1. Cordelia's Feet 8 - The Queen Bee's Pet


    Date: 11/8/2014, Categories: Fetish, Author: ChrissieLecker, Rating: 4, Source: LushStories

    was over. Cordelia started fucking me with her big toe, and my hips rocked with a matching rhythm. I had to engulf Melinda’s pudgy fingers with my lips to tug the last piece of carrot from them with my tongue. They tasted of sweet, honey-scented soap, and she let me struggle a bit until she released it. She came, panting hard, purring. And Cordelia’s toe withdrew, leaving me horny and unfulfilled and full of shame. Melinda dressed again and left with a wink to me and a thank you to Cordelia. “Oh god!” I whimpered when the door had closed behind my colleague. “Why did you let her do that?” “Because,” Cordelia whispered into my ear, having kneeled down next to me, “it embarrasses you. Not just now, but every day at school too. You look so sweet when you’re embarrassed.” Her fingernail travelled up the inside of my thigh. “You want to look sweet for me, don’t you?” “Yes,” I whimpered weakly. “See, and you’ll look even sweeter before the day is over. But it’s time for your surprise now. Stand up.” * * * * The shiny red latex suite was a work of art - a lewd, perverted kind of art, but art nonetheless. It clung tightly to my skin, making me feel completely naked, and in a way, I was. My hands and feet, arms and legs were sheathed in smooth, hot latex, as was my tummy, but the parts covering my breasts, pussy and ass had been conveniently left out. Cordelia had made me wear a pair of incredibly high heels, so high I could barely walk in them. The part of the suit that wrapped ...
    around my hands had no fingers, only some stiff padding on the underside, and I had had to form fists to fit my hands inside. There was some stiff cushioning over the knees as well. But that hadn’t been all. There also was a latex hood that left my face free, adorned with a pair of pointed ears. She had nodded sagely at me at my inquiring gaze, confirming my unspoken question and propelling my thoughts back to the night at Natalie’s gallery and to the kitty-woman I had seen there. A warmth had spread between my legs at the reminder. Then I had been told to bend over, and I had watched from the corner of my eyes as she pulled a long red hose from her sports bag. Only, it was no hose. It ended in a black, slightly pointy rubber cone that widened in the middle, and its meaning became clear. I stood bent over, trembling with embarrassment and arousal while she ran the black cone through my pussy’s folds to coat them in the moisture she found copiously there. Then it pressed against my sphincter, and with a soft but unwavering pressure, she slid the plug of the artificial cat’s tail into my bum. I gasped and whimpered, and I instantly felt bloated. The feeling brought fresh shame to my cheeks. “Stand upright,” she had ordered, and when I had done so, she fixed a shiny red collar around my throat, from which a rubbery leash dangled. She had finished my outfit by painting the tip of my nose black with halloween makeup and gluing plastic whiskers to my nostrils. My eyelids got painted ...
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