get up, Gia. I can already see your cleavage. Damn.”

:Where Darkness Tried to Claim Her ......... After countless dance songs and too many cocktails, I finally decided to take a break. I walked toward the chairs and sat down, slipping off my heels because my feet were killing me. That’s when I noticed the blood. “Damn it…” The shoes had hurt me badly, but while I was dancing I hadn’t felt anything — probably because of the alcohol buzzing in my system. Now, though, I had no idea what to do with my foot. I took off the other shoe too and just sat there barefoot. There was nothing else I could do.

Or maybe just make a story up, she loves it when I do that, she said I’m really good at making stories and backgrounds, even the ones stolen from stories or movies, I’m a big police/mafia action movie fan. The ride to the restaurant was long and slow the bus isn’t the fastest, I had to walk the rest of the way too, good thing I went with my sandals instead of heels, I own one pair of heels for special occasions only very special occasions, I wanted to be like the cool kids and wear heels all the time, but it was really hard to walk in them, after almost breaking my ankle I gave up on my dream and put them in the back of my closet, I didn’t have the heart to throw them away.

"This is the second time this week." "I'm hoping with three I'll catch a rich one and sue his balls off." It still burned, but at least I could see it again. I leaned into Bruno, one of my heels had snapped off in my fall. Which sucked because I wasn't made out of money and quality stripper heels were expensive. "Any of 'em look like a doctor?" "Naw, you don't want them, Ronnie. They're the new poor. All those years in medical school got them living in worst shit than us."

She'd done what she had a great time to humiliate me. I stood up from my seat, dragging my legs to the restroom. It hurt. My legs.... It hurt so badly. I knew they couldn't cope with heels, yet I was trying to fit everyone's standard. The spiral staircase seemed like miles away. Each step felt like a tiny betrayal. My toes curled against the cold marble as I climbed, trying my best to keep up the pace without stumbling. Down the hallway was worse... The pain got unbearable. I quickly removed the heels, holding them in my hands. Barefoot on cold marble was better than torturing myself further.

*Me walking out of an elevator on heels,I was in such an hurry to get some files to mom in her office, I didn’t look where I was going and I didn’t realize that the janitor was still cleaning, she had a bucket at the entrance of the Elevator and the floor was still quite wet from her cleaning, in haste to get to mom I kicked the bucket the janitor careless left lying in front of the elevator , being on heels made it worse, not only did I trip, the dirty water also poured all over my clothes and I slipped messing up the whole floor and ofcourse I went home with a broken ankle I could barely walk without crutches for days* I exhaled deeply as I remembered the particular incident my heart breat

“Jungle foot.” “Huh?” I look at him quizzically. “Jungle foot, or foot rot. It’s from wearing your boots too long and sweating. Our soldiers in Cambiador get this when we go on ruck marches, and they can’t shift.” “Doesn’t their counterpart heal them?”

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.

He then turned to look at Levy and questioned, “Does your feet hurt a lot?” “It’s nothing,” Levy sighed with a shake of her head. “I am not used to such pointed heels and long hours that's all. In the prison we used to stay barefoot, sometimes the simplest shoes were given to us because our patrons did not want us to burn or stab our feet on something and make them lose their money. However, I have never worn heels…and that too for a day.”