Greedy shoe fetishist gets his fill.

I got a call the other day from a shoe obsessed submissive who wanted me to help modify his somewhat problematic behaviour,

“Help me get over my shoe fetish” he said…

So I asked him just what sort of a problem this fetish was causing. He confessed about lying to a woman at work, telling her that she had something on her shoe, just so he could get down on his knees and “assist” her. “Before I could think twice about what I was doing, I had already done it”, he said. “She looked at me like I was crazy, I felt so embarrassed and prayed that she wouldn’t say anything to our colleagues in the office. Then I broke into a cold sweat, wondering if my eyes had given away my true intentions and thinking about what would happen if she told our boss.” As you can imagine, I was not impressed. Firstly, never violate a woman in that way, and secondly never expect any sympathy from me for acting like such an arsehole. I made him beg for a while, listening to him pleading with me for his impending punishment was vaguely entertaining. I could tell I was going to enjoy punishing this sneaky little piss-taking bastard.

I went to the corner of the room, picked up a large box and upturned it as he knelt in front of me. His eyes grew wide as he noticed the number of shoes that were falling out, shoe after shoe after shoe tumbled before his eyes. “You are going to ‘take’ every single one of these heels”, I said.

Dressed in nothing but a size 10 pair of heels I made him assume the position, down on all fours like the dog that he is. The heels of another pair of shoes were put into each hand, forcing him to hold himself up by his knuckles. Then I found a heavy pair of platforms in my little box of joy and attached them to his nipples with clamps. A second pair was attached to his scrotum by a pin encrusted parachute… A good job I bought a pair of those ones in each colour. I took a moment to watch them dangle there. Then I took out a two-toned pink pair of Alexander McQueens, my ‘pride and joys’, and placed them on his lower back just above the buttocks. “Now you’re ready”, I said, while watching a flash of trepidation in his eyes. I stuck another heel in his mouth to shut him up, then walked around behind him. Slipping a  condom over the second heel, I slowly began inserting it in and out of his exposed anus. Spit roasted by his beloved high-heeled shoes, the irony made me giggle.

When I became bored with that activity I went to get my cane, “Don’t drop my ‘pride and joys’ now” I said to him, before his real punishment began.