Foot Slave Stories Novels & Stories

Since the chair he's in is the only one in the foyer, I take a seat on the floor to put on my socks and shoes. Cass hears me and watches me as I sit and I know the moment he sees my feet because he asks in shock, "What's wrong with your feet?" He's moved to kneel in front of me and looks like he's going to reach out for my foot when I stop him, saying, "Please don't touch my foot, it would be weird. It's just some blisters from my shoes, nothing out of the normal." "You should have told me your feet were hurting. We didn't need to dance so much. I think we got the point across that I wasn't dancing with other partners early enough," he says, completely oblivious to what heels are like.

DAMN, her feet hurt. GERRI knew better than to hike the three-level mall in four-inch heels. But birthday presents must be bought, torture shoes or not. She’d just wear flip-flops the rest of the week—as long as she wasn’t meeting clients, anyway.

Running in the snow barefoot had left the soles of our feet raw. “Lucky for you girls, I am not just a shoe salesmen, I am also the town’s podiatrist.” The shopkeeper said as he came out of the back room with a bag of supplies. “Around these parts, its not uncommon for people to get frostbite or other injuries in the winter. Now lets have a look.” He spent several minutes working on each of our feet, cleaning, then massaging ointment into them and finally wrapping them in a thin wrap.

I point to the heels I had abandoned in the doorway. “Because those shoes are evil and I am pretty sure they were biting my feet off or something. Sadly, they are part of my uniform at work.” I explain. He raises an eyebrow. “Biting your feet off? Surely they can't be THAT bad...” he trails off. I lift my foot up and pull off my bunny slipper to reveal the blisters and red marks that marr the pale skin of my foot. “They are definitely that bad.” I state as I hold my foot up so he can see. It is almost comical how horrified Bellamy looks. He actually leans forward and grabs my foot, pulling it towards himself.

Steele shoes sales were dropping, and fast! Mrs Steele was bat-shit crazy; after their emergency meeting the week before, she concluded to suppress the Soul-Shoes, a decision that wasn’t one of her best. They’d gone ahead to create a scandal, calling the quality of their Soul-Shoes poor and outrightly dangerous.

I managed to snap one heel off my shoe with two powerful blows against the steps and promptly repeated the process with the other. My hands were trembling so terribly that I nearly missed my foot as I put my shoes back on. I drew myself up as soon as they came on. I looked up and gasped. As it turned out, I wasn't the only one who had fallen down the steps. Josefa's friend was creeping down the stairs behind me. No.

My heels clatter on the sidewalk, my feet already hurting, but I left my sneakers at work on Friday and didn't have another pair other than a big bulking pair of rain boots that would look even more out of place walking the four blocks than three-inch Payless knock-off Manolos. A grate takes up half the sidewalk in front of me, one I walk over every day and never have a problem, but at the exact moment I'm about to pass over it, a business man in a three-piece suit on a motorized scooter forces me to the corner as he takes up the entire middle portion. "Hey!" I shout after him, but it does no good. My heel falls into the hole, and without thinking, I jerk trying to get free but stop with the

I should have worn sandals; Matteo had warned me and asked me to be in one or take it along with me. But I had stubbornly declined and had worn an ankle boot. Even though the sole wasn't very high, it was still high for a long walk. "Fuck it," I muttered, unzipping the ankle boots and slipping out of them. I flexed my legs, letting out a sigh at the relieved feeling that washed over me. Preparing to walk, Matteo halted me. He frowned, staring from my legs to my face. "Are you aware that it's dangerous to walk around barefooted? There are so many spikes around here as well as traps, I don't want the mother of my child to move around limping or worse have her legs cut off."

he mused as he raised her feet higher to get a close look at it "Where are your shoes?" Yeah right, her shoes. "I lost it two weeks ago at the dragon's castle," she casually said, then went ahead to narrate "When you told me to run, I ran out of the place. Not knowing where to run to, I just ran forward and then got jumped by a zombie. I kicked hard at it and it clung to my right heel, so I removed the other one to bash at it. Before I knew it, the zombie grunted loudly and a horde of them started running toward me from a distance. So I just managed to slip my foot from the shoe he held and ran like my life depended on it."

And there they were—Nathan and Rainee, strolling in. Nathan cranked up the drama, practically shouting. "I've already said I don't know you! How long are you gonna keep pretending you're my wife? "I kicked you out this morning, and now you're stalking me at the hospital? Don't you have any shame?" A few patients nearby started whispering. "Wait, isn't that Dr. Carter? She's the mistress?" "She looks so put-together—who'd have thought?" Even though it was me they were trash-talking, Rainee played the part of the helpless victim, head down, clutching Nathan's arm like a lifeline. Her voice wavered as she mumbled, "Nathan, my stomach hurts. Can we just see the doctor?"