She held the heel with one hand, while the fingers of her other hand softly trailed the contours of the shoe. ‘A perfect fit,’ she remarked, ‘as...if they were made for this pair of feet.’ At first I thought I was imagining it. But when her fingertips didn’t let up their stroking, only now touching my skin, tickling my instep, softly rubbing up and down my toes, I felt goose bumps race up my back. She looked up at me. I was aware of the way my chest heaved and my face was flushed. She smiled.. She wanted shut her eyes, turn her head, close out the awful evidence of what had happened. Even with her inexperience, she knew that this meant arousal, that her sex was finding pleasure in things that had been done to her, the humiliation she had suffered. Even as that word pierced her brain like a dagger, she saw her inner labia undulate lightly, unfold a little further before retreating back a bit into itself. It was as if her body was acknowledging it all, everything they had done to her,. More

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