Lady Dimitrescu Feet Novels & Stories

I hated that he had left the smooth path, these heels hated the softer ground and I had the hardest time keeping up with him. “Slow down,” I huffed before finally resting on a large tree root that was out of the ground. “I give up on this.” Two swipes and the shoes were off I tossed them behind me not caring where they landed as long as they wer out of my sight. “Are you taking your clothes off for any particular reason?” Dimitris cocked and eyebrow. “Just the shoes.” I huffed marching to meet back up with him, “Can’t stand them.” He nodded, “Apologies, I would have had my seamstress provide you clothes today but she was busy.”

Tears rolled down her face as she started losing her footing. “Ayra!” Dimitri yelled as she held her. He looked down at her stomach and noticed blood. So much blood. Her blood pooled around her feet as they seeped through the gaps between her fingers.

Forcing him to perform according to the demands. "I'm afraid my feet will be stepped on by your sandals," Dimas said, occasionally glancing down. Having just said that he winced when one of Lily's sandals stepped on his right shoe. Luckily the tip of his heel was not pointed. The pain was still tolerable. "Sorry, sir." Lily reflexively lowered her hands. Dimas nodded briefly. "I was too confident." "So what do you say? Let's call it a day." "Yes," Dimas said quickly.

- Jump. — I myself. “It was not enough to be in the arms of others for the second time in the evening.” “You yourself will only wring your neck in your boots,” Dmitry remarked. Lily slid to the edge of the seat, lowered her leg, but the wet sole slipped off the metal footboard, and the girl collapsed into the man's hands with a limp carcass. "Put me down," she protested. - Yes please. It was a pleasure to meet you, Flower, - Dmitry said.

Footsteps. Two sets. One heavy and deliberate, one lighter, almost dancing. They’re back. Terror floods me so violently I almost vomit. I shuffle backward as far as the chains allow, which is barely an inch. My raw shoulders scrape stone. A sharp breath escapes my lips as my wrists rub against the silver. Dimitri steps into the cave first, moonlight carving his silhouette into something monstrous. Demetria follows, humming some song under her breath, the silver bowl now empty and stained with crimson in her hands.