Lilith
She who would not lie below
Lilith was bored; bored and frustrated. She hadn’t had a man in days, and she had a legendary sex drive – a drive which needed to be satisfied regularly; on an hourly basis if at all possible. Sure she had her nymphomaniac sex toys to keep her company, but sometimes only a real man would do!
Shame there weren’t any around these parts!
Ironic really – given that she lived in the city’s Red Light district!
She went over to her city-centre, apartment window and drew back the net curtain. It was still pouring with rain, and she could hear the penetrating wind singing like a siren down the alleyway outside. She looked down towards the secluded alcove at the far end of the narrow alleyway and smiled. Ha! Ha! He was, of course, still there – the raggedy-assed, public footslave; never off duty; whatever the weather. Ha! Ha! Soaked to the skin, and looking totally miserable with his head bowed forlornly over his wooden footblock as he knelt in an ever increasing pool of rain. Ha! Ha! His footslave-alcove may be reasonably ‘secluded’, but it sure doesn’t offer him much protection from the horrors of the wind and the rain – he looks like a drowned rat! Ha! Ha!
The vision of the beast chained up to his footblock only reaffirmed Lilith in her somewhat cynical views – there are no real men around here! For the slave certainly wasn’t a real man! She had never even used his local footwear-cleaning services, since there is nothing the impotent, drowned slave-rat can do for her sexually!
Or is there...?
A flash of inspiration suddenly entered into Lilith’s ghostly-pale, 22 year old head – just as a flash of lightning lit up the otherwise dank and gloomy, early evening alleyway. By the time the thunder hit she was already pulling on her beige-coloured, knee-length raincoat, and fetching her black umbrella from the umbrella stand in her hallway.
Lock up your menfolk! Goddess-Mistress Lilith is venturing out!
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
When she got to the kneeling footslave he appeared to be asleep, his forehead bowed and resting uneasily on the drenched, wooden footblock where her sharp, stiletto-heeled foot should now, by rights, be positioned.
She promptly moved round behind him and kicked him unceremoniously in the butt, whilst shouting at him with succubine venom:
‘WAKE UP, SLAVE!’
Her voice echoed eerily off the rainsoaked, alleyway walls.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Public footslave no. 666 awoke with a start and a sting in his tail. The first things he saw, standing behind him, were the pointy, red, leathery toes of a young woman’s, stylish high-heeled shoes. Hell! He must have dozed off again, despite, or perhaps because of, the cold and the rain! He felt mortified – for no high-heeled, young woman should ever have to wake up a public footslave with the piqued toe of her pointy, red shoe. He should always be ready and willing to serve at the feet and footwear of superior young women, whatever the time of day or night; and whatever the weather!
Mind you, this particular, young woman must be insane to be out and about in such inclement weather as this! Another rumble of thunder reminded him, if he needed reminding, of his drowned rat status in the city-centre alleyway, as he felt yet another raindrop sliding off his nose and down onto the sodden footblock-cum-wooden-pillow beneath his kneeling face.
Fortunately, the raindrop did not sully the angry, young woman’s stylish, red, high-heeled shoe, as she had not yet moved round to face him and position her pretty foot and ankle onto the now vacated footblock. As she did walk round to face him, however – her red high-heels click-clacking seductively across the soaking wet cobblestones of the alleyway – she inadvertently provided him with some shelter, for her black umbrella was now deflecting the rainwater down his bare back and away from the top of his balding, middle-aged head.
He should truly be thankful for such small mercies!
After a few seconds of quiet contemplation, the raven-haired, and presumably insane, young woman duly stretched out her right leg and carefully positioned her right, high-heeled foot onto the damp, wooden footblock beneath his face:
‘Shine it up, slave!’
‘Yes, mistress! At once, mistress!’
It was not a red shoe, on a white foot, that he was familiar with – though the pretty, young woman must surely be local? Why else would she have ventured down this God-forsaken alleyway to have her shoes shined on such an apocalyptically miserable day as this? He even wondered if she may be a newly-arrived working girl; a fallen woman of some sort? But he concluded that she wasn’t; she just didn’t give off the aura of a harlot! She seemed much too angelic!
She was definitely new to his shoelick-stand, however – he never forgot a pretty ankle; especially not one like this, shod in a finest-denier, flesh-toned, nylon stocking; nylon which would be practically invisible to the naked eye were it not for the finest of wrinkles just below the dark-haired girl’s shapely, young-womanly anklebone, caused by the arrogantly-outstretched positioning of her foot onto the footblock. Nice calf muscles as well, he noted, as the hem of her beige-coloured raincoat had ridden revealingly up to just above her equally shapely, nylon-protected kneecap.
But he is getting ideas above his station! He is a public footslave, and right now his only legitimate business is to tongueshine this attractive young woman’s red leather, high-heeled shoe – as she has ordered him to do – starting with the mud-splashed, pointy toe-end; then proceeding along her equally mud-stained instep; and finally reaching her three inch, metal-tipped, red stiletto heel at the back. He must lick the shoe, the whole of the shoe, and nothing but the shoe. Her flesh-toned stocking, sadly, was out of bounds to him – though he could, of course, look at it whilst he licked red ladyshoe!
He did look at it, and he liked the way the sheer, nylon stocking material creased even more as the young woman helpfully twisted her foot around in order to afford his tongue easier access to both the side and back of her stiletto-heeled shoe.
She didn’t say anything whilst he was lapping up her muddy, red shoeleather, and he had no way of gauging what she was thinking, but silence on the part of a customer-mistress is normally a good indicator of a quiet satisfaction on her part with the humble foot-servitude being provided. So he was feeling reasonably relaxed, if still a little butt-sore from his earlier, rude awakening.
After some 5 minutes, and several more frightening flashes of lightning and raucous rattles of thunder overhead, she demonically switched feet beneath him:
‘And the other one, slave!’
He was pleased that the young woman had switched feet, for her left foot not only contained little nylon creases over the ankle, it also contained several tiny, wet patches where the rain had been splashing up against it, making the nylon slightly darker in places – truly a sight for sore, footslave eyes!
Again, the young woman’s, bright red, high-heeled shoe wobbled somewhat on the wooden footblock as she adjusted the angle of her foot to enable his tongue to reach the less accessible areas of mud and grime stuck to the back.
She seemed to sigh almost pleasurably as his tongue reached the back of her spiked heel, and then, suddenly, like another bolt of lightning from out of the heavily-laden skies, came a most unexpected ‘request’ from the young, raven-haired, devil-woman standing above him:
‘I’m feeling really horny now, slave! Would you mind if I penetrated your mouth with my heel?’
Public footslave no. 666 could hardly believe his ears! Did she just say what he thought she had said? Or was he hallucinating? Fantasising? Driven mad by the inclement weather?
It wasn’t so much the young woman’s desire to violate his mouth with her high-heel which shocked him – that was a not too infrequent experience for a down-in-the-dirt, back-alleyway footslave located within the Red Light district! No – it was the fact that she was actually seeking his consent to penetrate him orally! She was offering him – a slave – an element of free will! Ha! Ha! Such a sweet and naive, young woman! For by law, of course, she can do whatever she damn well likes to his maleslave, oral orifice! This is a Gynarchic paradise, after all!
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
Lilith was, in actual fact, well aware that she didn’t require the pathetic slave’s consent to mouth-penetrate him! But she wanted to hear him beg for it, just like the men who liked hearing her beg for them to penetrate her! Ha! Ha! Now the tables would be turned – she was the one on top! She was the male; and he was the female! Ha! Ha! This was going to be fun!
The submissive, male slave didn’t disappoint her:
‘Oh pray, pretty mistress! Oh yes please, pretty mistress! Pray penetrate my mouth with your dirty, spiked heel, if it would be so pleasing to you, pretty, raven-haired mistress?’
Ha! Ha! He was, literally, gagging for it! Good!
She laughed at him evilly from beneath her protective umbrella as yet another lightning bolt lit up the thunderous, grey sky above:
‘Ha! Ha! Open wide then, slave!’
The fool duly opened his ugly, slave mouth as wide as it could go, and she masterfully inserted her long, spiked heel into his mouth, pushing it roughly up against the inside of his cheek so that it looked grotesquely and painfully distended from the outside.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Public footslave no. 666 almost retched as the female heel then moved cruelly from the inside of his cheek down towards the top of his throat. He felt the girl scraping her spiked heel against the delicate membrane at the very top of his throat. It may have been consensual penetration, but it wasn’t exactly gentle; just the way Lilith liked it – hard and dirty!
She laughed out loud at his pathetic gagging on her heel, and then jabbed the metal-tipped spike against his vulnerable teeth and gums, before eventually thrusting it back into his inner cheek lining, as she found it made him look so hilariously funny with his cheek all unnaturally stretched and distended beneath her! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! He looked like some sort of ghoulish, mediaeval gargoyle!
This was brilliant! Why hadn’t she thought of this before?
She glanced round to ensure Satan was behind her, and then began rubbing herself beneath her dirty raincoat. Soon – all too soon – she achieved orgasm, at which point she somewhat selfishly withdrew her foot from the slave’s mouth.
But it was too late – for the first time in years the impotent slave was also spent!
‘Ha! Ha! How was it for you, slave?’ Lilith asked coyly as she readjusted her red skirt beneath her raincoat.
‘Oh pray, mistress! Oh thank you, mistress! God bless you mistress! This slave is truly honoured to have taken your shoe in his mouth, and to have provided you with sensual pleasure, most pretty, raven-haired goddess!’
Yes – his mouth was scraped and raw inside. But as the laughing, young, raven-haired woman turned on her glistening, red high-heels to walk jubilantly away from him, he hoped she would be more than just a one-night stand, and that she would come again; and keep on coming over him!
Just like the rain…
Lilith was bored; bored and frustrated. She hadn’t had a man in days, and she had a legendary sex drive – a drive which needed to be satisfied regularly; on an hourly basis if at all possible. Sure she had her nymphomaniac sex toys to keep her company, but sometimes only a real man would do!
Shame there weren’t any around these parts!
Ironic really – given that she lived in the city’s Red Light district!
She went over to her city-centre, apartment window and drew back the net curtain. It was still pouring with rain, and she could hear the penetrating wind singing like a siren down the alleyway outside. She looked down towards the secluded alcove at the far end of the narrow alleyway and smiled. Ha! Ha! He was, of course, still there – the raggedy-assed, public footslave; never off duty; whatever the weather. Ha! Ha! Soaked to the skin, and looking totally miserable with his head bowed forlornly over his wooden footblock as he knelt in an ever increasing pool of rain. Ha! Ha! His footslave-alcove may be reasonably ‘secluded’, but it sure doesn’t offer him much protection from the horrors of the wind and the rain – he looks like a drowned rat! Ha! Ha!
The vision of the beast chained up to his footblock only reaffirmed Lilith in her somewhat cynical views – there are no real men around here! For the slave certainly wasn’t a real man! She had never even used his local footwear-cleaning services, since there is nothing the impotent, drowned slave-rat can do for her sexually!
Or is there...?
A flash of inspiration suddenly entered into Lilith’s ghostly-pale, 22 year old head – just as a flash of lightning lit up the otherwise dank and gloomy, early evening alleyway. By the time the thunder hit she was already pulling on her beige-coloured, knee-length raincoat, and fetching her black umbrella from the umbrella stand in her hallway.
Lock up your menfolk! Goddess-Mistress Lilith is venturing out!
………………………………………………………………………………………………………
When she got to the kneeling footslave he appeared to be asleep, his forehead bowed and resting uneasily on the drenched, wooden footblock where her sharp, stiletto-heeled foot should now, by rights, be positioned.
She promptly moved round behind him and kicked him unceremoniously in the butt, whilst shouting at him with succubine venom:
‘WAKE UP, SLAVE!’
Her voice echoed eerily off the rainsoaked, alleyway walls.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Public footslave no. 666 awoke with a start and a sting in his tail. The first things he saw, standing behind him, were the pointy, red, leathery toes of a young woman’s, stylish high-heeled shoes. Hell! He must have dozed off again, despite, or perhaps because of, the cold and the rain! He felt mortified – for no high-heeled, young woman should ever have to wake up a public footslave with the piqued toe of her pointy, red shoe. He should always be ready and willing to serve at the feet and footwear of superior young women, whatever the time of day or night; and whatever the weather!
Mind you, this particular, young woman must be insane to be out and about in such inclement weather as this! Another rumble of thunder reminded him, if he needed reminding, of his drowned rat status in the city-centre alleyway, as he felt yet another raindrop sliding off his nose and down onto the sodden footblock-cum-wooden-pillow beneath his kneeling face.
Fortunately, the raindrop did not sully the angry, young woman’s stylish, red, high-heeled shoe, as she had not yet moved round to face him and position her pretty foot and ankle onto the now vacated footblock. As she did walk round to face him, however – her red high-heels click-clacking seductively across the soaking wet cobblestones of the alleyway – she inadvertently provided him with some shelter, for her black umbrella was now deflecting the rainwater down his bare back and away from the top of his balding, middle-aged head.
He should truly be thankful for such small mercies!
After a few seconds of quiet contemplation, the raven-haired, and presumably insane, young woman duly stretched out her right leg and carefully positioned her right, high-heeled foot onto the damp, wooden footblock beneath his face:
‘Shine it up, slave!’
‘Yes, mistress! At once, mistress!’
It was not a red shoe, on a white foot, that he was familiar with – though the pretty, young woman must surely be local? Why else would she have ventured down this God-forsaken alleyway to have her shoes shined on such an apocalyptically miserable day as this? He even wondered if she may be a newly-arrived working girl; a fallen woman of some sort? But he concluded that she wasn’t; she just didn’t give off the aura of a harlot! She seemed much too angelic!
She was definitely new to his shoelick-stand, however – he never forgot a pretty ankle; especially not one like this, shod in a finest-denier, flesh-toned, nylon stocking; nylon which would be practically invisible to the naked eye were it not for the finest of wrinkles just below the dark-haired girl’s shapely, young-womanly anklebone, caused by the arrogantly-outstretched positioning of her foot onto the footblock. Nice calf muscles as well, he noted, as the hem of her beige-coloured raincoat had ridden revealingly up to just above her equally shapely, nylon-protected kneecap.
But he is getting ideas above his station! He is a public footslave, and right now his only legitimate business is to tongueshine this attractive young woman’s red leather, high-heeled shoe – as she has ordered him to do – starting with the mud-splashed, pointy toe-end; then proceeding along her equally mud-stained instep; and finally reaching her three inch, metal-tipped, red stiletto heel at the back. He must lick the shoe, the whole of the shoe, and nothing but the shoe. Her flesh-toned stocking, sadly, was out of bounds to him – though he could, of course, look at it whilst he licked red ladyshoe!
He did look at it, and he liked the way the sheer, nylon stocking material creased even more as the young woman helpfully twisted her foot around in order to afford his tongue easier access to both the side and back of her stiletto-heeled shoe.
She didn’t say anything whilst he was lapping up her muddy, red shoeleather, and he had no way of gauging what she was thinking, but silence on the part of a customer-mistress is normally a good indicator of a quiet satisfaction on her part with the humble foot-servitude being provided. So he was feeling reasonably relaxed, if still a little butt-sore from his earlier, rude awakening.
After some 5 minutes, and several more frightening flashes of lightning and raucous rattles of thunder overhead, she demonically switched feet beneath him:
‘And the other one, slave!’
He was pleased that the young woman had switched feet, for her left foot not only contained little nylon creases over the ankle, it also contained several tiny, wet patches where the rain had been splashing up against it, making the nylon slightly darker in places – truly a sight for sore, footslave eyes!
Again, the young woman’s, bright red, high-heeled shoe wobbled somewhat on the wooden footblock as she adjusted the angle of her foot to enable his tongue to reach the less accessible areas of mud and grime stuck to the back.
She seemed to sigh almost pleasurably as his tongue reached the back of her spiked heel, and then, suddenly, like another bolt of lightning from out of the heavily-laden skies, came a most unexpected ‘request’ from the young, raven-haired, devil-woman standing above him:
‘I’m feeling really horny now, slave! Would you mind if I penetrated your mouth with my heel?’
Public footslave no. 666 could hardly believe his ears! Did she just say what he thought she had said? Or was he hallucinating? Fantasising? Driven mad by the inclement weather?
It wasn’t so much the young woman’s desire to violate his mouth with her high-heel which shocked him – that was a not too infrequent experience for a down-in-the-dirt, back-alleyway footslave located within the Red Light district! No – it was the fact that she was actually seeking his consent to penetrate him orally! She was offering him – a slave – an element of free will! Ha! Ha! Such a sweet and naive, young woman! For by law, of course, she can do whatever she damn well likes to his maleslave, oral orifice! This is a Gynarchic paradise, after all!
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………..
Lilith was, in actual fact, well aware that she didn’t require the pathetic slave’s consent to mouth-penetrate him! But she wanted to hear him beg for it, just like the men who liked hearing her beg for them to penetrate her! Ha! Ha! Now the tables would be turned – she was the one on top! She was the male; and he was the female! Ha! Ha! This was going to be fun!
The submissive, male slave didn’t disappoint her:
‘Oh pray, pretty mistress! Oh yes please, pretty mistress! Pray penetrate my mouth with your dirty, spiked heel, if it would be so pleasing to you, pretty, raven-haired mistress?’
Ha! Ha! He was, literally, gagging for it! Good!
She laughed at him evilly from beneath her protective umbrella as yet another lightning bolt lit up the thunderous, grey sky above:
‘Ha! Ha! Open wide then, slave!’
The fool duly opened his ugly, slave mouth as wide as it could go, and she masterfully inserted her long, spiked heel into his mouth, pushing it roughly up against the inside of his cheek so that it looked grotesquely and painfully distended from the outside.
…………………………………………………………………………………………………………
Public footslave no. 666 almost retched as the female heel then moved cruelly from the inside of his cheek down towards the top of his throat. He felt the girl scraping her spiked heel against the delicate membrane at the very top of his throat. It may have been consensual penetration, but it wasn’t exactly gentle; just the way Lilith liked it – hard and dirty!
She laughed out loud at his pathetic gagging on her heel, and then jabbed the metal-tipped spike against his vulnerable teeth and gums, before eventually thrusting it back into his inner cheek lining, as she found it made him look so hilariously funny with his cheek all unnaturally stretched and distended beneath her! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! He looked like some sort of ghoulish, mediaeval gargoyle!
This was brilliant! Why hadn’t she thought of this before?
She glanced round to ensure Satan was behind her, and then began rubbing herself beneath her dirty raincoat. Soon – all too soon – she achieved orgasm, at which point she somewhat selfishly withdrew her foot from the slave’s mouth.
But it was too late – for the first time in years the impotent slave was also spent!
‘Ha! Ha! How was it for you, slave?’ Lilith asked coyly as she readjusted her red skirt beneath her raincoat.
‘Oh pray, mistress! Oh thank you, mistress! God bless you mistress! This slave is truly honoured to have taken your shoe in his mouth, and to have provided you with sensual pleasure, most pretty, raven-haired goddess!’
Yes – his mouth was scraped and raw inside. But as the laughing, young, raven-haired woman turned on her glistening, red high-heels to walk jubilantly away from him, he hoped she would be more than just a one-night stand, and that she would come again; and keep on coming over him!
Just like the rain…
