She’d always known he was pretty kinky. He bought her a new pair of shoes every date they went on. He griped if she wore socks, smalls or tights.

“Well I do like them,” he said licking the soles of her feet. “They taste good and look like porcelain.”

She squirmed. He smirked.

She knew what was coming next. She’d seen the hacksaw in the top drawer.


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