textfiles/sex/EROTICA/C/cruel.txt

Sometimes Rebecca just wore the boots to attract attention.  She loved the
way some men stared but tried to hide it, no matter how obvious it was.

She sat at the bar slowly eating pretzels, one leg crossed over the other so
her boot hung lazily to one side.  These were the black, shiny ones.  Black
patent leather, nearly to the thigh, with laces all the way up the front. 
Lacing them up was laborious, but it was worth the effort.  She loved the
way they clung to her shins tightly, she loved the way they looked.

Obviously the man at her side liked the way they looked, too.  She noticed
his eyes wandering once more to them, then back to his drink.  He cleared
his throat.

She ignored him and ran one gloved hand up the slick, black shiny material,
fingering the laces, then down over the long five inch heel.  She rubbed her
ankle for a bit then stretched.

He glanced over again and she turned to him, catching him.

He smiled nervously.  "I like the boots."

She laughed and slapped a hand on the material again.  "Yes they're nice. 
But a bear to lace up.  Do you have any idea how long it takes to lace these
things?" she asked, thrusting her long leg out toward him, her spike heel
precariously aimed at his crotch.

He shifted and looked at them.  "I..I have no idea."

She leaned over, sliding a pretzel into her mouth.  "I call them 'the cruel
shoes'".  

The man again shifted a bit, running his hand through his hair, lifting his
eyes to her.  "I guess that means they take a long time to lace up?"

Chuckling, she paused.  "That's not why I call them that."

*****

His name was Brad, and he was an easy catch.  She grabbed her purse as he
paid the tab and followed her out the door, and she knew he was watching her
ass, how the boots made her walk that certain way. How one leg slid in front
of the other and she moved with such grace on 5 inch stilts. 

A taxi was waiting so she slid inside, crossing her legs and pointing the
shiny tip of her spike at him as he slid in next to her.

"Let's see how long they take *you* to lace," she grinned at him.

Brad laughed and put his hands in his laps, looking at her boots as she took
out a compact and started to re-apply lipstick.

"I'll be straight with you, Brad," she said without looking at him,
puckering her lips.

"These boots make my feet sore.  And as much as I love to wear them, and
appreciate a man that loves to look at them, " she paused as she shut the
compact and looked at him, "I have no qualms making a man pay for the
priveledge of looking upon them."

Brad swallowed and his eyes shifted, he appeared like he didn't know where
to look.

Rebecca turned and faced forward, pursing her lips.  "And as I figure it,
you were staring at my boots for...oh...say," she paused and looked at her
watch, "About 20 minutes."

Brad nodded and looked at her eyes, her lips.  "I did...I know. I couldn't
help it..I mean, " he waved his hands at them, at the way they held tight to
her strong legs, at how the arch curved as she lifted her spike toward him.

Rebecca interrupted him, "Ever had one of these spikes half way down your
throat, Brad?"

He hestiated, startled.  "No...no I -"

"It's like sucking cock, " she commented casually, leaning into her purse
again.  "You never know how deep you can take it until you're choking on it
for real."

Brad swallowed and looked down as she leaned to the driver.

"This is my place," she handed him a wad of bills.  "Let us off here."

*****


"You've obviously never sucked cock before, Brad."

He was kneeling there, strained, trying to hold desperately still as she
rammed the long, thin heel into his mouth.  It moved slick, it moved with
ease, but Brad still pulled back instinctively as she forced it in.

She leaned forward to hold his head still and he cringed, tensed.

"You aren't trying very hard," she scolded.

He choked and pulled back, taking a breath.  "I..Look, I can't do this, I
didn't think coming up here meant --"

She grabbed him hard by the head and shoved his nose to the toe of her boot.
"You thought you were going to get fucked? Is that what you thought, Brad?"

He tensed and resisted but she pushed harder and ordered with a scowl, "Lick
it, Brad.  Make it clean. I want you to see your reflection in it."

Her legs opened reflexively and his eyes caught her panties, her wetness. 
Perhaps it was the eagerness to please that made him overcome the momentary
revulsion.  His tongue slid forward and he licked, in long, adoring strokes.

She moaned and leaned back, opening her legs more, letting one hand drift
toward her crotch.  "Yes, that's it..."

His eyes shifted then closed, and he continued moving his tongue up the
long, black material, around the hoops that held the laces, up over the side
of her leg, higher,  higher....

She stopped him with a hand to his forehead as he reached the base of her
thigh and was close to her skin.  "You like a challenge, Brad?"

His eyes moved to hers and he hesitated, "Yes...yes, usually..."

Rebecca stood and stretched, walking to her closet in her short skirt and
boots.  "You like shoes? I like shoes.  I love shoes, Brad."

With careful little movements Brad turned toward her as she slowly opened
her closet door.  What he saw was shoes...shoes everywhere, more shoes than
he had ever seen in his life.  Boots and boots and more boots - in black and
white and beige, leather and latex and wool.  Some with heels, some without. 
Some high, some low.  And stilleto heels, some 7 inches, some less.  He
gasped and said, "Jesus Christ, that's a lot of shoes."

Rebecca pulled a pair of hot red pumps from the shelf with a sigh, pointing
the red heel toward her lips as she puckered at them.  "Sometimes I sit here
and just try on shoes.  Half of these I have never worn."  She paused,
placing a loving kiss on the spike.

"What a waste," he commented, eying the row of sandles.

Her head snapped toward him and she shot him a cold glare.  "A waste?" she
stormed over and he tensed as she shoved the red heels in his face.

"You dare tell me what a waste is, as you spend your precious money on
fucking BMWs and golf clubs?" she scowled, shoving the red spiked heels into
his mouth.

He winced and shifted, trying to apologize but having a mouth full of heel.

"These shoes," she growled at him as her movements became a slow, mouth
fucking motion, "Have given me more pleasure than you could *ever* get from
any of your possessions."

He nodded and looked at her with big, apologetic eyes.  In reality, he
feared the integrity of his mouth, as the heels were sharp and scraping
ruthlessly at his tender tongue.

With a growl she yanked the shoe free and turned away.  "But enough of that,
on to my challenge," she sighed.

Brad looked down, nervous.  He was aroused, there was no doubt, just
watching her legs, those boots, and her ass did it to him.  But the more he
learned of her and her shoes, the more he was scared.  She might be a great
fuck, definitely, but was it work having to tongue all these shoes?

His concentration was rocked as Rebecca went into a frenzy in her closet,
throwing all the boots and shoes into a big pile on the floor.  He remained
there kneeling in awe as he watched her pile them all together, hudnreds of
shoes, spikes sticking everywhere.

With a big grin of accomplishment she stood, her hands on her hips, over her
kingdom of shoes.  "It's really pretty easy," she explained, leaning down
and picking up a random shoe.  She held it up.  "I find a shoe, " she
instructed, waving it at him.  "And you find it's partner."

Brad looked at the shoe then at the pile.  It was a white sandal with straps
and a heel.  How bad could it be?  The color narrowed it down quickly, and
there were not many sandals.  "I can do that."

Rebecca dropped the sandal in the pile and walked to him, her hands behind
her back.  "Well I want to make it a little more difficult for you, baby. I
want to make it so that you have to WORK..."

He lifted his eyes to her slowly, not liking her grin.  "What do you mean?"

From behind her back she produced a leather blindfold.  She waved it him and
grinned.

He scoffed.  "If I can't see, how can I tell?!"

She leaned over and he resisted the urge to look down her top.  God knows
what looking there would cost him.

She grinned.  "You can be innovative."

"I can use my hands, right?"

She laughed, "Of course not!"

Brad shook his head at her in disbelief.  "There are a hundred shoes over
there! I can't -- I can't lick them all to find the one that matches!"

She ooooh'd at him and it aroused him the way she seemed to be suddenly
turned on, watching his lips.  "But Brad, it makes me hot to watch you use
your mouth, your tongue.  On my pretty shoes.  I'd imagine that tongue
inside me, exploring me the way you are exploring my property."

A slow grin crossed his face. He eyed her legs.  "Then come on, let me use
that tongue, " he smiled, thinking of how she must taste.

She reached forward with the blindfold. "Sure, *after* you prove your
ability."

With a groan he held still as she slid the cover over his eyes, and he
muttered.  He was getting impatient, his cock was throbbing, and he was
pissed.

"Just so you know," she said as she walked over to her shoe pile.  "I'll be
masturbating while I watch."

"Did you HAVE to tell me that??" he sighed.

She returned and pulled his hands behind his back, cuffing them.

He winced and grumbled, shifting in his bonds.  Suddenly there was the
distinct smell of leather under his nose.  "Take it," she ordered.

A shoe was shoved into his mouth and he heard her chuckle and sit down,
heard the chair creak, then heard her skirt unzipping.

Brad sighed, aroused, aching.  He dropped the shoe to the floor and leaned
down to feel it with his cheek first, to figure out what kind it was. He
felt for buckles first, for straps.  He used his tongue to pick up the finer
detail, and he heard her moan loudly as she watched.

The creaking of the chair, her hot breaths, her urging him on all served to
distract him.  She told him quite firmly, "If I cum before you succeed, you
lose."

With a mouthful of shoe he gritted, "If I win?"

She moaned in response.  "Then that tongue finds its way into my wet pussy,
isnt that what you want?"

Brad nodded eagerly, dropped the shoe, and crawled over to the waiting pile. 
He had a mental picture in his head of the shoe, a small leather boot that
was about ankle high, with a 2 or 3 inch heel and a zipper on one side,
buckle on the other.  

The smell of leather overcame him as he slid his nose into the pile, quickly
grabbing shoes with his teeth and tossing them to the side when he
eliminated them from the running.  He got rid of all pumps first, all big
thigh high boots and sandals.  He was starting to sweat, breathe hard, and
ache all over.

Rebecca's moans became more loud and demanding as she watched him, she told
him how wet he was making, how hot his tongue was.  

He moved furiously, sensing her close to orgasm.  But the last several
prospects he found all felt the same to him, and he had to take slow,
careful effort in sliding his tongue over the detail, counting buckles,
looking for zippers.

"That tongue, " she gasped, "Oh yes...Oh Brad, I'm cumming,"

He gasped too, lifting his head, "No, wait!"

But it was too late.  She gasped again, moaned, and he heard the chair shake
wildly in her bucks of orgasm.  She cried out again and again, moaning his
name.

He kneeled there, pouting, defeated.  He shifted in the handcuffs and threw
his head around but the blindfold would not come lose.

There was a long silence and he called her name.

Still, silence.

"Rebecca?" he turned his head, listening for sound.

Finally her breath was at his ear. "You lost, Brad."

"Yeah, I know," he muttered.  "Now take off the blindfold, I want to see
which it was."

Suddenly her hand was in his hair, hard. He gasped in pain as she pulled him
to his feet.

"You lost, Brad.  It's my turn.  You have to pay up."

"Ahhh -- " he winced as she dragged him toward another room.  He stumbled in
pain and fought but she slapped him, hard, across the face.

This scared him, and he shut his mouth, following her, figuring another shoe
torment was probably all he would have to endure before she either let him
at her or let him go.

*****

It was what seemed like a basement and he found himself stripped naked and
tied down, spread eagled, his wrists in tight metal bands and his ankles in
leather straps.

He was breathing hard, turned on by how her body rubbed against him when she
locked him down that way.  It didn't hurt that she was talking dirty to him
as she did.

Finally she slipped the blindfold off his eyes and smiled at him.  The room
was semi dark but he could see her there, back in the leather skirt and high
black patent leather boots with the huge spiked heels.

She slid into a chair that was right above him and crossed her legs so her
heel hung down close to his throbbing cock.  She was smiling all too
cruelly.

Brad struggled and looked at her.  He looked pissed but his cock stood at
attention as she peered at him, occassionally moving her toe over to tap at
it.

"What's the matter, cat got your tongue?" she smiled.

Brad bit his lip.  "What now?  Is this my punishment?"

She stretched, her breasts pressed forward in her tight corset, grinning at
him.  She waved the boots at him.  "Did I ever tell you why these are called
'the cruel shoes'?"

Brad tensed for a second, looking at them.  "Yeah, the laces."

Rebecca laughed. "No.  That's not it at all."  Slowly, carefully, she
lowered her heel down toward his cock and balls, pressing into them.

He gasped in pain and shifted, snapping, "AH!"

"oooh" she purred as her heel dug into his scrotum, "Does that *hurt*?"

"FUCK YES!" he cried out, his eyes shut tight in pain. 

"I could press harder...." she grinned, looking at the tip of the spike as
it dug into his delicate skin.  She lifted the other boot and tapped at the
tip of his cock, then locked it between the cool, slick material. 
She effectively had them in a vice.

Brad stared at her, pleadingly.  He looked at his cock, then at her, then
said softly, "Don't, please...stop?"

Rebecca smiled cruelly and tightened her feet together and rubbed them
against his cock, asking, "Didn't you want your cock rubbed, Brad? You've
been thinking about it all night!"

He writhed in pain but his cock remained hard. He pulled at the bonds and
was unable to gain any sort of freedom.

"Admit it," she leaned over, swiping a bit of the precum from his cock and
lifting it to his lips.  "You love this, you are ready to cum right now."

He thrashed his head away when the precum met his lips, gasping in pain.

Finally, she let go, and he gasped in relief.

With a soft smile she watched him pant, sweat, his eyes shut tightly in
delirious pain and exhaustion.  His cock throbbed with his ragged breath,
the precum glistened.  For a moment she took bits of it and sucked it off
her fingers, then rubbed it on her spiked heel and firmled planted it into
his torso.

Brad arched his back in pain and his eyes shot open.  He found himself
staring up between her legs, under her skirt, and at her shaved and
glistening pussy.  "Oh...god..." he winced.

"You mean, 'goddess'" she grinned, pressing the heel deep into his flesh
painfully.


He again arched his back in pain, gasping, "Goddess, yes Goddess!".  When
she stepped on him with the other heel he opened his eyes again, watching
her as she fingered herself, gazing down at him with an evil smile of
adoration.  

Distracted by her fingers, lost in the pain, his cock throbbing, Brad felt
close to delirium.  When she stepped off of him the blood rushed back into
the welts painfully, making him shift even more.

Rebecca stood and moved out of vision for a moment, returning with a leather
briefcase.  She set it down next to him and he looked at it, then at her,
still breathless.

"What...what're you doing?" he asked shakily.

She sat down in front of him and moved a lever, lowering chains above his
helpless frame.  He looked at them, then at her.  He was terrified but he
kept a straight face.  Deep down he hoped, he prayed, that finally maybe she
would fuck him for this.

The chains were hanging above his legs as she unlocked his ankles and lifted
them, one at a time, locking them into the hanging shackles so they were
raised high in the hair.  This made him uneasy, his ass exposed, both legs
now straight in the air above him.  He had never felt more vulnerable.

Rebecca was humming as she leaned down to the black briefcase and opened it. 
He turned his head and saw devices, a half dozen of them, strapped into a
case.  They looked like attachments for a massage device, but some of them
were sharp, some were ragged.  He was clueless.

She crossed one leg over the other and he watched her move gracefully,
pleasantly, taking the spiked heel of one of her boots and turning it. 
Slowly, carefully, she unscrewed it.  It came loose and he watched with
disbelief as she set the five inch heel into the case and searched for a
replacement.

Never before had he seen such a thing.  The heels on her boots were
removable. And what sat in the case were various devices of torture. All
with the purpose of being screwed into place, into the slel of her boot.

Rebecca looked more stunning than ever with her long dark hair hanging in
her face, her breasts hugging the corset as she slid her gloved finger over
the devices that sat waiting in the case.  

Brad breathed hard as he watched, watched her pass over the vice, the ice
pick, the attachment that looked to be electrical.  She stopped and tapped
on the slick black latex dildo.  "Yes," she smiled, "This will be perfect.

He eyed it then looked at her. "No, wait..."

She pulled it out and showed it to him.  It was 8 inches long at least,
thick in circumference, all black patent leather. She screwed it slowly into
her boot heel as she watched him.

Brad struggled, he fought, he swore at her.  She just laughed.  Finally,
when the dildo was screwed tight in place, she sat back in her chair and
shoved it into his mouth, forcing his head back.

His protests were muffled as she sat back, arms crossed over her chest,
commenting at what a great cocksuker he was.  When he tried to turn away she
just followed him with her foot, ramming it deeper.

He finally ceased his struggling and looked at her, eyes desperate, as she
lifted a small jar of lubricant.

"And now," She smiled softly at her effectively gagged victim, "The part of
the night you have been waiting for.  Your fucking."

Brad winced and twisted but she held the dildo-heel secure in his mouth as
she carefully took the lubricant onto her fingertips and leaned over to
smear it slowly over his asshole.

His writhing became more desperate but she just snickered, fingering his ass
slowly, deeply, ignoring his muffled protests.

When she withdrew the dildo-heel from his mouth he gasped loudly and begged,
pleaded.  But she didn't listen.

Rebecca sat back in her chair, holding the seat of it for leverage, and
watched with desire as she slide the dildo heel slowly, carefully into his
lubricated ass.  He shifted but she moved persistently, slowly, opening him
wider and wider.

"I'm sorry you lost the challenge earlier," she said as she forced the dildo
deeper, watching his cock bob, the precum drip down the base, noticing his
expression turn from pain to lust.  "But there is something you should know
about women and shoes."

He didn't respond, his body moving with fucking motion as she slid the dildo
in and out of his opening with more ease.

"We tend to lose one of a pair quite a bit," she smiled, watching his
expression turn to desperation, his arousal on edge. "I haven't seen the
other boot to the one you had for years now."

His eyes shot open and she laughed, a subtle twist of her ankle resulting in
a vibration that ran hard through his body, making him writhe and nearly
cum.

She leaned over and took his cock into her hand, one soft stroke resulting
in him bucking with orgasm.  "There was *no* other shoe, Brad."

He gasped as his cum shot up his chest, in his face, on his neck.  

Rebecca smiled and sat back, folding her arms and licking his cum from her
fingers as she watched him.  "One of these days, maybe I will find that
other shoe."