My Wife's Killer Shoes
by Granite
Lightbulb (C) 1995. Back.
STANDARD DISCLAIMER: This material contains graphic descriptions of violent and sexual situations. It is not intended for anyone under the age of 18 or anyone who, for any reason, is not able to distinguish fantasy from reality. The characters and situations depicted here are not real, they are not based on any real characters or situations, nor should anyone try to attempt to emulate any of these characters or live out any of these situations. Although the author has intended to introduce a sense of realism to these extraordinary situations, the real life consequences could be EXTREMELY HAZARDOUS. (They may also be illegal in your country, if that provides a stronger deterrent!) One object of providing this material is to appease the reader's imagination without forcing him/her to act it out.
Please be advised that this material contains graphic descriptions of sexual situations of one or more of the following: heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, asexual; monogamous, polygamous, polyandrous; consensual, non-consensual, casual; S&M, B&D, humiliation, female domination, trampling, shoe/ fetish, torture, snuff, ball-busting, crush, bestiality, and that the players are of various ages, including children. If one or more of these situations offends you, makes you uncomfortable or is unacceptable to you, please stop reading and burn the pages!
Allow me to describe my wife, Cheryl, and the events which led up to the horror of her inevitable dominance over me. She's breathtakingly beautiful with deep blue eyes and short black hair. She has a solid build and is only two inches shorter than me, leaving her at a powerful six in height and one hundred fifty pounds.
She has a wonderful eye for fashion and those particular articles of clothing which make her look attractive. Her shoe collection is enormous and each pair complements her personality. Due to her height, most of her shoes are either flats or else they have low heels. She does possess a few pair with three to four inch heels which she mainly wears when she wants to look enticing and unreachable. I don't think there is a man alive who can resist her when she wears her long black evening gown and her black satin pumps with ankle straps. I know I barely survived my first encounter with that particular outfit.
I'm somewhat of a special case, however, in that I have fetish for women's shoes. It is a peculiar perversion to possess, and is difficult to work into a normal, vanilla sex-life. In my younger days, I tried to convince a few of my girlfriends it could be fun to have a man worshipping their shoes, but each relationship ended quickly thereafter. I finally accepted that I'd have to keep my fantasies about women's shoes to myself.
Finding Cheryl was incredibly lucky on my part. We met at a party thrown by a mutual friend and it was just a magical meeting. It seemed like everything I thought about and talked to her about also reflected her personal experiences. That night we were a perfect match. As the way things sometimes happen, after such a magical night we grew to love each other very much and ended up marrying. It was simply a fringe benefit that she happened to have such good taste in footwear.
She must own over forty pairs of shoes, most of them leather. I've had the pleasure of studying each pair intimately, when she hasn't been around. My experience with other women had warned me about showing my affection for Cheryl's shoes while she was present. I'm lucky enough to work close to home while she works in the city. Therefore, I am home alone almost every afternoon for lunch.
I began my exploration with simple visual appreciation. Slowly that extended to the other senses and I'd find myself smelling the material, rubbing the shoes on my face and even licking her shoes. I've licked her shoes all over: tasting the outer casings, the inner soles and even the bottom soles of her shoes. Finally after receiving so much sensual arousal from her shoes, I began masturbating with them.
My method of shoe masturbation is to strip naked, and then slide my penis and testicles inside the shoe. This is the reason I appreciate Cheryl's size nine ; they allow for sufficient room in her shoes. While sniffing or tasting one of her other shoes, I rub my penis inside the shoe until I ejaculate all over the inner sole.
Now, as I said, for the first year or so I was very cautious about masturbating with my wife's shoes. I was quite afraid she might come home and catch me in an uncompromising position. I always hoped that she wouldn't mind if she knew, but there can be incredible fear in the unknown. I kept picturing her storming out of the house, heading straight for our attorney, asking for a divorce and being awarded the house and belongings. Then I'd end up on Geraldo or Donahue on some show about "Men who screwed their wife's shoes, got divorced, and now have to appear on our show." Eventually, the story would be turned into a made-for-TV movie staring some wimpy Walter Mitty type of guy and some washed-up feminist actress like Meredith Baxter Birney which a bunch of fellow perverts would watch just to catch a glimpse of Birney's .
But as time went by, my courage was raised and I started having sex with Cheryl's shoes just about everywhere: the bedroom, the basement, the living room, on the kitchen table, wherever I wanted to.
One afternoon, our cocker-spaniel Buck happened to be in the living room when I decided to have a quick shoe-pork for lunch. He watched intently as I undressed and stuffed my cock into one of the pumps Cheryl had worn the day before. It's outer material was purple satin and it had a one and a half inch black stiletto heel. I lifted the matching pump to my mouth and began sucking on the heel like a baby sucks a pacifier. I'd usually go on stroking my cock inside the shoe for about another twenty minutes before fully creaming up the inside sole, but Buck seemed to be getting more and more curious and strutted over to me, his cock extending from it's sheath.
Just on impulse, I removed the heel from my mouth, licked the bottom sole of the shoe - I love the fresh taste just after Cheryl's worn them - and presented the shoe to Buck on the floor. He smelled it and looked up at me in wonder. He saw my penis tucked inside of her other shoe and seemed to make the connection. He stretched out over the shoe trying to get his penis inside of it but he did not have the coordination. He simply pushed the shoe along the carpet and then flipped it over. He would need my help to lose his virginity.
I got up and brought the shoes into the center of the room where we'd have more space. Sliding the left shoe back onto my penis, I placed the right one on the floor and beckoned to Buck. He came over and again tried to mount the shoe. With my help he was successful and was soon pumping away at her pump. I, in turn, rubbed my penis inside the other shoe, completely intoxicated with the view of Buck's familiar sexual perversion.
The shoe must have really fit for Buck because in nearly five minutes he started drooling and losing control of his thrusts. With half a dozen spastic jabs he deposited his hot thick load into the inner sole of Cheryl's pump. He pulled off the shoe and began to clean himself off.
I on the other hand was still "capable", as Cheryl puts it, and decided to try my luck at such a geometrically challenging method of intercourse. Of course, I would have a benefit that Buck did not. I could mount his shoe and use his semen as a lubricant. Without moving the shoe at all, I lowered my penis into the freshly fucked shoe and began thrusting as I had observed Buck do. It was much more difficult than it looked, especially with an inch-and-a-half heel. Fortunately, the shoe fell on its side as I felt much more comfortable getting at it sideways. I resumed sucking on the heel of Cheryl's other pump and as Buck looked on, I imitated him, drooling and all.
Finally I felt my orgasm peaking and with a single thrust I jammed my penis as far into the shoe as I could. I then flexed my pelvis up and down as several jets of my squirted into the deepest region of Cheryl's pump. Of course this was a region where Buck's had already pooled. As the orgasm subsided I rolled over onto my back and breathed deeply, milking a few final drops of from my penis.
As I lay there feeling sleepy, Buck came over and licked the from my penis and belly. What a nice gesture! However, he also tried to get at the in Cheryl's pump.
Grabbing the shoe I joked with him, "Not so fast, buddy. You've had your share. This is mine."
Saying so I lifted the shoe to my face and tilted the pump back. I could see the viscous mixture of human and dog sperm and lowered my tongue to the sole which spent most of its time caressing Cheryl's . I licked a huge dollop of semen and swished it around in my mouth, testing its flavor. It was warm, salty and tingly and really quite good I must admit. So with a fearless fervor I licked the remaining sperm up and thoroughly cleaned the inside of Cheryl's shoe with my tongue. I gave Buck a chance at any remaining drops which my tongue was not long enough to reach, but just like at the dinner table, he was uninterested in such second-hand scraps.
I cleaned and dried the rest of the shoe out with a tissue, replaced both shoes in
Cheryl's closet, and prepared to go back to work. My mind was racing, though. I had found
a new friend to share my sexual experiences with. Within the next week I had discovered a
new way for us to share Cheryl's shoes.
As I said before, I prefer masturbating with the shoes Cheryl wears the previous day. The Sunday following my first encounter with Buck, Cheryl wore a pair of off-white sling-back flats with a wide but thin wooden heel. These are her generic walking shoes and are nicely worn in. They are both slightly scuffed near the toe and the leather is creased from wear. So on Monday afternoon it was time for Buck and I to have some fun after the long weekend of abstinence.
When I removed my clothes and studied the shoes a thought dawned on me. Because the body of the shoe does not possess a proper heel, only a strap, it could be mounted in two ways. A penis could get in through the top as with any shoe, and also from below the strap where the heel cup usually was. So I took the shoes into the bedroom and lay down on my back in the middle of the bed. Buck followed me with curiosity. I placed one of the shoes on my lower stomach and inserted my growing penis underneath the strap. I was pleased to observe just enough room for another penis. I would need lubrication for this stunt and so I needed to cross the frontier of yet another forbidden sexual world.
First I licked the inner sole of Cheryl's shoe extensively and left as much saliva as I could muster coating the padded sole. Her shoe smelled and tasted so nice I could have continued to lick it all afternoon. Next I drooled into my hand and coated my penis. Now for the big test. Re-inserting my penis into the shoe, below the strap, I called Buck up onto the bed. He was not used to being permitted access to the bed but finally leapt up onto the far corner. When he saw my shoe-encased penis he started sprouting an erection. I called him closer to me and pulled him over so that his hind legs were on either side of my head. His pointy dog dick stuck down toward my face and I sucked it into my mouth. Buck was pleased and began thrusting at my mouth, but I only gave him that pleasure until his penis was as lubricated as my own. I then pushed him back toward my pelvis.
With much effort I was finally able to get him to straddle me and then I inserted his penis into the top of the shoe. Buck's instincts took over and he began bucking and thrusting his penis into the shoe. However, he kept pushing the shoe right off of my cock and I needed someway to keep everything in place. Getting off of the bed I fished out a pair of Cheryl's garters. With these and a few straps I was able to attach the shoe to my legs. A quick lube of the shoe and penises and we were ready to begin again.
This time it worked like a charm. The gentle friction of penis against penis against shoe was enough for both of us. I felt very feminine as I reached up and around Buck, squeezing his buttocks. I looked up into his eyes as he was fucking me and the shoe and was in heaven. He looked both engrossed in his efforts and yet aware that he was pleasing us both with his thrusts. Again it was only about five minutes until he came, but on this occasion we came together.
I first felt Buck's pre- leaking out of his dick onto mine. Then his knot started to grow and it was as if he were tugging on my cock, forcing me to . When I heard him start to growl and felt him squirt his hot into the shoe and on my cock I pulled him close to me and fired my hot gushers into the shoe as well. We were both panting and he was drooling all over the side of my face as we finished leaking out our . Finally he pulled off and allowed me to remove the shoe.
As was our custom, he got to lick off both cocks, while I got what was left in the shoe. This time there were a whole bunch of pubic hairs stuck inside the shoe which must have been yanked off of Buck by the strap. I simply pulled them out and dove in. I must admit I was beginning to love this human/canine sperm cocktail. It was even warmer (because it was fresher) and thicker (because Buck hadn't ejaculated all weekend) than usual.
It got me so excited that after I rested a few minutes I was ready for more. I decided
that since the boundaries had already been crossed, I might as well give Buck the blow job
he deserved. I lay on my back and sucked Buck's penis into my mouth. He was more than
ready and began pumping my face as I caressed his balls with one hand and jerked off
inside Cheryl's shoe with the other. This time Buck must have been more relaxed as he
seemed to simply pour his into my mouth instead of
exhibiting an obvious build-up and release. As I tasted more of his hot tangy semen I
coated Cheryl's flat once again with my own . I lay back in our bed watching
Buck clean out Cheryl's shoe and reveled in the excitement of the previous week. Between
the dog in the day and the wife at night, I was becoming a real sexual dynamo. It seemed
that there might be no end to the fun we could have together.
After about one month of bliss, Cheryl approached me with a problem.
"I'm having real trouble with Buck," she said. "I think we should consider either having him fixed or giving him away."
"What? Have Buck fixed? Why do you want to do that?" I exclaimed. You could imagine my concern over such a tender issue. "What's wrong with him?"
"Well, to put it bluntly, he won't stop having his way with my shoes, and he's beginning to ruin them. As you know, I have great taste in footwear, and I really don't look forward to the expense or the inconvenience of replacing my entire shoe collection every few months because of Buck's indiscretions."
Uh-oh. Now I really was in a pinch. I'd been having a grand old time giving my imagination free-reign and living out my hidden fantasies, but now my indiscretions had gotten Buck into trouble. It may not be over yet, though. Everyone deserves a second chance, especially a nice dog like Buck.
"Come on honey," I replied. "There are other alternatives. All we need to do is keep him out of your closet and he won't be able to play with your shoes."
"I've tried that. I've kept the door to both my closet and our room closed over the last few weeks but somehow, when I'm not around, he gets in there. I really don't want the hassle of keeping all my shoes on the closet shelf or having to lock them down in the basement."
More trouble. I hadn't noticed she intentionally keeping the doors closed, but of course since it was the two of us at play, doors were never an obstacle for Buck.
"What about some simple discouragement. I'll keep an eye on him, and if I see him lurking around our room, the closets in particular, I'll scold him and swat him one. That should change his behavior."
Of course I wouldn't really have to go this far. I could always clean up a little better, or, if need be, stop fooling around for good. God, I hoped it wouldn't come to the latter. The least she could do would be to leave Buck and me one pair of shoes that were already "ruined." Otherwise, I'd have to buy a new pair of shoes, and those are always so much rougher and are not quite as enticing; not to mention I never have enough nerve to get a really good pair of women's shoes myself. They only sell good shoes in quality shoe stores where a man looks quite conspicuous if he buys a pair. The only women's shoes I've ever bought myself were from some big department store chain where I could bury them along with many other items and pretend Cheryl had picked them out but was waiting for me in the car. Those shoes were mostly synthetic leather, i.e., plastic, and never as stimulating as Cheryl's own shoes.
But alas, even this alternative would not be acceptable.
"I'm afraid that won't work either. For the last few days, whenever he came sniffing around by my or shoes, I'd give him a sharp kick in the balls. The way he yelped and backed away made me think it was working. He has been keeping a good distance from my now and I can tell he's not all that happy to see me anymore. But even with that, this afternoon I found more of his dried dog in the bottom of my brown Candies.
I know you are attached to him and all, but he's certainly not my best friend and I'd just as soon get rid of him."
With that last statement I saw a look of real resentment in her face as if she intended to hurt him more than she did with her "sharp kicks." I didn't realize it then, but that streak of sadism would end up being both an incredible turn on and an incredible nightmare for me.
"So that's why you brought up the idea of castration. It's not that you want to stop him from boinking your shoes, you want to make him pay for having already done it."
"I guess you may be right. I hope you don't think I'm crazy, but when I picture him screwing my shoes I somehow just want to destroy him. I want to squish him into a little ball and stomp on him, reducing him to nothing but his little pool of dog jism."
I must admit I was over the edge by that point. Beginning the conversation so close to home so-to-speak, so very close to revealing my most intimate perversion, had had me aroused and in a cold sweat. But the sight of Cheryl revealing her dominant side, her vengeful side, and having it all focused on her and shoes had sent me to oblivion. She was definitely in control and I wouldn't be able to regain it until I had been allowed to leave and collect myself. I say "allowed to leave" because nothing on heaven or earth could have persuaded me to end this conversation myself. I wanted to see where it would go. This was a fantasy coming to life, one which my wife could not say I instigated. Therefore, if it got out of hand, I could always back out later claiming it was never my idea. But this confrontation also had the power to liberate me by bringing my previously secret desires out into the open for trial and inspection. I did not try to stop her. I interjected not a single word.
"Look Russ," she continued, "Buck's just a dog. Not only that, he was basically abandoned by your boss and if you hadn't been kind enough to bring him home, he'd be destroyed now anyway. Help me get out a little of my frustration on him and then we'll get rid of him. OK?"
She looked at me with a combination of lust and innocence, the way a child might ask for a piece of chocolate when he knows it's almost time for dinner. She really wanted this and I wanted to see her dominate him the way I realized I wanted her to take control of me. This was all just fuel for my private, perverted fire.
"What do you want to do to him?"
Her face lit up. She knew she would get her way. She leaned toward me with a gleam in her eyes.
"I want you to help me to get him to screw my shoes again. I want to be there playing with his balls and just when he comes, I want to squeeze them real hard. Then we can bring him to the pound and get rid of him for good. I just want to be sure that he associates my body with pain, the way he seems to associate my shoes with pleasure."
I had a full erection by now, but I don't think Cheryl knew that. She ascertained the status of my arousal none-the-less. I gave it away by my response. I said "yes." Only I didn't say "Yes, if you really want to, I'll go along," or "Yes, I think your a pervert but your my wife." Instead I sort of croaked out a yes the way I had accepted sex for the first time when I was fifteen. I was so amazed, and so willing, and so afraid the girl might come to her senses and change her mind, that I simply said "yes" in a quiet, hollow voice as if the word had been uttered not by a puff of breath floating past my vocal cords and out through my open mouth, but rather by the rustling of my penis within my boxer shorts. It was a yes all right, but any woman of any experience would have recognized it was a yes of overwhelming eagerness rather than one of simple willingness. Cheryl is a woman of experience.
"Go move the coffee table out of the living room and then go get Buck," she said. "I'm going to get out of my stockings and put on those brown flats he loves so much."
I figured I was moving the table so she'd have more room next to the couch. Buck and I had
played with her shoes in that room several times without having the table interfere, but
we always did our business on the far side of the room near the television, where there
was enough room to lie down and really get comfortable. But she must have intended to sit
while Buck was extended and therefore I was hauling the table into the kitchen.
Buck was much easier to get into the room than the table was out, as our escapades had made him quite eager to spend time with me. So I sat on the couch with Buck, stroking his penis lightly to keep him in the mood for when Cheryl came out.
Getting out of her stockings was an understatement; she came into the room completely naked except for her brown leather loafers. I could tell she was not kidding about Buck being resentful of her when she got near him. He quivered immediately and tried to spring >from the couch. But I hugged him tightly and assured him that everything would be all right. Cheryl responded similarly and we must have convinced him of our good intentions because he settled down quickly and quietly. We sat there on the couch for a few minutes while Cheryl prepared to make her move. It didn't take long.
Cheryl removed her right shoe and lowered it, inner sole up, to Buck's nose.
"Does Buckkie want to pway with mommy's shoe?" she queried with one of those annoying Elmer Fudd voices I think Buck hated as much as I.
Now was the moment of truth. Would Buck accept such an obviously devious offer or would he read right through it. Not willing to chance it, I pulled her shoe from her hand and brought it near to the floor.
"Come on, Buck," I said. "Time for a little fun, boy."
Buck jumped at the chance. He assumed the position almost instantly and I inserted his penis into her flat, tucking his testicles into the heel. As he began to pump at the shoe in my hand I looked up to see what Cheryl wanted to do. She responded quickly. She told me to let go of the shoe and pushed down on Buck's back with her . That lowered him so that he was thrusting into the shoe on ground level. It was mostly in vain as the friction of the shoe on his penis was greater than the shoe on the carpet and his thrusts simply moved the shoe back and forth. I usually helped him do shoes without any heel by holding onto the shoe while he fucked it but I didn't want to let on to Cheryl that I had done this before.
However Cheryl obviously had a plan in mind. She slowly pushed him slightly onto his side, so that she would have access to the shoe. She then asked me to hold him tight. While I clutched at him, seemingly expending all my strength to keep him steady, she gently placed her bare into the shoe and onto his penis.
Buck relaxed completely, half from the uncertain pleasure awaiting him, and half knowing that any movement would cause severe pain as his balls were partially trapped under Cheryl's . Cheryl began to pump the sole of her up and down, stimulating Buck's penis.
By now Buck realized this was to be a pleasure trip and began to thrust his pelvis in rhythm to the pumping of Cheryl's . Cheryl needed more leverage and slowly stood up so she could devote all her energy into stimulating Buck with her funny-looking one-step dance, while also keeping her shoe from sliding across the floor. I in turn did my part to hold onto Buck and to keep him in place. Not to mention being completely aroused by this -shoe sex show which I was finally witnessing, after fantasizing about it throughout my life. Cheryl was obviously aroused as well, judging from the vigor with which she rubbed her clit.
As Buck started to growl and leak out pre-, Cheryl told me to stand back. She claimed that Buck might snap at me when she inflicted the pain she intended too. I stood up and backed up one giant step, not able to resist placing my hands in my pockets and stroking my penis. Then it happened.
With a hearty grunt and a small stream of drool, Buck spasmed inside Cheryl's shoe. He released jet after jet of his hot dog into the toe of her flat and judging by the semi-orgasmic look on Cheryl's face, she could feel him cumming underneath her toes. She allowed him to release all of his pent up sperm into his favorite shoe and continued pumping him and his newly formed knot for close to a minute after he came. All the while she continued to stimulate herself as well. I noticed a familiar small dark brown stain forming at the tip of her shoe. It was the stain caused by the liquid component of semen and would disappear within a few hours. Unfortunately for Buck, he wouldn't see her unstained shoe again.
Suddenly, Cheryl lifted her left and stepped lightly onto Buck's midsection. This shifted most of her weight onto her right , the one on Buck's penis, and slowly but forcefully she rocked back onto her heel. I swear that despite Buck's yelp, I could still hear (and feel) the crunch of his testicles under her formidable weight. As Cheryl had predicted, he lurched. However, as Cheryl stood on his side, the contraction of his side and leg muscles did little except to rip a few threads from the carpet. Then, as Cheryl rocked once more onto her toes and again back onto his balls, they finally gave way with a gulping sound as if Cheryl's had swallowed them. This time I know I heard them crunch as Buck made not a sound. He simply lie there wincing with his eyes closed and his tongue extended.
Cheryl, on the other hand, had orgasmed. As I said, the feeling of having him squirt his load through her toes, with his only stimulation being from her and shoe, had brought her close to orgasm. But as she felt his vital organs, his precious jewels, crush underneath her weight, she came in full force.
Having been told the day before, that Cheryl would stomp my dog's balls to mush, would have no doubt surprised me and possibly excited me. But her next actions truly shocked me.
She lifted her from his midsection and sat back on the couch. She lifted the which crushed Buck out of its shoe and, crossing her legs, released Buck's still hard penis and now creamy testicular tissue. I could see his ejaculate clinging to the ball of her and her toes like tinsel on a Christmas tree. She removed his penis from her shoe, carefully wiping any semen off of his dick and into the mouth of her shoe. Putting her sperm-filled shoe back on her sperm-covered she stood up. She looked carefully at Buck's unflinching head and closed eyes, closed her own eyes, and then jumped.
She came down with both square on the side of Buck's head, pressing it into the carpet. She impressed me with her ability to balance on his pinned noggin, but she didn't balance for more than a second. Instead she jumped up and down on his face again, and again, and again. On the second thrust I heard the cartilage in his snout crack. By the fourth, his skull compressed with a similar but definitely meatier sound than his testicles. I watched dumbfounded as she jumped on him over and over again until his head was simply a bloody mass of broken bone and cranial tissue. Finally she stopped jumping and ground the oozing mush into the carpet. It looked remarkably similar to someone wiping his on a bearskin rug.
After his head was sufficiently homogenized, she actually did wipe the blood and gook from her onto his carcass and reclined again on the couch. She looked at me from that state of dopey-post-orgasm-satisfaction, and motioned me over to her.
"Do me," she said as she lifted her legs in the air. "I want it now."
I guess I should have been repulsed by her after seeing what she had just done to Buck, but instead I was as turned on as she was. I ripped off my clothes exposing my erect penis and dove on top of her. As I began pumping her she lifted her legs even higher and rested her ankles on my shoulders. I looked over and saw Buck's final shot oozing down her ankle and calf. I couldn't resist. Grabbing her leg I began to lick up his for the last time and Cheryl loved it. She kept cumming and cumming as I licked his spunk off of her calf and ankle. Losing myself in the moment, I removed her shoe and while I sucked the remaining dog jism from her bare toes and instep, I came as well. She rubbed the sole of her all over my face and I speculate that from her perspective, she fantasized she was stomping on my head as well.
After such a stimulating evening, Cheryl had the luxury of wandering off to sleep,
while I remained to clean up the room. Kneeling next to Buck, I was surprised to observe
that his penis was still knotted and hard. I thought rigor mortis only applied to bones
not boners, but something was giving him in a permanent erection. I felt his scrotum and
what used to be his testicles. Instead of feeling like mush, they still retained much of
their solid feel. They felt more like tiny flat cheese wheels which had been split open
when being stepped on. I slipped Cheryl's shoe back onto his penis, wrapped his remains in
an old bed spread and carried him out into the yard to give him a decent burial. I figured
the blood on the carpet would come up with a good steam clean, but we've since had the
front room recarpeted.
Things were tense around the house for a few days after that. The next morning Cheryl woke
up, showered, and prepared to go to work, all without a single word. She wouldn't even
look me in the eye. Finally I cornered her in the bedroom, hugged her and asked what was
wrong.
"You must think I'm a monster," she sobbed.
I hugged her more tightly and began kissing her all over her face. I got her in the forehead, temples and cheeks mostly. She wouldn't give me mouth-to-mouth access. She was beginning to cry and her face was rather salty.
"Listen," I replied. "I know this will be hard for you to accept right now, but it is all right. I'm sure you feel pretty lousy letting yourself get out of control last night..."
"But I killed him. I just planned to squish his, you know, but I ended up stomping on his head! I'm scared because I really think I enjoyed it."
"Calm down. I'm not saying that this will be easy for you to come to terms with. It's going to take us both some time to figure out why we let what happened last night happen. But I want you to know that I love you and I'm here for you and we'll work this out together."
"You're such a good husband. You always put up with me."
"You're easy to put up with."
I suggested that she take the day off from work but she insisted work would help her to take her mind off this. As I cleaned the carpet, I realized that she was probably much better off at work. I think I would have been as well.
We didn't talk much about "the incident" for a while after that; although, I
could see the pain in Cheryl's eyes. She wouldn't go back into the living room, not until
I had the carpet replaced. The steam-cleaner did an excellent job considering the extent
of the stain, but you could still see the pale rose silhouette of Buck's head.
Surprisingly, one day the next week she seemed to recover all at once. She left for work morose and withdrawn but returned energetic and self-assure. That night shortly before dinner she joined me on the couch and asked if we could talk about Buck.
"Sure, " I said. "What's on your mind."
"I've replayed the whole Buck incident over in my mind a million times since last week. A few things still bother me about it."
I wanted to give her a little note of reassurance that this was natural, but something in her demeanor suggested that reassurance was not what she was after.
"Like what?"
"Well, for one, I keep picturing Buck trying to hump my shoe. He couldn't do it. It kept sliding away from him with each of his thrusts."
"Yeah. The sole of the shoe was too slippery."
"Of course." She paused. "And yet he seemed to have no trouble a few days before when he fucked it all by himself."
She looked directly into my eyes awaiting a response. I started to turn red and looked down at the floor. She crossed her legs toward me and started to dangle her black leather flat from her toes. She was wearing a short black skirt and her legs were bare except for the shoes. I caught my breath and looked back at her sort of shrugging my shoulders.
"In fact," she continued, "I realize now that either he was able to fuck my shoes inside my closet without disturbing any of the rest of my wardrobe, or else he was clever enough to remove my shoes, do his business, and then replace them."
I didn't dare to look at her this time. I looked straight off into the distance. There was no need to speculate about the freedom I might gain if she knew about my perversion. I knew that she knew. Right then I was just captivated by her shoe. Even without looking at it, I could sense the motion as she rocked it back and forth on her toes.
"Finally, I can't help thinking about you. About how little apprehension you showed in licking Buck's right off of my and leg. I bet a lot of men would be repulsed at the thought of swallowing dog jism or of licking a woman's ."
I leaned back and looked her in the eye, trying to act normal. I failed miserably.
"Tell me Russ. Had you eaten Buck's prior to that night? And had you helped him fuck my shoes before, maybe eating his right out of them when he had finished?"
I turned beet red. You would have thought a freshly boiled lobster was pale if you looked at it just after staring at my face. I wanted to leave and not deal with this conversation, or maybe lie and tell her Cheryl was crazy. I could have turned the tables back on her with some cutting remark about what she did to Buck. But somehow my head simply nodded the affirmation she was probing for. She was not surprised, rather she seemed quite satisfied that her suspicions were correct. Here I had been the one who had consoled her in her pain less than one week ago, and now she was making my fall from grace so very awkward. She made me tell her all about my secret desires, and about how I would lick and smell her shoes and even in them when she wasn't around. I finished by telling her about the last month with Buck. I didn't tell her all the real crazy stuff, mind you, like the garters and blow jobs. I just told her we'd both do her shoes and share each others . I figured that was crazy enough to keep her occupied.
"So tell me Russ," she began in a patronizing, domineering voice. "Do you want to lick my shoes right now? Am I getting you all aroused simply by sitting here?"
I looked into her mocking eyes and then down to her shoe, still dangling there on her . She made it do a little dance by wiggling her and toes, and then with one quick flex, she flicked it back up onto her heel. It made a slight whispering sound when she did it and I could smell the leather aroma float past my nostrils.
"Huhhh?" she continued. "Does Russie want to pway with mommy's shoe wike Buckie did?" The shoe popped off her heel again.
"I really hate that stupid voice," I replied frankly.
"Is that so," she responded forcefully. "Well maybe you'll like this one a little better. Get down on your knees and lick my shoes."
I looked at her to see if she was serious.
"I'm not kidding, Russ. You've had so much fun without me I think it's time I got to witness your little shoe ritual."
She was serious.
I knelt down next to her and eyed her beautiful leather upper, floating gracefully in front of my face. It was black leather and had a crest insignia embossed right on the top. The sole was probably black once as well, but was now grey and scuffed from walking on rough pavement. Cheryl moved the shoe towards my mouth.
I began by kissing the leather surface both on the top and sides of her shoe. The smell and taste took control of me as I began licking the surface with utter abandon. I lifted Cheryl's in my hand and began licking and kissing the bottom sole of her shoe. With my teeth I started to scrape at the sole directly below the ball of her . I could tell that she felt that through her shoe and that it stimulated her.
She nudged me away from her and lowered her . Kicking off both shoes she said, "Well, go to it shoe-man. Let's see what you do when I'm not around."
I removed my shirt and trousers revealing a firm erection. I lay down on my back at her , quite close I'm sure to where Buck had been, and stuffed my cock inside one of her shoes. She placed her on my chest and I brought the other shoe up to my nose and inhaled deeply.
In many ways, this was a better experience than I ever had in the past, as her shoes were still warm from her . I rubbed my cock into her left shoe as I licked the inner sole of her right one. My entire nose and mouth were inside this shoe and I inhaled through it as if it were an oxygen mask. Cheryl did her part by rubbing her on my chest and occasionally pressing down on the shoe on top of my face. It wasn't long before I filled her black flat with my white . I flipped the jism-filled shoe upright, lay it on my belly and continued breathing through her other upper.
She rubbed my cock with her , milking out the last few drops of come and then rubbed her in the pooled jism. She wiggled this back into the shoe on my belly and then flipped the shoe I was breathing through over with her other . After pinching my nose with her toes, she slid into that shoe as well.
"I think its time we had dinner," she said as she stood up on my chest. "You ought to get dressed." She stepped on my pelvis just a hair away from my shriveling penis and then walked off of me and out of the room. I was left to put on my clothes and contemplate what had just occurred.
Dinner was quite awkward for me after engaging in such a perverted display, however Cheryl seemed to enjoy the meal immensely. She talked energetically about her day at work, something I had not been able to get her to do all week. All through the meal she kept rubbing her shoe against my thigh as if she was some naughty little schoolgirl breaking school code by holding hands with the boy seated next to her. I actually started to enjoy it after a while. It was sort of naughty in a way. We were intimately connected through the in her shoe, but if anyone had been there at the table with us, they would know nothing about it. After desert we remained at the table and Cheryl lifted her into my lap. I lovingly stroked her calves and began to think I really might enjoy this new lifestyle. We talked about a million things, our dinner conversation lasting well over an hour. We were like newlyweds.
The newlywed feeling didn't end after dinner either. Cheryl cleaned up while I watched television and then she bounced into the room, sat beside me and again kicked her up in my lap. We smiled at each other and I gently rubbed her shin. When she picked up a magazine and began reading, I slid my arm down her leg and rested it on her ankles. I, in turn, directed my attention back to the television.
The television programming that night had a difficult time in maintaining my interest. Cheryl kept rocking her back and forth. The combination of the captivating leather aroma of her shoes, the faint ammonia scent of my semen, and the pendulum-like rocking of her peds was making her shoes the center of my attention, whether I liked it or not.
Now this whole situation may appear somewhat puzzling. Over the last few pages I've expounded, in depth, my interest, attraction and lust for Cheryl's shoes. I may not have mentioned it, but this desire to hold and kiss her shoes is not solely a phenomenon of the shape and scents of the shoes themselves. The desire is deeply rooted in the knowledge that these shoes, whether I have access to her own shoes or am deprived to only a surrogate shoe not physically touched by her, have caressed and continue to caress her daily. In fact, no other object or being on the planet can make such a claim. So now that this deep devotion to Cheryl's and shoes was open for discussion and experimentation between us, it might seem strange that I would be content in continuing to watch television instead of giving into my perversion and resuming sexual relations with her shoes.
It all comes back to fear. The reason I continued staring at the screen of that television, oblivious to whatever images were chosen to be flashed at me, was that I was afraid Cheryl still might not be accepting of my fetish. I was afraid that if I began rubbing her , and playing with her shoes, that she might begin to think this whole thing might be a little bit more than she could handle. After all, I just as well might have swept her up in my arms, carried her off into the bedroom and made mad, passionate, unperverted love to her. I didn't think she'd be happy to lose that aspect of our relationship. Neither would I. I didn't want her to think I was any different today than I had been any of the days before. So I sat there, excited as hell, completely mesmerized by the rocking of her , and I pretended to watch the damn TV.
Soon I heard her lower the magazine and felt her looking at me. I pretended not to notice her stare as I pretended not to notice her , but she wasn't satisfied.
"Don't you want to lick my shoes some more?" she asked as she jiggled her in my lap.
"If you'd like me to," I calmly replied.
"Yeah, I would. Lick them some more for me."
She slid toward me on the couch, bending her legs and digging her into my thigh. She then lifted her right , presenting it to my face for affection. I grabbed her lower leg and and began licking the side of her leather shoe, still captivated by the pungent leather aroma. I then stuck the entire toe of her shoe into my mouth and sucked on it like a huge misshapen lollipop. She let out a deep sigh and pressed her left further into my lap, rubbing it harder into my groin. I continued to suck on her shoe for a few more seconds before returning to a thorough cleaning of the side of her shoe and of her . When my tongue started to creep down inside the crevice between her and shoe, she pulled them both away and again stretched her legs out over my own.
"I think that's enough. We want to save some fun for later, dear," Cheryl commented with a smile.
I smiled back completely oblivious to what she was alluding to and again tried to be absorbed by the television. But my recollections concerning the recent events of the day, the leather taste in my mouth, and my raging hard-on made it difficult to think of anything but the and shoes resting just beside me. I resumed caressing her shins.
"Do you want to have sex?" she blurted out after a few more minutes. She didn't bother waiting for an answer. "Come on, let's go do it. All this shoe stuff of yours has got me real horny." With that she hopped up and led me into our bedroom. Even though Buck wasn't there to disturb us anymore, she closed the door to our room anyway.
We both removed our clothes except that Cheryl had still not removed her shoes from our previous sexual encounter. She seemed to be enjoying keeping some of my semen beneath her . For only the second time in our relationship I began making love to her while she wore shoes. Again she rested her ankles on my shoulders as I pumped away at her.
For my part, I was still apprehensive as to what her plans would be concerning my shoe fetish. For her part, she was pretty turned on and came well before I did. As she did she moved her so that once again they pressed against my face, this time with her shoes on. I began licking the soles of her shoes and became more aroused. Cheryl never ceased being aroused and kicked her right shoe off using my face. She pressed her barefoot over my mouth and left eye. These little piggies were dry. She then kicked off her other shoe and pressed this on my mouth and other eye. These little piggies was slimy with my seed and Cheryl rubbed it into my face and mouth. I felt my passion build as I sucked my shoe-fermented off of her toes and finally I exploded inside of her. She came as well and playfully kicked at my face as she did.
I slept peacefully that night secure in the fact that no harm would come of Cheryl's discovery.
The next morning, however, things already began to change.
"I don't want you making any lewd advances to my shoes when I'm not around, is that understood," Cheryl ordered. "I want you to promise me; I know that you are a man of your word and can be trusted."
"I promise. No lewd advances without you."
"Now kiss my shoes before I leave for work."
I got on my knees and kissed the tops of her pumps.
"See you at six, my little puppy," she said while patting me on the head. "Be a good boy and maybe I'll give you another treat before dinner tonight," she remarked as she walked out of the door. I could sense I was in trouble.
This feeling of impending trouble bothered me all day long. I couldn't go to work because my mind was too occupied with the events of the previous twenty-four hours. As I roamed around the house, not being able to fool around in Cheryl's closet, I had a terrible feeling in my gut. I just couldn't put a finger on it.
Is that so. Well maybe you'll like this one a little better. Get down on your knees and lick my shoes.
No, that didn't bother me. That actually had been quite a turn-on. No, there was something else she said that made me worry. It finally occurred to me. It wasn't what she said the night before. It was what she said the week before.
I guess you may be right. I hope you don't think I'm crazy, but when I picture him screwing my shoes I somehow just want to destroy him. I want to squish him into a little ball and stomp on him, reducing him to nothing but his little pool of dog jism.
She had said that the night she killed Buck. When she had said those words, she had that same look in her eyes that she had had last night. She had that look when she drew the truth out of me. She had it when she made me lick her shoes. She had it when she pressed her on my face.
From her perspective, it just might look like she was stomping on my head.
See you at six, my little puppy.
My little puppy.
Finally the idea which had been bothering me all day crystallized in my mind.
"I'm like Buck to her," I thought. "I'm her little puppy who screws her shoes. She doesn't like dogs screwing her shoes and stomps all over them. She wants to stomp on me like she stomped on Buck."
I nearly fainted in terror.
There was nothing for me to do, however. I was in too deep. I had to just wait it out.
It's been two weeks now since my initial confessions to Cheryl and my subsequent
realization of her intent. She hasn't succeeded in crushing me like Buck, though. Yet
every night before dinner, she makes me insert my penis and testicles into one of the
shoes she wore that day, and then she masturbates me with her just
like she did to Buck. So far, however, after I've , she has simply lifted her to
remove my penis, and stepped back into her shoe. At night we fuck again and I lick the
off of her
while she playfully kicks me in the face.
It's really making me nervous, though. Last night I had a nightmare that Cheryl was running after Buck and me wearing these huge clown shoes. She was crushing anything and everything in her path: cars, houses, people, etc. I woke up drenched in sweat with Cheryl's lodged against my chest.
This morning as I began writing this, I gave it some more thought. I wonder if the reason she hasn't crushed my balls yet is that her shoes are too small. Dogs and people have many physical differences, some of which are in the area of the genitals. Buck's penis was much thinner and pointer than mine, allowing both it and Cheryl's to fit into her shoe at the same time. The knot in his dick provided a perfect pivot from which she could shift her weight >from his penis to his testicles. My penis is larger and thicker, especially at the base, and I don't think Cheryl could crush my balls that way if she tried.
But she might be able to if she had a larger shoe...
"Hi honey, I'm home," Cheryl called from the front door. "Where are you? Come and help me carry in the new shoes I just bought. I decided that with both of us sharing them all the time, I should probably buy a few pair of size eleven's."