1. The Girl Living on the Floor Above


    Date: 10/5/2015, Categories: Fiction, BDSM, Bondage and restriction, Foot or shoe fetish, Sado-Masochism, Author: Heel778, Rating: 87.5, Source: sexstories.com

    twitch. I came closer, offering my hand to help her up. The palm of her small hand felt like silk, somehow inhumanly soft. Slowly, she got up, putting all her weight on her right leg. Trying to keep her left foot off the floor, she swayed, then grabbed my shoulder for support. I slid my arm around her waist, our eyes meeting for a second. “Can you put weight on your ankle?” I asked. Jessica shook her head, leaned on me and hopped on her good foot. With her left arm around my neck, her body pressed against mine, I felt my emotions surge. She moaned again. We clumsily made our way to the bathroom. She was emitting soft moans all the time. Noises that were driving me crazy, that urged me to do something. She was so helpless, so sweet and tender. I was ashamed that I wanted to have sex with her. She had called me because she needed help. She was suffering badly, and the idiot in me was thinking about sex. “Thank you so much, Sam!”she said, and managed a smile,”I could have never done it without you.” “You’re welcome,” I said shyly. She drew away from me and leaned on the doorjamb. My hands felt oppressively empty without her. As I was musing upon this, she hopped in and closed the door behind her. I helped her back to her bed, this time holding her more tightly. The symphony of moans continued. She seemed to feel comfortable with me, or maybe she wasn’t paying attention to me because of the pain in her ankle. “Thank you,” she said, and pecked me on the cheek before slumping ...
    down on her bed. “Let me see your ankle,” I said. “Nope,” she shook her head, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “Why not?” “I think I know what you want to see.” Her hands slid under the hem of her t-shirt, stayed there for a second, and then pulled it up slowly, revealing a lack of panties and something more. I was impressed with what she had shown me, especially her wet pussy, but at the same time, I felt cheated. All this damsel-in-distress crap was a lie. Her ankle wasn’t injured. She had lied to me, plain and simple. “I have to go,” I said dryly and turned to leave. Her hand shot up and grabbed mine. “Don’t! It is not what it…” she started. “Oh, come on! I am not an idiot,” I cried out, and harshly pulled my hand free. Jessica dropped on the sideboard, nearly falling off the bed. Her left foot hit the floor. The scream that ensued nearly pierced my ear-drums. Her face contorted with pain, and her eyes bulged grotesquely. She was clutching her ankle, trembling all over. Gradually, her scream transformed into sobs. I took a tentative step toward her, then awkwardly kneeled beside her. She slapped me in the face, hard. I blinked, surprised how strong her hand was. “I am so sorry. I thought…” I said guiltily. “Get out! Now!” she hissed. I looked up at her, seeking her eyes. She was staring at her ankle, still clutching it in her hands, whimpering. I reached out and unclasped her trembling fingers. “What are you doing?” she asked confusedly, the anger gone from her voice. “I’m ...
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