Her Legs Were Not Her Own

Jan 22 2015
fiction // comments

Her legs, bound in fishnets, shaped by heels, her legs were not her own.

Every step brings me closer

Every step takes me deeper

She felt so empty, but so heavy, she could never have climbed the steps on her own, but her treacherous legs, locked in lace, slowly did as they'd been programmed.

Every step brings me closer

Every step takes me deeper

She knew the door was up there, in the dark. And on the other side, an endless spiral into servitude. But she was too horny to think, and too weak to resist.

Every step brings me closer

Every step takes me deeper

Slowly, slowly, one heel began to mount the first step...

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