Izanami Ch. 01


My knees were starting to throb along with my wrists, but I was only faintly aware of that fact. The hard wooden floor was unforgiving beneath me, and it had been days since I’d had any significant amount of sleep or food, but my pains and problems were the furthest thing from my mind.

Her toes brushed my cheek and I trembled, a wave of giddy warmth rushing through my body. I knew better than to let my eyes lift to look upon her, but I could tell she had just come from her bath. The familiar fragrance from beneath her toes mingled with the faintest floral scents, and her skin was still exceptionally warm.

I could hear the faint tapping of her fingertips on glass while her toes continued to explore the contours of my face, slowly growing just a bit more aggressive and forceful as they moved across my nose and lips. I imagined she must have been working through something on her tablet, and my suspicions were confirmed when her toes settled against my forehead and her leg stretched out, the full length of her foot pushing firmly into my face and forcing my head back at an awkward angle. My eyes widened with the surprise of her sudden movement and I couldn’t avoid catching a glimpse of her, her exquisite figure barely obscured by a scandalously short satin dressing gown, long silver hair already styled, framing her face with the rest twisted up into a high ponytail, held in place by a single crimson chopstick.

Her intense eyes remained downcast as her fingers danced across a glowing screen, and I quickly shut my own in hopes she wouldn’t notice that I’d looked upon her without permission. Besides, her warm, powerful, precious foot covered my entire face and I was more than happy to completely focus on that. Every bit of my instinct and desire pushed me to cover her sole in sensual, submissive kisses and to lap at her lovely heel, but I forced myself to resist. If she wanted to be worshipped, she’d have made her expectations clear.

We suspected that having a girl beneath her feet helped Miss Izanami to relax or somehow helped her think. Either way, she was accustomed to having one, and today I was lucky enough to have my turn. Her foot began to slide forward, her smooth sole rubbing firmly across my forehead and nose and her toes slipping through my hair, and then I heard her shifting just the faintest bit in her seat an instant before I felt the full force of her superior, slender leg pushing her foot down on my skull.

My neck was already at a difficult angle, but my body instinctively resisted for a moment. I gasped and panicked for an instant, thinking something might snap before my already tired arms gave way and I crumbled beneath her foot, ending up awkwardly sprawled on my belly with my head twisted to the side and firmly pinned beneath her heel.

I lay there struggling to collect myself, my breath coming in swift, shallow bursts until I’d settled down somewhat. I didn’t expect that she would break me so easily just like that, but I had seen such things from her before. Miss Izanami was equal parts beauty, power and cruelty, and no person in the world surpassed her in any one of those categories. That was why I loved her. That was why I belonged to her.

A little tremendously faint murmur of satisfaction left her lips and every inch of me flushed with pride even as her heel ground painfully down on my jaw. I must have been doing well. That was my only thought as I continued to lay there and she continued to sit above me, her legs crossed and her foot firmly resting on my face, twisting and grinding and smashing down on me whenever the impulse struck her.

By the time she released me, her increasingly hot sole finally peeling away from my cheek and settling to the ground just in front of my face, my vision was blurry and my skull throbbed with a constant, pulsing ache. I tried to stretch my jaw and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to speak if I needed to, but when I heard her low, firm, melodic voice above me I was left utterly speechless anyhow.

“I’m ready for my stockings.”

My eyes had been fixed to the floor from the moment I’d entered her room, and to her perfect feet from the moment she’d arrived. Only now did I look up and discover a pair of rich, dark stockings neatly folded and laying on the little glass table beside her chair. My heart was already racing at the thought of what she wanted me to do, but in the next instant I noticed the tall black platform suede stilettos sitting alongside the table as well.

For a moment my heart must have stopped. I knew those shoes. I’d seen those shoes and the most terrifying and thrilling thing of all was that I knew what Miss Izanami liked to do with those shoes. I laid there for a moment longer, pulse racing and wide eyes fixed on her imposing, incredible footwear, but that moment ended quickly when the side of her foot flew through the air and smashed into my face, leaving me mewling in sudden agony with my trance and nose simultaneously shattered.

“Now.” She only needed tire escort a single word to convey her needs and the implications if she were not immediately obeyed. I tasted the warm trickle of my own blood on my lips as I pulled myself back up to my knees, but I didn’t dare touch it or brush it away for fear of getting any on Miss Izanami’s hosiery. Instead, I reached out with trembling hands, lifted one of the opaque, silken nylons and began to carefully scrunch the velvety material down until it was ready to accept her exceptional foot.

Her toes dangled before me at the end of her crossed leg, and I took a deep breath past my clenched teeth, trying to steady myself as I scooted forward to slip the fabric over her smooth, ivory skin. I was forced to keep my head turned at an awkward angle to be certain that none of the slowly trickling blood from my nose dripped onto her stockings, but through the strain I managed to keep my focus and a steady hand, gracefully guiding the supple fabric along the curves of her slender, powerful calf and over the knee.

I risked a glance upwards as I continued, intensely nervous to be so near to her majestic, milky thighs, but she continued to be all but unaware of my presence, keeping her focus on the tablet in her hands, tapping away at the screen here and there. I somehow managed to stretch the stocking to the very upper reaches of Miss Izanami’s thigh despite the shakiness suddenly returning to my hands and immediately drew back, desperately afraid of accidentally brushing her bare skin without permission. I had seen terrible things done to other girls for lesser offenses, and was all too eager to resume a more comfortable and familiar position at her feet.

With the other black stocking in my hands I settled back on my haunches and took another deep breath while scrunching this one like I had the first.

I looked up when I was done, expecting to slip the stocking over her toes just as easily as before, but she hadn’t moved a bit and her bare foot was still resting in the floor with her stockinged leg crossed over the knee.

Panic seized me. Sweat beaded on my brow as I dropped to the ground and tried to push the fabric beneath her foot, but it was firmly planted in the floor and I simply couldn’t make it work. I didn’t want to push too hard for fear of ripping something or causing some sort of disturbance or discomfort.

I struggled for a moment longer, eventually letting out a little wail of frustration and glancing upwards again. This time I was mortified to find that Miss Izanami was glaring right back at me, expressionless and disinterested as ever but shaking her head just enough to truly terrify me.

“Stop,” she commanded, and I immediately did.

“Sit up,” she followed, and again I instantly complied, popping back to sit on my heels.

She stared at me for a long, frightening moment, her dark eyes narrowed as she scrutinized my pathetic state. I was so paralyzed by her gaze that I didn’t even notice her legs uncrossing and her bare foot swinging through the air before it smashed into my cheek and sent me sprawling across the floor.

“I expected you to be disgusting,” I heard from somewhere above me, though her voice seemed distant and foggy now. “I didn’t expect you to be so useless.”

Tears filled my eyes, partly from the beating, but mostly because it was true. I was useless to her and more than that, I knew what Miss Izanami did with useless things.

She didn’t leave me to sulk for long. Again that same foot smashed into me, this time cracking a rib as it crashed into my side and sent me rolling over onto my back. The sight of her statuesque form towering over me immediately ceased my sobbing. No matter how much danger she presented, the sight of her was utterly breathtaking.

“Try again,” she murmured, and the shock of being given a second chance had barely settled in before her foot rose into the air and smashed down onto my chest.

Her stocking was still clutched in my fist, and I didn’t waste a moment getting it stretched out between my hands. This time she did me the courtesy of lifting her toes and I was able to slip the fabric over them, then over her heel as she settled her toes back down. My hands slid along the contours of her shapely leg until they reached her knee, but from that point I was at the limit of my reach and there was no lifting myself to go any further; her newly stockinged foot kept me pinned flat to the floor.

Before I could do much struggling against her insurmountable strength, Miss Izanami reached down and simply snatched the cuff of her stocking from my hands, tugging it up to the top of her thigh with practiced, graceful ease. When it was done, I was left staring up at her along the entire length of her smoldering, superior form while her warm, velvety foot still pressed down on my chest, nearly crushing the breath from my lungs.

The utter disdain in her eyes only strengthened the growing idea torbalı escort that I was like some sort of roach at her feet, revolting and unwanted and totally deserving to be pulverized beneath her heel. Still, I dreamed of her doing these things, and the few times I’d managed to actually see her do them to the other girls or to various victims had left me quivering with desire. Now that I was the one at her mercy, bloodied and trembling under her foot, I was filled with a loathsome fear for my life. Despite my absolute eager love for Miss Izanami and her tremendously potent brand of cruelty, I couldn’t stop being afraid to die.

“Please,” I finally managed to gasp, still struggling to draw enough breath beneath the crushing weight of her foot. “Please, please, Mistress…” the words tumbled from my lips, going in no particular direction, but as I laid there with tears starting to fill my eyes once again her heel lifted from my breast and I watched in wonder as that foot gently settled to the floor, leaving her straddling my hips as she breathed a long, exasperated sigh.

My pleas must have been somehow satisfying or at least slightly amusing. It wasn’t like she cracked a smile or anything, but it seemed like her cold, intense stare softened somewhat. I wanted to thank her for her mercy, but I was still too frightened to speak, so it was her that broke the silence.

“You’re a mess, little girl.” She smirked just slightly now, and I broke into a weird, sheepish grin as well, even pushing myself up on my elbows and nodding my agreement.

“Take off your gown,” she quickly added, leaving me blinking a few times before I moved to comply. The tiny, lacy things that the girls here were given as clothing barely afforded any sort of modesty, but there was still a huge difference, at least in my mind, between wearing a gown and having nothing on but my simple, plain underthings. In truth, Miss Izanami barely wore more than I, adding only her stockings, silken dressing gown and the elaborate designer stylings of her own underthings, but where I was exposed and helpless and ashamed, she was regal, beautiful… divine.

I pushed myself back, squirming out from between her feet and pushed myself up until I was sitting. My gown was so short that nothing was pinned beneath me and it was easy to pull it up over my head. I took a shaky breath and bashfully looked up at her to see she was expectantly holding out her hand, her head tilted at an angle I could only describe as impatient.

I handed over my gown, thoroughly confused and unsettled by this point. It was almost reassuring when she reached out with her other hand and firmly grasped my chin, her fingertips pressing into my cheeks as she forced my head back, keeping my eyes levelled with hers. Miss Izanami was always in control, but it was reassuring to have her so physically and directly take control of me. I couldn’t hold back a faint little smile, but that only lasted for a moment before she spat directly in my face.

Her saliva was hot on my skin, but that may have been more a result of my shock at her sudden action. My reaction must have been visibly obvious as well, because I heard her soft, brief chuckle over the rushing blood in my ears. I struggled to breathe, eyes flitting this way and that, but thankfully she took control again and my racing mind settled itself as she pushed my balled-up gown into my face. My eyes drifted shut as she roughly scrubbed the blood and grime from my skin, and when she was done I was calm. My face was reddened, my jaw was sore, and my shattered nose throbbed and forced me to breathe through my mouth, but I was calm.

“You can put my shoes on now,” she declared once she’d tossed my bloodied gown aside, and my heart was immediately back to hammering in my chest once again. I took a steadying breath and crawled on my hands and knees, feeling Miss Izanami’s eyes on me all the while as I retrieved her towering platform stilettos.

“You were a film student before you came to me, weren’t you, little girl?” She questioned as I crawled back to her feet, and immediately I was filled with a rush of confidence and pride. I wasn’t here just to be her toy for the morning and I wasn’t just another nameless girl in her collection today. Miss Izanami knew who I was, and she had a purpose for me.

“I was, Mistress,” I softly spoke while she raised her heel from the ground and I lovingly guided her pointed, stockinged toes into her heavy shoe, my fingers briefly caressing the rich suede as I helped settle her heel and then fasten her ankle strap.

I was eager to know what we’d be doing today, and now that I knew I was here for a reason I could be a little more bold. “You’re going to hurt someone today, aren’t you, Mistress?” I purred while positioning her other magnificent shoe.

“There’s few days where I don’t, little one,” she replied amidst a brief chuckle, and while I kept my head bowed so my attention could remain with urla escort her exquisite foot and the fascinating, fantastic way her smooth stocking slid down into the rich confines of her elegant shoe. “What makes you so curious?”

I carefully secured her second ankle strap once her foot was firmly settled, and before I could answer I leaned back, rising to my knees and admiring the work I’d done. The rich black of her opaque, thigh-length stockings blended perfectly with the black suede of her stilettos, making them seem almost like natural extensions of her legs. She was certainly accustomed to such extravagant shoes, as utterly comfortable and graceful in six-inch platform heels as she was in every other moment of her life.

I realized that she was waiting for my reply, but fortunately she didn’t seem to mind how stunned I was by her figure and fantastic footwear. I stammered slightly as I spoke, my eyes still riveted to my mistress’s feet. “I… I was privileged to be the one who cleaned those shoes last time you wore them.”

She gave another of her little chuckles as her eyes dropped to her feet, examining one of those shoes as she slowly turned it from side to side. “Oh?” was her only response, but even though I remained completely enraptured by every slight movement of her shoe, I could hear the grin in her voice.

I nodded and swallowed, finally looking up to meet her gaze. “They were pretty… messy,” I muttered with a little grin of my own, catching my mistress’s infectious smile.

“Were they now?” She cocked her head to the side and rolled her eyes upwards thoughtfully, taking a bit to recall the moment. “I think I do remember another little girl that had a lesson to learn…”

My eyes widened a little as I watched a predatory glint enter my mistress’s eyes. “I educated her. She’ll never step out of line again, and do you know why?”

My mouth was dry, and no matter how I tried I couldn’t find a single word to answer with. Fortunately for me, she didn’t seem to expect me to reply. Her foot slowly, deliberately rose from the floor and settled onto my bare, exposed thigh, her stiletto heel sinking into my flesh and her smooth, lacquered sole pressing into my skin.

“I smashed her to the ground,” she began, sultry tones entering her voice as she related the story, “and I broke her beneath my feet.”

I trembled with overwhelming desire for my mistress, the experience of her standing over me, of her stepping on me sending me to near ecstasy despite the growing revitalization of my fear.

“I crushed her, little one. I stepped on her and I ground and smashed and crushed her.” Her shoe began to twist back and forth into my leg, her stiletto heel dragging sharply against my skin and her platform sole powerfully smashing down on the tender flesh of my thigh.

“I broke her fragile little body beneath these very shoes, piece by piece, until all the light went out of her lovely little eyes.” Her chest heaved the slightest bit as she reminisced, and I whimpered as my thigh throbbed and ached beneath her foot, partially from the pain but primarily from my building, overwhelming lust for the incredible lady who owned me completely and could so easily do the same to me.

God, and I wanted her to. I didn’t crave pain, and I absolutely didn’t want to die, but the thought of being obliterated by her beauty, being crushed to nothing beneath her sexy, superior shoes… I was panting for her as she continued to stand over my kneeling form. Her shoe finally lifted from my thigh and settled back to the ground alongside its twin, and I glanced down with pride at the perfect indentation her heel had left and the already forming bruise.

I looked up at her through heavily lidded eyes with absolutely undisguised desire, and she met my gaze for a moment, but before long she’d broken into a contemptuous little laugh that left her smirking and shaking her head.

“There’s a few minutes before we go teach another lesson, little girl. Go ahead. Kiss my shoes.”

I blinked a few times, stunned again by her unexpected generosity, but I didn’t need any urging to obey such a sweet command. I stretched out before her, and my body was raging with such heat that the hard floor felt like ice beneath my belly. None of that mattered one bit once my lips brushed the supple suede that held my mistress’s magnificent feet. I moaned low and long as I nuzzled my cheek against her instep, flushing as I accidentally felt her stocking graze my skin.

“Mm, yes. Good. Worship me,” she entreated from somewhere far above. I tried to start with restraint, keeping the kisses I placed along the curves of her imposing shoes long and loving, but my self-control didn’t hold out for long. This was what I dreamed about when I laid in my cell at night. This was fantasy come to life. I was like an animal in heat, my thighs grinding together and my lustful kisses growing fast and furious as I moaned and squirmed on the ground.

Suddenly her exquisite shoe lifted away from my lips, and before I could protest it was already firmly settled on the side of my face, pinning my skull to the ground. I tried to twist my head, to stretch my tongue to lap at my mistress’s lovely heel, but it was no use and I was left to simply whine while she stepped on me.