Ste Letto
04-29-2004, 1:31 AM
Thanks to Ogilthorpe and Asphodel for commenting last time, much appreciated guys!
Gotta split this one in two, too long otherwise
Extract Part 17
Kirsty strolled around the room, enjoying the destructive, dominant, abusive play of her friends' feet on the helpless men. She wandered back to where the four men were laid in a row so that their upturned faces formed a catwalk for any girl who chose to walk upon them. She gasped when she saw the state of them now. Each man's face was ripped and torn from the multiple spiked heels that had moved across them. Each man's eyes were black, swollen, puffed shut like a boxer who has taken far too much punishment under hard soles, solid heels or bare. Each man's lips were the same. They were torn through in places where casually placed heels had ripped them easily. Each man's nose was a nose no longer. Cartilage had surrendered to sexy smooth shoe soles, skin had torn and flattened. Nothing identifiable as a nose now remained. Kirsty noted the way that the men's blood had dried on their foreheads, faces and necks. Some had run down to pool in the base of the recess into which they had been placed. A delighted and highly aroused Kirsty couldn't even begin to imagine the pain the men had endured.
She stood and looked down at the first man in the row, and wondered if he were still alive or not. She reached out with her booted right foot and lightly kicked the first man's head. No response. She tried again, kicking a little more firmly. Still no response. Of course, it would be difficult to get a response given the state the men were in before things started this evening and the state they were in now. She squatted down and pondered how to know if the men were still alive. "Look at their lips" someone said. Kirsty looked up, "You're trying to decide if they're dead or not aren't you?" Kirsty nodded. "Look at their lips," the girl said again. Kirsty did, and saw the tiniest flicker of movement. She moved around the men until she had checked every man. "They're all still alive," she said sounding genuinely amazed. "That's right," said the newcomer, "but they sure wish they weren't."
The newcomer was Katy Milan, a slim girl, 5ft 5, with black hair in a bob and milk white skin. She wore a white denim jacket, black skintight leggings, black socks and black soccer boot style leather shoes. The shoes were tightly laced to her feet, and they had wedge shaped ridges underneath to give her a grip on the floor. "Watch this!" Katy told her friend. She moved to stand on the floor level just behind the abdomen of the first man. His thick cock was long, but not erect, it lay flat on his stomach pointing neatly toward his face. As all the before girls had concentrated on walking over the men's faces, his cock, like the others in his sorry group, was untouched. Katy stepped firmly onto the man's limp penis. Her heel landed at the base, her toes some two inches from the head. The sorry specimen flattened beneath the girl's hard plastic soles. The soles of her shoe were like a row of knife edges biting into his salami like knob. The sharp edged ridges bit in and down, making the skin white under the pressure. The tortured cock sunk some way into its owners belly, but only some way. He fought to resist his tormentor, tensing his stomach muscles automatically and consequently pushing his cock harder against her cruel shoe sole. His cock ballooned alarmingly. Fresh waves of reviving pain ran through the man's body, bringing him to a level of consciousness he would rather not have.
Incredibly, he breathed through the shattered remnants of his nose, causing a thin flap of skin to oscillate slightly. "Excellent," said Katy, "I was hoping he could do that. I need them to be able to just catch the tiniest breath, and that was perfect." Kirsty watched in puzzlement as Katy moved from man to man. With each one she stepped onto his cock and balanced there, wiggling her hips slightly, but really doing nothing more than crushing his cock until he tried to draw breath. She seemed delighted to find that each could just barely breathe through his nose.
Kirsty was fascinated to see what the girl was doing. Katy went away, and came back with a wooden chair, and a bottle of water. Then she fetched four funnels. She placed one funnel into each man's mouth, wedging them in firmly, rattling them to make sure they would not fall over. She handed Kirsty the bottle of water and then stood with her back to the first man, her right shoe cocked backwards so that the sole was at an angle above and behind his head, toes closest to the opening of the funnel. Turning her head sideways she said to Kirsty "Pour some water on my sole please, so it runs down it and into the funnel." Kirsty giggled, so that was her plan, "Sure" she said smiling.
She squatted down, unscrewed the lid on the bottle and moved her hand across to pour the water on. She noticed dirt, dust, small pebbles and what looked like mud on the slightly scuffed shoe sole. She used her left hand to steady Katy's foot from the ankle and poured some water on. It cascaded pleasingly over the shoe sole and then ran neatly into the man's funnel. Kirsty let if half fill the funnel before she stopped pouring. The water was discoloured by the muck on the bottom of Katy's shoe, looking sort of black/sort of brown. The man made a very strange noise, and a bubble of air broke the surface of the liquid in the funnel. He snorted through his nose, and some of the filthy water flowed down and in. The man coughed and hiccupped strangely. He swallowed some more of the disgusting mixture. Katy put her foot down, turned round and watched, beaming as the man drank the obscene drink.
She moved to the next man, and cocked her left shoe back, the one that hadn't been cleaned yet. Once again, Kirsty was given the wicked task of sluicing this girl's shoe sole with water that would ultimately run down into her victim's mouth. He coughed and gurgled, forced to swallow the foul tasting and badly discoloured liquid. Katy glanced at him, smiled at his discomfort and moved on.
The next man was given a different treat. Katy hovered her sole over the man's face and encouraged Kirsty to pour water over the upper part of her shoe. She angled her foot prettily so the toes were inside the rim of the man's funnel, the heel of her foot raised up and behind. Kirsty trickled water over the top of this girl's grubby, battered shoe. The water ran over and down, all of it dribbling eventually into the funnel inserted into the man's mouth. Soon there was a good level there and the girls moved on. The last guy in the row was treated to the water run off from the top of Katy's other shoe.
Gotta split this one in two, too long otherwise
Extract Part 17
Kirsty strolled around the room, enjoying the destructive, dominant, abusive play of her friends' feet on the helpless men. She wandered back to where the four men were laid in a row so that their upturned faces formed a catwalk for any girl who chose to walk upon them. She gasped when she saw the state of them now. Each man's face was ripped and torn from the multiple spiked heels that had moved across them. Each man's eyes were black, swollen, puffed shut like a boxer who has taken far too much punishment under hard soles, solid heels or bare. Each man's lips were the same. They were torn through in places where casually placed heels had ripped them easily. Each man's nose was a nose no longer. Cartilage had surrendered to sexy smooth shoe soles, skin had torn and flattened. Nothing identifiable as a nose now remained. Kirsty noted the way that the men's blood had dried on their foreheads, faces and necks. Some had run down to pool in the base of the recess into which they had been placed. A delighted and highly aroused Kirsty couldn't even begin to imagine the pain the men had endured.
She stood and looked down at the first man in the row, and wondered if he were still alive or not. She reached out with her booted right foot and lightly kicked the first man's head. No response. She tried again, kicking a little more firmly. Still no response. Of course, it would be difficult to get a response given the state the men were in before things started this evening and the state they were in now. She squatted down and pondered how to know if the men were still alive. "Look at their lips" someone said. Kirsty looked up, "You're trying to decide if they're dead or not aren't you?" Kirsty nodded. "Look at their lips," the girl said again. Kirsty did, and saw the tiniest flicker of movement. She moved around the men until she had checked every man. "They're all still alive," she said sounding genuinely amazed. "That's right," said the newcomer, "but they sure wish they weren't."
The newcomer was Katy Milan, a slim girl, 5ft 5, with black hair in a bob and milk white skin. She wore a white denim jacket, black skintight leggings, black socks and black soccer boot style leather shoes. The shoes were tightly laced to her feet, and they had wedge shaped ridges underneath to give her a grip on the floor. "Watch this!" Katy told her friend. She moved to stand on the floor level just behind the abdomen of the first man. His thick cock was long, but not erect, it lay flat on his stomach pointing neatly toward his face. As all the before girls had concentrated on walking over the men's faces, his cock, like the others in his sorry group, was untouched. Katy stepped firmly onto the man's limp penis. Her heel landed at the base, her toes some two inches from the head. The sorry specimen flattened beneath the girl's hard plastic soles. The soles of her shoe were like a row of knife edges biting into his salami like knob. The sharp edged ridges bit in and down, making the skin white under the pressure. The tortured cock sunk some way into its owners belly, but only some way. He fought to resist his tormentor, tensing his stomach muscles automatically and consequently pushing his cock harder against her cruel shoe sole. His cock ballooned alarmingly. Fresh waves of reviving pain ran through the man's body, bringing him to a level of consciousness he would rather not have.
Incredibly, he breathed through the shattered remnants of his nose, causing a thin flap of skin to oscillate slightly. "Excellent," said Katy, "I was hoping he could do that. I need them to be able to just catch the tiniest breath, and that was perfect." Kirsty watched in puzzlement as Katy moved from man to man. With each one she stepped onto his cock and balanced there, wiggling her hips slightly, but really doing nothing more than crushing his cock until he tried to draw breath. She seemed delighted to find that each could just barely breathe through his nose.
Kirsty was fascinated to see what the girl was doing. Katy went away, and came back with a wooden chair, and a bottle of water. Then she fetched four funnels. She placed one funnel into each man's mouth, wedging them in firmly, rattling them to make sure they would not fall over. She handed Kirsty the bottle of water and then stood with her back to the first man, her right shoe cocked backwards so that the sole was at an angle above and behind his head, toes closest to the opening of the funnel. Turning her head sideways she said to Kirsty "Pour some water on my sole please, so it runs down it and into the funnel." Kirsty giggled, so that was her plan, "Sure" she said smiling.
She squatted down, unscrewed the lid on the bottle and moved her hand across to pour the water on. She noticed dirt, dust, small pebbles and what looked like mud on the slightly scuffed shoe sole. She used her left hand to steady Katy's foot from the ankle and poured some water on. It cascaded pleasingly over the shoe sole and then ran neatly into the man's funnel. Kirsty let if half fill the funnel before she stopped pouring. The water was discoloured by the muck on the bottom of Katy's shoe, looking sort of black/sort of brown. The man made a very strange noise, and a bubble of air broke the surface of the liquid in the funnel. He snorted through his nose, and some of the filthy water flowed down and in. The man coughed and hiccupped strangely. He swallowed some more of the disgusting mixture. Katy put her foot down, turned round and watched, beaming as the man drank the obscene drink.
She moved to the next man, and cocked her left shoe back, the one that hadn't been cleaned yet. Once again, Kirsty was given the wicked task of sluicing this girl's shoe sole with water that would ultimately run down into her victim's mouth. He coughed and gurgled, forced to swallow the foul tasting and badly discoloured liquid. Katy glanced at him, smiled at his discomfort and moved on.
The next man was given a different treat. Katy hovered her sole over the man's face and encouraged Kirsty to pour water over the upper part of her shoe. She angled her foot prettily so the toes were inside the rim of the man's funnel, the heel of her foot raised up and behind. Kirsty trickled water over the top of this girl's grubby, battered shoe. The water ran over and down, all of it dribbling eventually into the funnel inserted into the man's mouth. Soon there was a good level there and the girls moved on. The last guy in the row was treated to the water run off from the top of Katy's other shoe.