Slave Footstool Novels & Stories

The aroma of new leather permeated the atmosphere as he strolled by lines of heels and boots, looking for something that felt suitable. He recalled earlier at the café, thinking about how red and sore Kayla’s feet appeared in those old shoes she constantly wore. He felt a slight tightening in his jaw at the recollection. She merited more—something cozy and functional, yet still fashionable enough to fit her. His gaze fell upon a pair of silver ballet flats placed on a lower shelf. They were straightforward yet refined, featuring a subtle shine that reflected the light without being overly ostentatious. Excellent. He gathered them, sliding his thumb across the smooth material. They appeared c

“What do you mean, I have to wear this? I’ve worn nothing like this before. I don’t know if I can walk in these.” Tara held up a pair of high-heeled silver scrappy sandals. “It’s one thing to be a complete shoe or boot with a heel. But these are begging to break my ankle the first crack in the sidewalk I find. Or I’ll miss a stair and end up on my head at the bottom of the stairs.”

I asked fearfully. There was no response. Even so, my gaze was drawn to the two dirty glasses by the bar near the fire. I approached and picked up one of them. It was half empty, its rim stained with a woman’s red lipstick. Then I looked down at the floor. A few feet ahead of me past the rug, lay a woman’s shoe. It was a stiletto, with a very high, thin heel. Its sole was red, and the rest of the shoe was black. I followed the trail it left and found the other shoe a bit further away, near a man’s crumpled jacket on the floor.

Mich yelled. I ignored him and didn't come out till the next three minutes. He had a scowl on his face, but the moment he saw me, it dissolved into an expression I couldn't read. Then he turned to Sammy and his quiet colleague. “Give her the heels. Has it arrived?" Sammy's colleague got up and produced a pack of shoes from a high shelf. Oh my. The design was damn unique. A black six-inch heel, its strap made of two rows of three large, fancy glittering stones, flexibly connected.

I opened it and on one side of the wardrobe was a shoe rack containing several expensive-looking footwear ranging from leather shoes, sneakers, mocassins, flip flops, sandals, and loafers to boots of various types and several other types of footwear that I don't know their names. Although I also have expensive footwear, mine was not half as much as his. I saw the footwear in his wardrobe a couple of months ago and within that period, the number seems to have tripled. I was not surprised cos Luther has always had a penchant for footwear right from childhood. My eyes swept over the footwear and rested on his flip-flops. A flip-flop would be easy for me to slip into his feet and would also be e

This was a fight waiting to happen. By the time I was back in my regular clothes, and Susan had my dress, Lexi and her mom were already looking at the shoes. Lexi was holding a red pair of heels, inspecting them. I wrinkled my nose at them. Her mom also had a white pair in her hand. I shook my head, and started looking. So many heels. My feet started to hurt just looking at them. Finally I found a few pairs of flats. The two that caught my attention were a pair of pointed toe silver ones, and a pair black ones that had a round toe, and tied around my ankle. I took booth pair over to a spot on the couch to try on.

I grabbed them up, held them behind me as I walked back out into the main living space. "So why am I waiting to crush his balls?" Kiema asked, her hands fisted on her hips. I pulled my surprise from behind my back. "Ta da!" "You brought me gross boots?" She raised one eyebrow at me before turning to consult with Saint. The other man was smiling. "You'll like those boots, honey. They have steel plates covering the toes. Absolutely no harm to you, exponentially more harm to him." Kiema leapt forward. "Gimme, gimme, gimme."

She was dazed. She pulled the shoes off and saw that one of the heels was pulled away by force and slanted. It was being held in place by a little nail. Everyone saw it and Stan fixed his gaze on it. Everyone glanced at it and started murmuring. Something isn't right here. Finally Mary Patrick spoke “This shoe is made by Shivana designer and accessories, the leading designer home in England. I personally examined and chose these shoes because she would be descending the stairs in the scene and needed a shoe with a balanced heel.

The world is a shade less tilted. I swing my legs to the floor and notice the slippers he had left, I hadn't given them much attention earlier. They’re the exact kind of impractical I never let myself buy—soft as sin, a little silly, aggressively kind. I slide my feet into them and groan out loud. Okay, fine. He was right about these too.

Chelsea "Can we not skip this part?" I whimpered, trying to suppress the ticklish sensations on the heel of my feet. The young maid attending to me struggled to contain her laughter, her composed demeanor faltering slightly as she continued to use a pumice stone to scrub my foot. "This is the most important part, Miss," she responded with a hint of amusement, applying steady pressure to my soaked toe. "And, also, if we skip anything, Ms. Beth would be furious."