I have a secret in my shoe too
PART SEVEN
Story by Joy Cohaan
When Claudia had left the shop Victoria walked over to me, caressed my face with
her nylon covered hands and kissed me. "I never want to loose you, Esther. I
love you."
"Please don't be afraid," I answered. "It's true that I was more than pleased to
meet Lady Miranda with her entire body filled with champagne de nature. And
after today I will always have a special place in my hart for Claudia with her
entire body covered in smelly worn stockings. But darling please be sure I'll
never forget who introduced them to me. You did. You made all this possible. And
it's you I fell in love with. If it were possible I would marry you today, this
minute. You make me the happiest woman in the world. Don't be afraid I'll walk
out on you because some other woman offers me her champagne de nature or smelly
foot aroma."
Victoria kissed me again tenderly and said: "I can give you both."
I answered: "Of course you can and I'll love it, more so, because it's from
you."
"Why don't you tell me," Victoria said, "what's the most important thing you
like me to do to you."
"I want you to love me," I answered. "for the rest of my life."
"That's without question," she answered, "but I want you to tell me your most
important sexual desire."
"You know what that is," I said, "smelly feet. When I masturbate I always think
of the front part of a six inch high heeled opera pump: that part of the shoe
that covers the toes. In my fantasy it's a very old worn shoe. The outline of
the toes are visible on the outside of the shoes. The soft leather is shaped by
toes. The focus of my attention is of course the inside of that little part of
the shoe. The toes are cramped inside the shoe because the shoe is very tight.
Because of that the ball of the foot and the toes are a little bit swollen, very
warm, a little bit reddish and very sweaty. When I masturbate I imagine that
these toes have been wrapped in the same old shoes and the same fully fashioned
seamed black stockings for a very, very long time. Let us say: 2 years. Over the
years the inside of the shoe has collected so much dust, sweat and toe jam that
the toes are completely covered in it. Therefore is it also impossible to remove
the shoe."
"When I masturbate I imagine the owner of these shoes walking in them all day
long on a hot summer day. Only for me she is walking in these shoes for hours on
end because at the end of the day when the inside of her shoe is boiling hot
she'll remove her shoe and smother my face with her dirty and smelly nyloned
foot. This is all much more than just sexual: it's worship, it's religion,
adoration, even idolization. That's why I cried this afternoon with Claudia. I
cried from happiness. So I will worship your smelly nylon toes as a true
believer. In you're presenting your nylon toes to me at the end of a warm summer
day I'll imagine that you have been walking all day just for me. You'd walk all
day to prepare your gift to me. Inside your shoe your gift to me has been
cooking all day. Your gift doesn't just contain toe jam, dust and sweat. It also
contains lots of other body juices. Because your body juice travels down to the
pores of the skin of your toes. Your instep collects everything that your body
wants to get rid of. So you'll be cooking a meal for me with lots and lots of
different ingredients. One of them will be your love for me. Body juice and body
smell tell everything about a person and about the feelings from one person to
another. The sludge inside your shoe will be a sacred gift of love. By the smell
of it I can tell if you love me or not, if you long for me or not."
"There's one big problem though. You did smell my feet the day before yesterday
after they had been in my shoes for six months and you did smell Claudia's feet.
It's an intoxicating aroma. It has to be worshipped and cherished. But the aroma
isn't that good at all if we proceed with what we have been doing these last two
days. If there's a constant stream of piss inside the shoe or a constant stream
of sweat because you're totally covered in rubber night and day it won't do the
aroma much good. The aroma is also spoiled when we keep filling each others
bodies with our feet. Don't think I don't like your feet inside me. I love it.
But I also like to slurp your champagne de nature out of your shoes. I don't
want to miss it. So that's my problem," I said.
Victoria had been listening with love filled eyes. "That indeed is a problem,
but since foot aroma is the most important thing, I think we have to make some
arrangements. From now on I'll never take off my shoes or stockings again day or
night. I'll never wash my feet again. I will select a pair of old leather opera
pumps with seven inch high heels. I'll change the way I dress in order not to
sweat that much: less rubber and more nylon, satin and polyester. I even was
thinking of making my clothes out of smelly worn stockings, like Claudia does.
And I will not fill you up anymore with my feet. I can use my hands. You'll not
miss it at all because you'll be filled with feet enough by the customers who
visit my shop. I want to be your major foot aroma factory day and night. I want
you to worship and adore my smelly nyloned toes. From now on that'll be the most
important objective in my life. Making foot aroma for you will be the only thing
that matters," Victoria concluded.
"I don't want you to give up everything you love," I answered.
"I won't," she said. Tell me," Victoria asked me, "what do you prefer: to smell
my nylon feet or to smell your own nylon feet?
It wasn't at all difficult for me to answer that question. "Of course I prefer
yours," I said.
"Of course," Victoria answered. "And you have been dressing the way you dress
because untill now you didn't have a partner who dressed the way you wanted.
Untill a few days ago you've been your own partner. Loving yourself. Making love
to yourself. And that accounts for me also. That's why I don't mind at all to
change the way I dress. I want to become your partner, fulfill all of your
fantasies. And I hope you'll do the same for me. So from now on I'll dress the
way you want it and if you agree you'll dress the way I want it. In that way
we'll fulfill both of our fantasies."
"But you haven't told me yet all your secret fantasies," I answered.
"Basically," Victoria said, "we're not that much different. You'll remember the
day we met in the shop. The first thing I noticed were your smelly nyloned feet.
We're both into stockings, foot aroma and high heels. But my fantasies are a bit
more extreme than yours. When I masturbate I create an unbelievable woman,
bigger than life. She has the biggest breasts in the world, the smallest waist,
the most piercings, the longest fingernails and she wears the highest high
heels, the heaviest make up and the tightest corset. Her hair is bleached and
she wears it like the biggest candy floss you've ever seen. Her lips are always
red. She always wears, night and day, ballet opera pumps. Her feet are altered
in such a way that ballet shoes are the only shoes she can wear. All the bones
and joints in her feet are fixed by a doctor. She can not bend her toes anymore.
She can never ever in her life wear normal shoes again. She can not even wear a
high heel shoe with a 6 or 7 inch heel, only ballet shoes fit her feet.
Therefore she always needs help. She depends on me entirely. I'm her lifeline.
She's a puppet. I dress her up, play with her, show her around, feed her,
support her. Without me she can't eat, breathe, walk or piss. But I also want
her total commitment. With her around I never ever have to go to the bathroom
anymore. I want her to take care of that. Not because I want it or because I ask
her to do it but because she wants it. She is addicted to me and to everything
my body produces. She is addicted to my champagne de nature. She begs for it.
She waits for it at my side for hours. In the morning she can't wait for me to
awake and to receive her first fresh champagne de nature of the day. Not that
she'll always receive it. I might drink it myself frequently just to tease her.
She's not my slave, because I need her as a partner. I need her companionship,
her conversation, her humor. We behave like normal lovers but at the same time
she is always hungry for me. Hungry for my attention, for my love. She caters to
all my needs. That's her life."
"She wants to please me. And I play with her. I dress her up in very strict
rubber bondage clothes with gas mask included. In it she can't hear anything, or
see anything. Her arms are inside the dress corset and she's standing in the
middle of the room balancing on her opera pump ballet shoes, on tiptoe. She only
knows I'm in the room by smelling my foot aroma. When I leave the room or the
house, she's crying and when I come back in the room her nostrils go up and down
like mad because she smells me again. She's totally trained and conditioned.
Because she can only eat very little because of her tiny waist, she has to eat
little meals seven or eight times a day. I'll prepare her meals in my stomach.
Whenever she's ready to eat or drink something she approaches me with her opened
mouth for me to fill. She never knows with what I fill her mouth. With mucus,
champagne de nature from my stomach, champagne de nature from my bladder or a
meal from my stomach. She never knows what I will throw up, but she appreciates
everything I put in her mouth."
"The erogenous zones in her feet are very well developed. Her feet are stretched
to the limit, because all the bones in her feet are fixed. She's stands on
tiptoe always, because her stockings are as taught as possible hurting her toes.
Because her shoes are always filled with champagne de nature her toes have
become sensitive. I'll use them frequently. I ask her to lie down on her belly
and remove her shoes. Than I'll sit on her feet: one foot in my vagina and one
foot in my ass. I'll be watching television for hours on end just sitting on her
feet. I'll also ask visitors to sit on her feet, tickle her feet, caress her
feet, swallow her feet. In the end she becomes feet, she can only think of feet.
She'll also receive professional acupuncture and acu-pressure on the soles of
her feet and her toes, and extensive foot reflex massage in order to make sure
the erogenous zones in her feet and toes are developed. In the end her toes take
over the function of her clitoris. When I suck her toes she climaxes
immediately. Even walking becomes erotic for her."
"She also has tubes in all of her holes: in her bladder, in her bowel, in her
stomach and in her shoes. These tubes are for everybody clearly to see. They are
not hidden under her clothes. The tubes can be operated by everybody and can be
connected to other peoples tube systems. When she wears her gas mask, and that
will be frequently, her nose is also tubed. The tube of the gas mask can be
connected to my mouth, to my shoes, to my bowel or just hanging above a bowl of
champagne de nature."
"There will be times when she'll be smelling foot aroma or champagne de nature
for days on end. When her gas mask is connected to my gas mask the only thing
she inhales is the air I exhale. The air I exhale will be intoxicated by the
contents of my stomach. When my stomach is full of champagne de nature the air I
give her will be flavored with champagne de nature. I'm her lifeline, remember?
I even control the air she inhales. Her nasal organ and her olfactory nerve will
in the end be conditioned to the smell of champagne de nature and the smell of
nylon foot aroma. My feet will be her incense altar. My foot aroma will be my
incense offering to her. She'll worship it with every nerve in her body. Her
constantly flaring nostrils will always be directed to me, to my dirty nylon
feet and my piss smelling mouth. She wears chains all the time. A gold chain
between her delicate nyloned ankles, a gold chain between the rings in her
nipples, a gold chain between the ring in her ear and the ring in her nose. Her
tongue is pierced. Her inner and outer labia have numerous rings. To a number of
rings unremovable garters are attached. These garters are attached to her
stockings so tightly that they are stretched to the limit."
I had been listening to Victoria's story intensely and I climaxed three times
just standing there thinking of her incredible fantasy. "Of course I'll do it. I
want to be your fantasy woman," I yelled.
"Are you sure?," Victoria asked. "Do you fully understand the implications? You
have to go to the hospital to enlarge your breasts, to remove your lower ribs in
order to get the tiny waist I want, and to fix all the bones in your feet. You
won't be a normal person anymore. You'll always need my support because you'll
faint because of your tiny waist and because you can't walk properly on your
toes. Your size DD breasts are nothing to what I have in mind. I want you to
have the biggest breasts in the world and the tiniest waist. I want the skin of
your breasts stretched to the limit. Like two balloons standing out. Whenever
possible they'll be enlarged again and again. After I'm finished with you I will
enclose your waist with my hands. You'll be a comic book figure and you'll be
totally helpless, totally handicapped. Do you realize all that?"
"I do," I said, "and I want it. I want to be your perfect puppet for the rest of
my life. It won't be all that difficult fo me. Look, I've been standing in these
ballet opera pumps four hours already. I get used to things very quickly. Within
a few weeks I can run in them, I assure you," I said.
Victoria kissed me on my mouth. While french kissing her gullet produced a
mouthful of champagne de nature from her stomach. I swallowed everything.
"Thank you," I said. I kept my mouth open and my eyes closed to receive what
ever Victoria wanted to give me. She spat my in my mouth five times.
"Thank you," I said.
She kissed me again fiercely and said: "I love you." "Now I want you to have a
look in that big chest over there. Over the years customers of mine have changed
there ruined stockings here. I've kept every single one of them in that chest.
It must contain thousands of dirty nylons. I want you to fetch two stockings."
I opened the chest and was almost stupefied by the intoxicating smell of foot
odor. I chose two very dirty nude colored fully fashioned stockings. The feet of
these stockings were dirty as hell: the underside was black from all the dirt
collected in the nylon material. I handed them to Victoria. She took one
stocking in each hand and made a roll of the toes of the stockings. Then she
stuffed a dirty stocking toe in each of my nostrils. She stopped when she
couldn't get any more of the stockings in. "I don't want you to open your
mouth," she said. I had to breathe trough my nose very hard and very frequently
to get some air. The air I succeeded to inhale was filtered by the extremely
dirty stockings.
At that moment the door of the shop was opened and two women walked in. Victoria
introduced them to me. "This is Lisa with her girlfriend Brigitte. Brigitte is a
transvestite. I told you about Lisa. She needs platforms because of her two inch
long toenails." Victoria was going to kiss Lisa on her mouth but stopped when
she saw that Lisa's face under her veil was completely covered in sheer nylon.
"What are you wearing?," Victoria asked.
"Look for yourself," Lisa answered. She took off her coat and showed us her new
outfit: a handmade body suit from head till toe made of sheer 20 denier nylon.
It fitted her like a second skin, no wrinkles at all. Each of her two inch long
toenails was separately covered in nylon complete with reinforcements. Even her
head was covered with nylon. "Because my toenails always ruin normal stockings,"
Lisa said, "I went to this tailor and asked him to make a stocking suit. I said
to him I wanted to feel the nylon everywhere. He took it very literally because
he also covered the inside of my vagina, the inside of my bowel and the inside
of my mouth with the sheerest nylon he could find. Look at my mouth." Both
Victoria and I looked in her mouth: everything was covered with nylon: her
cheeks, her palate and even her tongue. I couldn't resist kissing her on her
nylon mouth. The glass nylon felt hard on my tongue and lips but it felt good.
"I can tell you like nylon," Lisa said after our kiss. "Have a look at Brigitte
too," she said.
Brigitte took off her coat and she also wore a nylon body suit from head to toe.
Her giant penis looked very feminine in the sheerest of nylon. "It really is
because of Brigitte," Lisa said. She's addicted to nylon: to the sound it makes
when rubbing nylon against nylon, to the shine when nylon reflects the lights,
to the smell it develops when it comes in touch with human skin and body juices,
to its softness when it caresses your body, to its hardness when it is scraped
against sensitive parts of your body. She's always playing with nylon stockings.
She has one in the palm of her hand day and night. She feels it, smells it,
caresses it and she just looks at it. When shopping she's always looking for
nylon clothes: nylon panties, gloves, body stockings, nightgowns, slips, bra's,
panty girdles. She takes care that all her clothes have a nylon lining inside.
Even her shoes have a nylon lining. Because she only wears sheer nylon, layer
upon layer upon layer, she can't sit still like a normal person, she's forever
sliding.
End of part 07
