I really thought I could make it. It had been months since I had last spoken to Bill and I had vowed never to speak to him again. I couldn’t stand what he had done to me, the disgusting whore that he had turned me into. I had lost myself in the thrill, the passion, the filth. I knew that I couldn’t continue with Bill this way and I tried so hard to forget how he made me feel. I did everything in my power to avoid any reminders of both Bill and my shoes. I walked six blocks out of my way on my way to work every day to avoid Saks Fifth Avenue. I refused to go shopping with my girlfriends so I wouldn’t have to pass Neiman Marcus. I stopped wearing my Louboutins that Bill had bought for me. I just couldn’t look at them without feeling used and sick. But, the feeling had been building up over the last few days. A feeling of boredom, of desire. I felt like something was missing, like the spark of happiness in my life had faded and died. I wanted that passion, that fun. I wanted to wear my shoes and walk down the street showing them off. I wanted to be that shoe slut.
My phone gave off a quiet ring. The tone was unique, I had set it a few months earlier when I had gotten in touch with Bill again. But I hadn’t heard it for weeks, since I last spoke with him, after the anal…incident. Wow, thinking back on it sent shivers down my spine. I picked up my phone and the name flashing on the screen confirmed what I had feared. I was filled with a mixture of emotions. Curiosity, desire, fear and weakness. I stared down at the flashing name on my phone and after a few minutes I gave in to my weaknesses. I took a deep breath and finally opened the message.
‘Which one?’ Was the message. And below it, two pictures. The first was a shoe display that held a pair of nude patent So Kates. They were incredible. My heart skipped a beat when I saw them and I immediately imagined slipping them onto my feet and parading around the house admiring how they accentuated my legs. The next thought that entered my mind was what I would have to do for them. What depraved, sadistic sexual act did Bill have in mind as payment for this pair of beauties.
The next picture was the same pair of gorgeous So Kates, but in black. My god. Looking at those red soles, those perfect, 5 inch heels, the shine of the surface. I looked down at my bare feet and they just felt naked. My chest felt hot and tight, i felt light headed and as I racked my brain for a reply, another text appeared on my screen.
‘They are both in your size. The clock is ticking.’ Damn. I wanted them. I couldn’t stand it, I couldn’t take it! I needed them. I wouldn’t be complete without them. Something inside me just snapped and all of the work I had put in to trying to be independent, to be strong. It was all over.
‘I want them!’ I hit send. A shower of tingles washed over me. I sat on the edge of my chair, hands shaking waiting for a response, one minute, two, five minutes went by. Then, finally. Ding.
‘Which pair, baby?’
‘Both! Oh my god I want them so bad!’
‘How bad?’
‘I’ll do anything Bill. Whatever it takes! Please, I need them!’
Weak. Pathetic. Slut.
I stood at the front door for nearly ten minutes. It was so hard to come to terms with what I had become. My weakness. I looked down again at the last text message that Bill had sent me before I had come to his home.
‘It will take a lot to earn these, but you know it will be worth it.’
I felt like I was going to hyperventilate. I tried to slow my breathing and get my head straight before going in. I turned the door knob and took a step forward, the heel of my Louboutin tapping against the hardwood of Bills front entrance. I entered the dark foyer and closed the door behind me. I noticed a piece of paper propped up against a single lit candle on the desk next to the front door. I picked up the sheet of paper and read the words written on the surface against the dimly lit room.
‘Take your clothes off and crawl naked on your hands and knees to the garage.’
My heart was beating so fast I hear hear it thumping in my temples. The garage? Oh God. I flipped through my phone and stared at the pictures of the So Kates, reminding myself what I was doing this for. I took in a deep breath and set my phone on the desk. I pulled off my red sweater and dropped my black skirt to the floor. I folded them and placed the neatly on the desk next to my phone. I removed my white lace bra and white cotton panties, folding them perfectly on top of my clothes. I stood naked in the dark and after a few moments of panic, I knelt down. I did as Bill had commanded and crawling on my hands and knees towards the garage door, breathing heavily with nervous sweat dripping down my cheek. My knees were tender from crawling on the hardwood flooring but I made it to the garage. The door was cracked open and i pushed on the wooden door. There, in the dimly lit garage, was a sight that still haunts me. A display of pure power.
A large, wooden, Saint Andrew’s Cross stood tall and ominous in the center of the cement floor. The dark, almost black mahogany stain stood out behind the brassy eye bolts that held the thick, black leather straps to the wood. A single spotlight shawn down on the apparatus from the ceiling, lighting the metal and casting a frightening shadow on the hard, cold ground. On either side of the Saint Andrew’s Cross were a beautiful reminder of my sacrifice. The shoes. On the left, the nude So Kate’s sat upright on top of their box, displayed on a clear glass stand. On the right, the black version of the same, gorgeous shoes. Both were lit from above by their own spotlight and the light danced across the hard, shiny surface of the shoes, teasing me. On a small metal table set off to the side, laid a neat line-up of torturous tools. A wooden paddle stained the same dark mahogany as the cross was adorned with shiny metal studs along the grooved handle. Alongside the paddle sat a black leather strap, red suede lacing the edges. To the right of the line-up, a black cat o’nine tails.
I felt a terror welling up inside me. What the fuck had I done. What had I agreed to? All of this? He had planned this, he had spent weeks setting this up. He was prepared. I was not.
As if he had heard my mental questions, Bill stepped out of the darkness of the garage and into the spotlight. He was fully clothed and had an eerily blank look on his face. In his hand he held a red leather collar with silver studs around the edge, a thin, red leather leash clipped to the collar swung back and forth at his side. I swallowed hard and looked up at him, the cold floor sending shivers over my sweat covered flesh. Bill stepped forward and I shuddered. He made his way to me and hunched over my cowering form. I tried to stare at the floor, begging my ego to be silent. He grabbed my chin and forced my gaze to land on his face. Our eyes met in the faded light and his maniacal stare stung my eyes like dagger.
“Kendal,” she spoke softly, as if to lull me into a sweet sense of safety “do you have any idea how much those shoes over there cost?” He ask, raising the open collar and placing it gingerly around my neck. He fastened the collar to its tightest setting and slid his hand down the length of the leash.
“$675 each pair, Kendal.” He continued. I strained to look at him, the collar restricting the motion of my neck. “You have to earn them. If you want those shoes, I will strap you down to that cross and I will spank you, once for each and every dollar that they cost me.” My eyes widened and so did his smile.
My skin was hot, sweat already beading along my forehead and dripping onto cement floor. My arms were shaking and my knees were stinging from the hard floor that I was kneeling on. He couldn’t. There was no way he could expect me to take such a beating. My mind was racing and my body felt weak. There was a mad concoction of emotions mingling and battling in my brain. I could feel the wetness begin to form between my legs, a powerful lust dripping down the inside of my thighs. I craved the chaos, I needed to be his toy. A bought and paid for whore that he could use as he pleases. A nothing in a woman’s body. I ached for it. My loins burned and my heart pumped wildly in my chest at the thought. But, there were other emotions brewing. Fear, doubt, shame.
Could I handle this? Could anyone? Over thirteen hundred whips to my delicate flesh. I would be bruised, battered, black and blue. Marked, scarred for life. And not just physically. What would this do to me? I thought and thought, would I ever be the same? What kind of woman would allow herself to become this pathetic little maggot crawling around on the floor for a man, a collar strapped tight around her neck like some kind of pet. What kind of human being would let herself become such a shameful, worthless piece of garbage, useless as anything other than a play thing for a stronger, more powerful man.
Me. I would. I needed it. I looked past Bill at the shoes displayed so royally. I looked into Bills eyes, my lips trembling and I gave him the answer that he had been waiting for.
“Yes, Sir.” I stuttered. Bill smirked at me and stood up. He yanked on my leash and i crawled after him as he led me across the garage. He brought me to the cross, it hovered over me and I craned my neck to stare up at it. Bill pulled at my leash and commanded me to stand. I did as he ordered, my slippery pussy lips sliding together as I moved. The second I stood up Bill grabbed onto my right wrist. He pressed my arm against the cold wood and strapped my wrist into the leather cuff. He strapped me in tight and then moved to the other side. He did the same to my left wrist and then he strapped my ankles into their place as well. When I was completely immobile he stood back and admired the view. His bonded little toy, helpless and ready to be used.
I felt a chill run over my skin as the cold air of the garage swept across my damp body. I waited for the first touch of the leather, the first slap of wood against me. My muscles were tense and every sound from behind me made me flinch. It couldn’t be that bad, he would be gentle with me, wouldn’t he? He knew how delicate and weak I was, he knew I couldn’t resist those shoes and that there wa no way that I could take what he had threatened. He would be careful, he would be…
Smack
Jesus! A loud, hard slap across my ass. So sudden and painful that I couldn’t even tell what he had used. I let out a surprised squeal and when I caught my breath from the initial shock, I looked over my shoulder at him. A wicked grin stretched across his shadowy face. He chuckled at my pained expression and he stepped forward, his lips caressing my ear.
“One.” He whispered, dragging the wooden paddle up my thigh. So that was what he had used. The cold wood teased my leg and in one quick, smooth motion Bill stepped back, raised the paddle and swung.
Smack. Two.
“Fuck!” I screamed. “Bill, Bill I- I don’t know if I can do this…” my pleading went unnoticed.
Smack – Smack – Smack. Dear God! What had I done. What had I gotten myself into, the pain was so intense and the laughter that echoed from behind me haunted my ears.
Smack – Smack.
From cheek to cheek he paddled my ass over and over as I screamed, yelped and whined. A few moments passed, though it felt like an eternity. 11, 12, 13. I pulled at my restraints and begged Bill for mercy.
“Please! Bill! I can’t!” I regretted allowing myself to be restrained like this, I regretted it all but as I looked back at him, the leather strap now in his hand, I caught a glimpse of the black So Kate’s. Classic, chick, sophisticated. I didn’t have to be a classy, strong women, they did it for me. A stinging pain on my thigh, the crack of the leather on my flesh pierced my ears.
Smack – Smack – Smack.
24, 25, 26. The pain was horrendous. On top of the burning sensation over my thighs and ass, I felt the warm wetness running down my legs. It was intense, like an electric shock stimulating the most primal parts of my mind. What the fuck was wrong with me! I was trash. Garbage. Unworthy of life on this planet. What kind of woman would allow herself to become this. I was a pliable tool for this man. Abused and used up as he pleased only for some hard plastic with a heel. What the fuck had I become! The leather strap met my calves, back and arms.
Smack – Smack – Smack – Smack.
I had lost count. Tears streamed down my face, my red swollen skin pulsed from the welts. I shrieked and pleaded for it to stop. Begging him to make it end and put me out of my misery. All the while my clit twitched and pussy flowed with juices. It was a nearly orgasmic feeling and with every tingle came intense shame. I was revolted with myself. Only a truly disgusting, special kind of whore would do such degrading things and all the while, enjoy it.
When I couldn’t take another smack of the cat o’ nine tails, Bill stopped. I loosened my restraints and I collapsed into his arms. He dragged me, sweat and tears covering my body, to the display with the nude So Kate’s. He handed them to me and told me to put them on. I did ask he commanded, every movement stinging my bleeding, swollen body. When they we on, he forced me back onto the rack, this time my welts were pressed against the cold wood. I was strapped into the restraints and i hung nearly lifelessly from the leather cuffs. A limp toy for Bill to pervert. To turn into his personal fuck toy.
Smack – Smack – Smack.
My thighs, my arms, my stomach. Bruised, red. Broken. I let out silent whimpers with every impact of the whip. I didn’t scream, I couldn’t. Only human beings screamed. I was an object. A tool. A whimpering, obedient pet at best. The strikes turned to my breasts and my tender, gushing pussy. The leather strap connected with my nipples, searing pain and a disgraceful whine sounded with the loud crack of the leather hitting my flesh.
It seemed like hours had passed. I was utterly broken. My head hung and my body slumped forward, only held up by my restraints. I stared down at the nude So Kate’s that I heard earned through my suffering. I would wear these tomorrow at work. Covered head to two to cover my scars, but they would see it in my eyes. They would see the revolting slut that I was, the worthless object I had become. And they would see my shoes. My beautiful shoes. What would everyone think of me after this. After they catch a glimpse of my welts, of my swollen neck. How would I explain to people that I was a filthy sex toy that prostitutes herself for expensive shoes?
Bill looked into my eyes and smiled.
“You want those black shoes, Kendal?” He asked with an evil grin. I could barely lift my head, but I nodded. His smile widened. “Then beg for it you slut.”
“P-please…” I stuttered. He was not satisfied. He whipped my pussy hard and I squealed. “Please! Fuck, please let me have them! I need them!” I begged. He whipped me harder.
“You have to do better than that you whore!” He hollered.
Something inside my head just snapped. That was it for me. That was the moment I truly broke for him.
“Bill! I need them! I am the most disgusting fucking whore! I am your dirty cum slut and I will sell my body for those shoes! Every hole, every inch of my body belongs to you! I need them! Im nothing without them! Fuck every hole that I have and use me like the toy that I am! Just please! Please give me the only thing that will make me complete!” My eyes twitched and my voice was hoarse. Bill looked down at me, surprised but satisfied. He whipped my swollen pusys one last time, hard. I didn’t flinch.
Bill grabbed my face as I slumped forward against my restraints.
“Don’t you dare ignore me again. You belong to me. I expect you to request another pair in two weeks. Now take your payment and get the fuck out, shoe slut.”
He released me from my bonds and I collapsed on the cold concrete.
It was all worth it. I had earned not only my shoes, but my place as his whore. Right where I belonged.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/85yuz1/shoe_slut_chapter_4_bdsm