I think some people go to BDSM clubs to expend a lot of energy in search of some sort of fulfillment, whether it's purely sexual, or a mixture of sexual and psychological. I suppose My reasons are the same sometimes, but every now and again, I just go there to relax and watch and enjoy the sights and sounds of suffering. It's times like these where I'll seek out a comfortable couch, or if one isn't available, make a boy become My human furniture for a while. It was with this intention that I went out the other night. Luckily, I found a lovely place to sit and enjoy My drink and the eye candy was quite nice. One of My personal fetishes is for footwear, and I couldn't help but notice how so many "real" girls were wearing cheap and flimsy looking stripper heels undoubtedly made by someone in China. All that gaudy looking patent leather stuff from "Pleaser" and "Demonia" just makes Me cringe. I suppose it's with a little sense of superiority that I stick to designer shoes and boots, even if they cost ten times as much sometimes. When I look down at My heels, I want to see crocodile and python and other exotic animals that were skinned just for Me. I even have a pair from eels. I've maxed out more than one credit card indulging My fetish, but I don't mind. When I'm sitting with My legs crossed and I see the glimmer of light shining from My designer steel heels, it's entirely worth every penny. I have an absolute love for shoes from Gianmarco Lorenzi, and some of My most viciously spiky pairs come from his collection. He has an affinity for steel heels paired with exotic leather, and just slipping them on makes Me feel instantly more Domme. The pointy toes are just craving some balls to kick and they look and feel so great. Instant superiority =) I was enjoying watching all of the activity around Me when a boy crawled to Me and asked if he may approach. I smiled a little inside as I saw him transfixed by My black python knee-boots and gave him permission to come closer by grabbing his collar and pulling him to Me while his eyes came up and met Mine. It was no accident that My crossed leg ended up between his legs and My pointy toe was rubbing up against his balls. I could see the bulge in his leather shorts and it pleased Me to no end. He started to say something but I wasn't interested in anything he had to say so I slapped him, hard, across the face and told him to speak only when spoken to. I should also mention that My love for heels has an oral component to it, so when I ordered him on his back looking up at the ceiling, it was only an instant until My heel was exploring the depths of his mouth while the other was pressed into his chest. I don't think he was used to Gianmarco Lorenzi heels and their sharpness so he squealed a little when I pushed one into his side, but I was having way too much fun to be listening or caring. He lay that way for Me until the end of the evening, and it was so nice being able to relax and take in the sights and sounds of suffering while causing some of My own. Thanks for putting up with My rambling post...I just find Myself wearing those boots from that night and wishing they were sinking into tender male flesh right this second =)

whips and kisses,

Candice