The Boots by Byron

The constricting leather hood was peeled roughly from my head, and sensations swamped me.

For an unknown amount of time I had been tied down naked on a barely padded table, blind and gagged as the warm, sharp fingers of the woman had tickled, poked, slapped and punched at me from the darkness.

Now I kneeled, shivering. Facing the wall as instructed, flinching at the slightest sound. She was busily preparing something behind me, but I couldn't care - I was too glad that she couldn't be torturing me in the meantime.

After 30 seconds of silence, which seemed to last forever and gain the pregnant inertia of a circus train full of elephants fucking, the words came:

'Turn, boy'

I did so, eyes cast down and adjusting quickly to the light sources, two flickering candles, matching the height of the stately throne in which she now sat, legs crossed and arms reclining serenely, a resting lioness.

A finger curled, beckoning, and I shuffled to the step, feeling her power focus on me crushingly, as I sank once more to my knees.

Her legs were presented in thigh-high encasements of darkly purple leather, with sensibly chunky zips snaking up, up to the creamy revealed flesh. Her skirt had been raised, simple plain black panties on display, the better to show off her new weapons. Light glinted dully off the soaring heels, describing an arc of devoted submission.

My mouth flooded with drool.

She extended one leg, slowly and powerfully pressing the heavy flat sole onto my chest. I leaned into it, pushing my ribcage against her foot, until she suddenly drew back and I started to fall forward.

With a snarl, and perfect timing, she kicked out, hitting me with the toe of the boot and sending me sprawling painfully as I arched backwards.

"Don't rest against me, boy!"

I returned to a kneeling position in front of her, and the boot once again pressed against my chest.

"Better, now, hold my foot"

The heavy boot dropped suddenly, heel scraping agonisingly against my inner thigh.

"Silly boy, you really need to be faster"

"Yes Mistress"

I lifted her right foot in my hands, cradling the leather and feeling the warm skin and bones of her foot beneath, The leather, new, gave off an intoxicating smell of hot desire.

I ran my fingers up the insole, pushing and feeling her foot respond beneath.

Without being asked, but overcome, I lowered my head, and brushed my cheek against the warm second skin. She responded positively, and I let my tongue dart out, tracing a thin line along the finely stitched seam.

"Kiss them boy"

I looked up, and her gaze had me frozen, locked as surely as any shackle, tighter than any knot.

Pressing my lips together, I raised the very tip of the boot to my face, and continued to look at her as I kissed at it delicately. She sat a little differently in the chair, and I could tell this was now a two way street, that she was taking pleasure in my attentions, and I beamed with pride.

Her other foot had snaked down to my crotch, and was grinding blindly as my engorged penis responded to the sensations.

Seeing my erection, she cooed

"Now I see what you like, you filthy brat... look at you getting hard for my shiny new boots!"

I mumbled in agreement, licking at the smooth, hard curving surface of the instep, pushing my face against the beautiful implements of torture and delight.

The boots, she'd said, were new, freshly arrived from England and bought for her by a distant admirer. I was the first to experience them, as luck would have it, and I was determined to show her how understanding I was of my good fortune.

I thought briefly of the distant sub who had bought the boots, and knew he'd want me to give my all.

From the hard, almost architectural instep, I had arrived at the top of the front of the heel. I lifted my head, still cradling the foot, to study the design.

The leather extended down the back and sides of the heel, tapering to a not-too fine base upon which was a tiny metal plate. It sat flush with the rest of the heel and was secured with a single, bronze nail. Inscriptions of the exclusive London leatherworks from which the boots had come were visible.

She saw my studious appraisal and smiled warmly, shifting her foot so the heel was now level with my mouth.

"Take it, bitch"

My mouth was already open, and I guided the metal tip carefully around my teeth before closing my lips, looking up at her. I tried hard to look like a porn star sucking a cock and she loved it, squirming slightly upon her black throne.

"Oh, yes... good boy, suck it"

Carefully I let her pull the heel out of my mouth then place it back in...

"Watch those teeth, don't scratch the leather!"

I'd already been very careful of that, but was now moreso, as my head bobbed enthusiastically for her.

She pleasured herself like that for a few minutes before slowly withdrawing her legs and standing up, offering her legs for a hug from my kneeling nakedness. I obliged happily.

Time was frozen, stretched, and in the darkness of her dungeon, I sensed I could be trapped forever.



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