The Red Shoes by Leigh Wilder

This is a 4,300 word short story.

Master insists that Angel wear all white as a sign of her purity. She’s been living with him for two years, but she remains a virgin until the day she sees a pair of red shoes in a shop window. The shoes are sex and life–she has to have them, no matter how terrible the punishment. She will lose her virginity…but by giving him such an ultimatum, will she also lose the man she loves?

This is a BDSM Romantica short. It contains: submission, spanking, defloration.

SKU: B00BCOZYMW Category: Erotica Tags: BDSM, erotica, short

Description
Reviews (0)

Description

Find more from this author on:

About the author:

Leigh Wilder has been writing for 18 years and writing erotica for half of that. She writes in various genres– contemporary, fantasy, paranormal, sci-fi and more. She writes m/f, m/m and f/f.

What inspired you to write your book?

I like to re-write fairy tales. This is based on the Anderson tale of the same name. While the plots are very different I think the original tale shows through. Specifically, I saw a woman wearing red heels with a white dress one day at a gallery. The stunning visual led to the character Angel and her use of red shoes to free herself from her virginity.

Here is a short sample from the book:

Angel stood in line for coffee, stepping up to order. “Grande Caramel Caffe Macchiato,” she said, just as a masculine voice echoed her exact order at the other register. She turned to smile at her twin, but as soon as she caught sight of the man she faltered. He was one of *those* men.
Confident and powerful in a thousand dollar suit, dark hair going a little grey at the temples. He was tall and broad and…virile was the word that jumped into her mind. She might have laughed except it was so true. He returned her smile, more pleasant than what she would have imagined from the cost of his suit.
“You have excellent taste in coffee,” he said as they stepped aside to wait for their orders. “And beautiful eyes.”
She could feel herself blush. Men like this didn’t speak to girls like her. She was a sophomore in college, majoring in education, small and mousy and young. This man was almost forty and clearly accomplished. “Thank you,” she said, and, feeling foolish, “I like your tie.”
His laugh was deep and booming, honest. She liked it. “Are you a student here?” he asked and she nodded, not trusting herself to speak. “I’m doing a talk for the law school.” A lawyer. Of course he was. “What is your name?”
“Angel,” she answered.
“How apropos. Would you like to go to dinner with me Angel?”