Batwoman meets Catwoman Part One
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One Two Buckle My Shoe free porn video
….one two buckle my shoe….
Bowed and bent, in constant genuflection before women, was not a man's naturalstate.
Having spent so much of the day compressed like a caryatid, his back bentor buckled, so often on his knees as he forced fat feet into shoes which womenwould insist on having a size too small, Steve felt like some kind of PrinceCharming... but with only ugly sisters to attend to.
His back ached through having to bow low over these vain obese women, hislegs were stiff from his obeisance, his knees burned from the rich pile ofthe carpet and his fingers were raw from prising unyielding leather onto swollenfeet.
And then there was the smell, too, of the tan of the leather, of the stinkof the feet, the cocktail of expensive perfumes and the natural aromas whichthe shop's clients would always present. The women were wealthy, the shop wasselect, singly and in small doses their fragrances would no doubt have beensubtle, even enticing, but after six hours of attending to them the aromaticassault had given him a headache.
Two young women came in, browsed, but he could tell immediately by theiraccents, by their manners, that they would buy nothing. None of the shoes werepriced, if a customer had to ask how much then it was inevitable that the costwas much beyond their means, and to save the women time Steve mentioned howmuch they would have to pay for the stilettos they were admiring.
"How much?" said one, aghast.
"Let's go!" said the other, and they were out of the door.
"Silly bitches," Steve muttered, hating himself for haviing to serve thewealthy ones, despising the common ones for thinking he might demean himselfby attending to them. He slipped the catch on the door after them, so he couldnip in the back room for a moment, find something to ease his headache.
He had worked in the shoe shop for four months now, just part time to financehis studies, but already he felt that he was nearing the end of his tether.Pandering to bored women who had too much money in their accounts, too muchtime on their hands, but little else to recommend them was beginning to tryhis patience. His cheeks ached at the end of each day through being so niceto these people, charming them with insincere smiles, ached as much as hisback did, and his knees.
No, this was not a man's natural state.
"I'll be a crippled old fart if I stick this much longer," he told himself,washing down two aspirin with a glass of water. "Give it till the end of term,I think, and then I'm out."
The woman was standing at the door, looking in, when he went back throughto the shop, no sign of impatience or annoyance, standing quite still and serene;with one hand in the pocket of her calf length leather coat, the other hookedaround the strap of her shoulder bag, she seemed more noble a creature thanthe caryatid he had imagined himself to be.
Steve hurried across to open the door, saying, "Sorry, I was just-"
She stepped past him, into the shop, saying nothing, just the hint of asmile on her dark red lips as he closed the door after her. In her wake hecaught her perfume, musky enough to mask all the other fragrances that hadassailed him during the day, started to follow it before remembering himselfand taking up his station at the till.
Do not force yourself onto the customers, that was the first rule whichhad been drummed into him when he started the job. But this one…..oh!How he would love to force himself on her!
She was much his height, a little shy of six foot in the heels she wore,was slim and moved with an easy assured grace. Her rich auburn hair was asglossy as the black leather of her coat, rested in soft curls on her collar,and was echoed in the soft bronze lustre which shadowed her eyes, giving theman intriguing depth.
His eyes following her as she walked slowly around the room, he couldn'ttake them from her, not even when she cast him a sideways glance and what mighthave been a slight frown.
The woman took a shoe down from a shelf and ran her lacquered fingers overit, her nails as dark a red as the shoe itself, then pressed it to her cheekto feel how smooth it was.
"I just love leather," she said, her voice a little husky, as she replacedthe shoe and moved on.
Stopping before some boots, she studied them but this time did not touch,simply tapped a finger against her lips as she considered, then pointed.
"These," she said, turning quickly on her heels and crossing the room tosit on the low settee, one leg crossed over the other.
Steve took the boots down from the shelf and carried them over to her, setthem down beside her and then pulled up his stool.
When he was settled, hunched before her in his customary attitude, the womangave a slight twitch of her foot, offering it to him, the raising of an eyebrowher only request or instruction. Without questioning, without thinking, Stevecupped one hand around her slender ankle, with the other eased her shoe fromher stockinged foot and set it aside.
Inclining her head, permitting herself a wry smile, the woman then noddedtowards the boots. They were almost knee length, soft black leather with hightapering heels, and fastened by six buckles at the side. Steve took one, undideach gleaming buckle, parted the leather to make room for her foot. She madeno move to help him, though, she sat still and impassive, legs still crossed,so he had to reach forward to take her foot in his hand and lift it. And asher leg raised he saw her coat, which had remained buttoned all this while,part a little below the knee, offering a view of her dark silk thighs.
"Yes?" she said, as he hesitated.
"Sorry, madam," he apologised, and proceeded to slide her foot into theboot.
"Madam? Oh I like that!" she said, laughing softly, and with her foot snuginside she planted the boot firmly on the stool between his thighs. "The buckles?" sheasked. "Please?"
Beginning with the lowest, working his way up, Steve started to fasten eachbuckle. With her leg bent, her knee raised, he could see further beneath hercoat, see where the stockings ended, the pale white flesh of her upper thighs,the bare groin.
The woman was naked beneath the leather coat, he realised.
"You aren't paying attention," she chided him, disturbing his reverie. "Thatone is slack."
Steve quickly lowered his eyes, attended to the buckle, tightening it, andthen the last remaining one. Satisfied that the boot was comfortable, the womanuncrossed her legs, then crossed them again, raising her other foot to him.
Again Steve went through the process, which was now taking on somethingof the aspect of a ritual, almost reverently removing her shoe, gently holdingher foot, slowly slipping it into the boot. He kept his eyes fixed on his taskthis time, carefully fastening each of the six buckles, and would not havebeen aware of the woman smiling down at him, though perhaps conscious thatthere was something slightly mocking about her silence.
"There we are Madam," he said, giving a gentle tug on the last buckle.
"Yes, here we are," she echoed, moving her foot from the stool to the floor,then offering him her hand so that he might help her rise from the settee.
Fingertips loosely holding fingertips, Steve gave her his support as shegot to her feet and stood before him, above him. She did not release his fingers,though, but held on to them still, her thumb rubbing back and forth acrosshis knuckles.
"They suit me, yes?" she asked of the boots, rocking a little to test theircomfort.
"They do indeed, Madam," Steve replied.
"And they excite you, yes?"
Taken aback by the question, Steve said, "Madam?"
She laughed aloud and let his hand fall, walked across the shop and thenback, the high heels only adding to her feline grace, her sensual elegance.
Resting her hand on his shoulder as she sat again, she said, "Yes, thesewill do fine. You may remove them."
It seemed that her knee was raised even higher this time, or perhaps shewas slumped a little lower in the settee, for the view beneath her coat leftnothing to the imagination, there was no mistaking the fact that she was nakedbeneath it.
"And my shoes please?" she said, when he had removed the boots and seemedat a loss for what to do next.
"Of course, sorry Madam," said Steve, taking each foot in his hands andreplacing her shoes.
"You lingered a little then, you know," she remarked, leaning towards him,resting her elbows on her knees.
"Madam?"
"When you took my foot in your hand," the woman explained. "You lingeredover it. Did you enjoy the feel of it?"
"Oh! Sorry!" he blushed.
"You say sorry so sweetly," she smiled, raising a foot, not to rest on hisstool, this time, but to place between his thighs, the sole resting flat againsthis groin. Rummaging in her bag, she removed a small notebook and began towrite, leaning further forward still as she did so, applying some pressureto the cock which she had known would be erect. Tearing out a page, bringingher face close to his, she said, "You will deliver the boots to me, this evening,at this address."
….three four knock at the door….
When she answered the door the woman was wearing a tight sleeveless waistcoatof black suede, a short black skirt of similar material and the same shoesas before. Her hair had been pinned up, her makeup had been freshened and shewas striking enough to take Steve's breath away.
Dumbly he offered her the box which contained her boots, but she shook herhead as she turned her back to him, beckoned with a finger.
He closed the door behind him and followed her into the house, along thehall and into a sitting room. As he entered she was already lowering herselfinto an easy chair, her legs crossing to echo the posture she had adopted inthe shop, the one which silently demanded his service. Crossing the room, heset the box on a table beside her, lifted the lid and started to take the bootsfrom their wrapping of tissue paper.
"Not just yet, dear," the woman told him, and pointing to the floor at herfeet, said, "Though you may adopt the position."
Regarding her curiously, Steve knelt on the carpet before her, saw one footlift towards him and guessed that he was to remove the shoe. And then the other.Her legs were bare, she wore no stockings, and she rested one foot on his thigh,reached out to take a bottle of nail varnish from the table, shook it vigorouslyand then handed it to him.
"Madam?" asked Steve, looking at the bottle as if ignorant of what it contained.
"Paint the bloody toes, dear! I want to be pampered! And you-" she added,leaning forward, touching those fingers tipped with dark red nails to his cheek. "-youwant to be the one to pamper me. Don't you, dear?"
Her musky fragrance was beguiling, her breath on his face so sweet, thesoft purr of her voice too seductive to refuse. Slowly he unscrewed the topof the bottle, drew out the brush it held.
"Just the nails now," she cautioned him. "I want crisp clean edges, no smudging."
Steve took her bare foot in his hand, curled his fingers around her ankleto hold it steady on his thigh, with his free hand dipped the brush into thevarnish and began to paint her toes.
There was something sensual about the soft stroke of the brush, the darkvelvet sheen reminded him of her lips, the warmth of her foot on his thighmade him conscious of her body and the ways he could love it. He had a steadyhand, he was studying to be an artist, but for the moment this woman was moreexciting than any nude he had ever confronted, though only her feet and legswere bare there was more sensuality about her than any of Modigliani's paintings.As he made each stroke he had to catch his breath to still his pounding heart.
He never took his eyes from the task in hand, but he could feel her eyesburning into the top of his head, he knew they were smiling and that made hisheart beat even faster.
His hand trembled, slipped from the nail to the soft white flesh.
"Tsk! I warned you!" the woman scolded him. "Clean it!"
Hurriedly Steve wiped the toe, painted the nail afresh. Then he took hisfingers from her ankle, ran them along her instep to tell her he had finished.
When she lifted her foot this time, though, it was to place it on his groin.With gentle pressure on his cock, she said, "It seems to me that you are gettinguncommonly warm down there, dear. Stand and remove your trousers, your shirt.I will have you in your shorts."
"Yes Madam," he said, as if there was nothing out of the ordinary abouther request, standing and stripping down to his boxers, then resuming his position.
The painted foot returned to his groin, her other foot placed on his barethigh, she said "Mm. Silk boxers. They excite you, perhaps. Then maybe I willhave you in a pair of my silk knickers later."
With a cough to clear the throat, to mask any excitement or embarrassment,Steve began to paint the second foot. Each nail was covered with just a strokeor two of the brush, a perfect finish, the colour was rich and the sheen wasflawless. They looked as perfect as blood red pearls and he felt a barely suppressedcompulsion to kiss them.
The foot shifted in his lap a little, the toes curling as if to dry morequickly, and their soft pads drummed a gentle tattoo against Steve's cock.He looked up a moment, to ask her to be still a little while longer, and shegrinned back at him.
Then he had finished, he set the brush and varnish aside and took her footin both his hands, ran his thumbs around her ankle and then towards the toes.They were still a little too tacky to touch so he bent down, brought his faceinches from her foot and blew lightly, the soft breath drying them and caressingthem as gently as his fingers itched to do.
While the last nail dried he ran his fingers up her legs, beneath her thighs,towards her skirt. The skirt was soft, her skin was satin, and the one slippedsmoothly over the other to give a glimpse of her naked groin. He wanted tobury his face there, but for the moment returned to her foot.
He lifted it from his thigh, kissed the sole and felt her flinch, then kissedthe underside of each toe. He held it to his cheek for a moment, before placinghis lips against each polished nail in turn, the softest of kisses and thenmore kisses between them.
He held her foot as if to worship it, and her response was to work her otherfoot more firmly between his thighs, inside his shorts, the sole rubbing againsthis cock, toes caressing it, nails scratching it harshly.
"Madam," Steve gasped, his breathing low, shallow. "If you continue withthat…"
"Yes dear?"
"Continue with that and you will make me come!"
….five six pick up sticks….
"Then enough!" the woman laughed, removing her feet, planting them on thefloor before him. "I will have my boots now!"
Steve reached out to pull the box from the table to the floor, took outthe first boot and unbuckled it. As he was about to slip it onto the woman'sfoot, though, she raised her hand to stop him.
"I think we will have a touch more reverence, now that we have the privacyfor it. You will kiss first my foot and then my boot."
As reverently as she demanded, Steve lowered his face to her foot, kissedit softly, then kissed the polished toe of the boot before slipping it ontoher foot.
"And each buckle as you fasten it," she added, and he did as she told him,tasted the the sharp tang of silver on his lips as he touched them to each,moving up her legs until his cheek rested against her bare knee.
He repeated the same process with the other boot, again finished with hischeek against her knee. Now she rested her hand on his head, ran her fingersthrough his hair, stroked them along his cheek.
"You are a sweet submissive thing," she said, raising his head to favourhim with a smile, but before he could respond to it her gaze darkened. "Butsweet as you are you still made a mess of my pedicure."
"Madam, I-"
"Madam will hear no protests!" she said, pressing her hand to his mouthto silence him, then pointed towards the hall. "By the door is a large terracottapot. It holds walking sticks, umbrellas and some especially swishy canes. Gobring some of those to me."
"Yes Madam," said Steve glumly, and started to rise to one knee.
"Oh no! Don't stand!" she said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. "On allfours, dear. Like Madam's little golden retriever."
On hands and knees Steve moved away from her, and she grinned to see theway his arse twitched from side to side. Quite a nice arse it was, too. Shewould enjoy caning it, maybe later ravishing it.
"Quickly dear! Here boy!" she cried, clicking her fingers, calling as shewould for any other pet. "Fetch! There's a good boy!"
He soon reappeared at the door, still on all fours, the canes clasped inone hand.
"Oh no dear! That's not how we fetch!" he was told. "In the mouth, boy!In the mouth!"
Obediently Steve clamped the canes between his teeth, then continued towardsher. She reached down and took the canes from him, patted him on the head.
"Good boy!" she said, and then stood, gesturing that he should do the same,took him by the hand as he got to his feet and pulled him into the centre ofthe room. "Now bend, dear, clasp your toes."
Slowly he did as she said, reaching down so that the silk of his shortsstretched over his buttocks.
"With or without?" his tormentor wondered aloud, running her hand lightlyover his arse, then decided, "With, I think. Madam will show some leniencythis time." Then she slapped him hard with the flat of her hand. "You may thankme!"
"Thank you Madam!" Steve gasped, shaken by the blow.
"Better!" she said. "You will learn to be responsive!"
Steve was aware of her pacing behind him, her boots silent on the carpetbut her perfume wafting at him from the left, from the right, betraying herpresence. The he heard the swish of a cane cutting through the air and hiswhole body tensed, he gripped his toes tightly and shut his eyes to the painwhich was sure to come.
No blow landed, though, and the teasing woman laughed wickedly.
"Ah! The anticipation! It is a delightful thing!" she said, cutting throughthe empty air a second time, a third.
The fourth stroke caught him cruelly across the fattest part of his buttocksand made him yelp like a puppy, made him rock forward on the balls of his feet.
"That is for making a mess of my pedicure," she told him. "Are you contrite,boy?"
"I am, Madam!" he cried, and then yelped louder still as another blow struck.
"You are?" she asked doubtfully, the next blow landing across the top ofhis thighs. "I think not, boy, for if you were truly contrite you would bethanking Madam for your punishment!
"Thank you for my punishment, Madam," he said, through gritted teeth.
"And again!" she demanded, landing another blow.
"Thank you!"
"And again!"
"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" Steve sobbed, and his buttocks were afirenow, he could not differentiate the blows but just felt the constant stingingpain.
He was not even conscious of the blows ceasing, so searing was the sensationin his buttocks, until he felt her hands rest lightly on his hips. They pulledgently at him, tugged him back, and he realised that she must have lifted herskirt, for he felt his smarting buttocks drawn into her naked groin, her coolflesh soothing and drawing the fire from them.
Her hands slipped around his waist, beneath him, delved into his shortsto take out his cock. Arching over him, her breasts pressing against his back,she began to slowly stroke him.
"And now, my dear, are you ready to serve Madam as well as attend to her?"
"Yes Madam," he answered.
"Then you will get hard for me, pet, very hard," she insisted,the one hand pulling him erect, stretching out his cock with every stroke,while her other hand slipped down the back of his shorts to clutch his balls. "Areyou hard for Madam? Are you rigid and aching for Madam?"
"Oh yes!" he gasped, and when she felt a shudder of delight runthrough his body she squeezed his balls a little tighter.
"Do not sigh like that as if this is for your pleasure," she cautionedhim. "It is not. Everything is for my pleasure and my pleasure only. Understand?
It was only when he nodded that she slackened her grip, slipped her handsfrom his balls, released his cock and walked around to face him.
"Now let's see," she said, putting just the tip of a finger underhis erection to study it. "Yes, quite hard enough now I think," shedecided, and raised her hands to her hair.
Steve looked down to see her remove some clips, so that her hair tumbledabout her cheeks and shoulders, and then unwind a narrow black velvet ribbonwhich had also fastenened it, stretch it tight between her hands like a garotte.
"To make sure you stay hard for me," she explained, grinning upat him. "And in future you do not look att me until I tell you to."
"Sorry Madam!" he said, lifting his eyes to look ahead, and felther wind the ribbon around his balls and the base of his cock, cross the twoends over to make a knot and begin to pull it tight.
"There, that should make sure you don't come too quickly," shesaid, when she had his balls so swollen that they felt they might burst, andstood once more, removed her short skirt, rubbing the soft suede against hischeek before tossing it aside.
Then she pressed against him, one leg raised to curl as she went up on thetiptoes of the other foot and he was in her more easily than he had enteredany woman, slipping smoothly between the soft slick lips of her cunt.
She shuffled her body, made her groin a more comfortable fit against his,then draped her arms around his shoulders and lifted her other leg.
Steve's body buckled a little under her weight, taken by surprise, and shefrowned at him, said, "Stiff back and stiff cock, dear. Do not disappointme."
And as much as this was a challenge to his stupid male pride it was alsoa duty he had to fulfil, for as she moved up and down on his cock, and askedwhose pleasure they had to consider, he replied quite simply, "Yours,Madam. Only yours."
Steve still worked in the shoe shop, but no longer minded it quite so much.He had a new boss now, Madam, and new responsibilities. No longer did he haveto fawn over the vain and the obese, Madam would stock nothing to accommodatethem; instead it was her friends he served, and the friends of those friends,the shop's clientele even more select than before.
The tiny bell above the door tinkled, and even before it swung shut Stevewas on his knees, head bowed, ready to kiss the shiny stilettos when they stoppedin front of him.
"Good morning, Ma'am. How may I serve you?"
Fawn
- 25.01.2023
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