The Red Shoes

By Marlena Wolf

In the classic fairytale, the red shoes made their wearer dance. Our red shoes are a whole lot naughtier than that. They fulfil deep dark desires and make their wearer irresistibly hot and sexy. Come along for the ride as five of our steamy authors each share a devilishly erotic tale about what happens when you wear the red-hot heels. The dominatrix, the bridesmaid, the new girl in town, the nice girl and the hooker each find themselves caught in the magic of the red shoes and their lives are changed forever. Spend a little time with them. Who knows? The magic might just rub off!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marlena Wolf
• Release date: Oct 26, 2018
• ISBN: 9781925892024

Marlena Wolf

Marlena is the bewitching half of the Wolfstone equation. Aside from being one of our founding authors and our illustrious leader. She also takes care of the day to day running the Wolfstone brand. She is feisty, gorgeous, smart and sassy. She also seems to have a constant stream of gorgeous young lovers, male and female, to keep her amused. She writes erotica because she can.....

Book preview

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This book is entirely a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real people or situations is purely coincidental. It contains graphic content of a sexual nature and is for the entertainment of people over the age of 18 years only.

All of our characters, whilst fictional, are consenting adults.

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The Red Shoes

Written by

Amethyst Bercher

Marlena Wolf

Sapphyre Blue

Bradbury Stone

Candice Bradford

Published by Wolfstone Books

Copyright 2018 Wolfstone books

All rights reserved.

No portion of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

For more information, please contact Marlena Wolf

Contents

Little Red Ride by Amethyst Bercher

Three Times the Bridesmaid by Marlena Wolf

A Christmas Carol by Sapphyre Blue

The Mermaid's Pearls by Bradbury Stone

Aladdin's Cave by Candice Bradford

Back to Contents

Little Red Ride

She shimmied out of her sweat soaked clothes and threw herself onto the bed, still panting from her morning workout. She felt good, her blood was pumping, and she felt alive. Her skin glowed with tiny beads of moisture, and as she cooled down, her nipples became hard and started to ache. She reached up to play with them, taking each one between her thumb and middle finger and twisting it gently back and forth. She liked that; it sent an electric spark to her groin, and she felt herself growing warm and wet.

She reached one hand down between her legs to touch herself. She was wet and very aroused, as she often was after exercise, and was becoming more so, as she dipped her fingers into herself and played in her juices.

She reached into her bedside drawer and pulled out her new toy, grinning at the gentle purring sound it made when she turned it on. She slid it over her nipples first, then traced it down her body, enjoying the buzz along her skin. When she finally pressed it between her legs and then deep inside herself, she gasped out loud. She hadn’t had this toy for very long, but she was enjoying it.

The gentle curve meant she could easily reach her g-spot and the little vibrating nub was in just the right position to press onto her clit. It was fabulous and well worth the money she had spent on it.

She laid back, her legs slightly bent, and plunged the toy deep into herself as she reached her first orgasm. She had heard that some women had trouble climaxing, but she never had. At least not when she was with a competent lover.

She smiled to herself at the thought of being her own competent lover. She was mostly fine with that, but there were moments when it would be nice to have a man that knew how to please her. It had been a long time. As she recalled past lovers, she moved so that the vibrations were getting her in just the right spot to get her over the line a second time.

She took a short breather and enjoyed the sensation of touching her now sensitive clit with her fingertips, then she turned up the power on her toy and slid it up inside herself again. This time she meant business and she pressed her hips up to meet her hand with each plunge of the toy as if she was moving to meet a thrusting lover while pinching and twisting her nipples with her free hand.

The sweat on her skin increased and she panted and grunted as she fucked herself to an amazing high and then groaned as she hit her next orgasm like a high-speed collision. She managed to switch off the vibrations just before she was spun into a centrifuge of pleasure and release.

She laid there panting and smiling and feeling good about her morning. She basked in the warm glow for a while, then got up and headed for the shower. She did have a job on today after all, so she had better start preparing.

She loved her new shower head; it had different settings that suited different things. She washed and rinsed her hair, shaved her legs and underarms; then turned to a high massage setting that stung as it hit her skin and made her tingle all over. It was always better when she had just had sex and her nipples were still sensitive. It felt like tiny needles piercing her skin and it made her feel alive. The tingle lasted long after she and her hair were dry.

She stood in front of the mirror admiring the pink glowing skin of her naked form. Nice, she thought, and smiled at her vanity as she moved back and forth to strike different poses. She ran her fingertips up the outside of her thigh and hip, then across her stomach and up to her breasts. She cupped one in her hand and felt the weight of it appreciatively. Not the small perky breasts of her youth she mused as she gently tweaked one still stinging nipple. Fuller, more mature but still firm. The sort of breasts that drove her clients wild when spilling over the top of a tightly laced corset as she administered whatever punishment was on the agenda for the day.

But no corset today. She wasn’t even going into the ‘office’. She would let the girls handle the heavy work for the day; she had a special assignment. She had been in the business ten years now and was starting to wind down her ‘hands-on’ dungeon work, with a view to retirement - or at least semi-retirement. She turned to admire the rear view and ran her hand over one well-rounded cheek, then broke her own reverie with a short, sharp slap.

She had her clothes laid out on the bed. Her grey, figure-hugging, woollen skirt, that came to just below the knee with a matching jacket and a plain white shirt. Very school ma'am-ish, she thought. Today, she was going for a slightly vampish headmistress look so she had also laid out fine net stockings with black lace tops that held snuggly to her thighs and a bright red bra with matching knickers edged in black and red lace.

Earlier, she’d sent the client a photo of the knickers with the promise that she would post them to him if he was a good boy and followed the rules. The finishing touch was her brand new bright red stilettos with the shiny black heels. She bought them on a whim from an odd little shop in Copenhagen when she was on holiday and had been aching for a chance to wear them.

She remembered the man who sold them to her. He looked about a million years old, but he fixed her with a steely eye and warned her that they were 'magic shoes'. Not for the faint-hearted, he’d told her. She laughed at the memory. Interesting sales technique she had thought at the time, and now today was the day to wear them.

She dressed with care, leaving just enough shirt buttons undone to give a tantalising glimpse of cleavage and lace and drew her hair back into a rather stern bun. Her makeup was subtle and understated with the exception of her lipstick, which was bright red to match her manicured fingernails, her underwear, and those gorgeous red shoes.

As she stepped her stockinged feet into the stilettos, she felt a rush of excitement race from her toes to her newly aroused pussy and decided she might enjoy just a little more play before she went to work. This time she stood leaning up against the wall in front of the mirror so that she could see the shoes.

She slid her fingers under the lace beneath her skirt and moved the crotch of her knickers to one side and found her swollen clit with her fingertips. She imagined a different competent lover. One that liked what she liked and knew how to turn her on and, more importantly, how to get her off. A strong, successful man who she could rely on but who would submit to her totally where and when it counted.

She thought about how he might smell,