Page 114 of Whirlwind

Angel gave an appreciative hum. She loosened her grip on Nina’s hair, and then stroked through it. Nina leaned into her hand.

“You’re lucky that no one down the hall heard you, the way you were screaming,” Angel chided.

So they were still doing the role play. “I’m sorry,” Nina said again. She knew no one could really hear her, but that gut-churning fear of being caught added to the excitement. She knew she hadn’t done a good job of keeping quiet, that was always part of the game, too. Angel would tell her to be quiet, then pinch and slap and tease her until she was helpless to suppress the whimpers and moans.

“Maybe you need something in your mouth to keep you quiet.”

Nina nodded. She didn’t want to assume anything, but Angel had mentioned her cock earlier, and the idea made her mouth water.

“On your knees, baby.”

Nina slid down without another word. Her floor was carpeted, but she knew that her knees would hurt in a few minutes and probably ache by the time she stood up. Her ass already burned where it rested against her heels, reminding her constantly of how Angel had punished her and taken care of her. This was exactly where she wanted to be.

She bent her head down demurely and… damn. Those shoes. They were shiny black leather with big gold rings that brought all sorts of kinky images to mind. And Nina always lost it for straps that rested just above the ankle. At the rounded tip, they gave just a tantalizing peek of Angel’s first three toes.

She glanced up, just a bit, wanting to get the whole picture of those long, smooth legs and the slinky skirt that fell between them. Her eyes were drawn back down, though.

Would it be too much to lean down and kiss her toes? They hadn’t done anything like that before. She had—maybe—known how sexy she found feet back then but she would never have acted on it. And tonight, she didn’t want to ask for anything more.

Having Angel back, the role play, the spanking… It was already better than anything she could have dreamed. She loved how Angel had stepped in and directed the scene, and she didn’t want to disrupt any of it.

But maybe if she could have just one little taste…

“May I?” she asked. She’d kissed Angel’s feet once before, but it had been a confusing jumble of embarrassment and a need to obey that she didn’t yet understand.

Her perspective had changed now. But Angel’s might have, too. A lot of transwomen were sensitive about their foot size.

“Go ahead.” Angel waved magnanimously.

Nina clasped her hands behind her back and bent low. She pressed her lips quickly over the arch of one foot, breathing in the smells of leather and lotion and a touch of lean sweat. She let herself linger just a moment longer over the toes of the other, suppressing a moan.

She looked up, hoping that she hadn’t overstepped. Angel’s eyes blazed, promising dark, wonderful things.

“You like kneeling for me, don’t you.” It wasn’t so much a question as a reminder of what they were doing and why she had chosen it.

“I love it,” Nina breathed. She met Angel’s eyes, wanted to communicate her consent and desire in every possible way. She looked down again quickly, not sure if eye contact was what Angel wanted. And fuck, those shoes again, right in front of her. With her eyes cast down, she could look her fill.

Angel lifted one foot and set it on Nina’s thigh. The sharp edge of the thick heel cut into Nina’s skin, just below the edge of her skirt. She drew in a sharp breath and looked up again. Did Angel know what she was doing to her?

“Hmmm…” Angel made a sound of amused curiosity. She grabbed Nina’s chin, preventing her from looking away. Angel seemed to be studying her, almost clinically. This was a look that Nina remembered well, like Angel was trying to take her apart and figure out how she worked. It sent a shivery feeling down her spine. Angel pressed a little harder with her heel, almost like she was doing an experiment.

Nina whimpered. There was something glorious in the debasement, of being even lower than Angel’s feet. And that flash of pain where the heel dug into her skin sent sparks racing through her body. Nina wondered if she should just say something. Even as a submissive, she was an adult and could just ask for what she wanted.

Before she could form the words, though, Angel’s toes drifted down her thigh and nudged up under her skirt. Their eyes were locked together, so that Angel could measure every response. Nina panted, feeling shivery as Angel’s dangerous, dirty shoe slid toward her hidden, tender places. She wanted to be corrupted in the worst possible way.

“Is it the shoes or my feet?” Angel asked, still gripping her chin.

“Both,” she admitted. “But, um, I won’t focus on them if it bothers you.” There was a good chance it would, either because of gender dysphoria or a more simple aversion to thinking of feet sexually. She didn’t want to get her hopes up.

Angel nudged up a little higher and Nina spread her knees to allow it. Another inch and she’d touch her panties.

“Explain.”

Nina knew she was blushing. What must she look like, kneeling on the floor, breasts exposed with Angel’s foot nudging up under her skirt? Embarrassment and desire twisted in her gut. And now she was supposed to explain it. “I…” She took a deep shuddering breath as the hard sole ghosted across her clit. If Angel kept doing that, she wouldn’t be able to think.

Angel drew back, her gaze stern. The words came tumbling out. “I have a foot fetish. And, um, some shoes enhance it. So when they’re both together, it’s, um, really good. Mostly the feet, but, uh, your heels...” That was as far she could get.

Angel’s eyes sparkled like a midnight sky. She released Nina’s chin, but commanded her to keep looking at her.