The Training of the Pretty Girl, Day One

I size up this girl on day one: she wants to feel pretty. The plan runs four days. Today, heels. Tomorrow, lipstick. Day three, corset. Day four, a leather collar. Four steps to basic slave polish. I put her in plain black patent leather heels, sharp toe, no platform. I picture the way she’ll teeter in them, a pretty little slut on tall stems. I yank the zipper down tooth by tooth and watch the sting bloom across her skin. She gives it up fast, every hiss of pain another bead of surrender. Next I make her stand tall, calves flexed, until the burn cuts deep and the lines rise like tight ropes under her flesh. She learns to love what a good pair of legs can do. I tie her open, knees spread, cunt and ass on display. I look her over, inside and out, and she stays quiet while I poke, probe, and weigh the goods. I finish with a string of orgasms, one hard on the heels of another, until her thighs shake and she drips onto the floor. Only then do I slide the heels onto her feet and send her strutting around the room to show off what she’s earned. I like the way her ass works in those shoes. She’ll wear them for the next three days.