Sitting down to write, my inspiration for this smut was simply leather boots. I don’t think I have a leather kink but I definitely have feelings about boots, and I’m delighted by the filth that ended up spilling from my fingers. Read on for smut that include humiliation, exhibitionism, and a kinky dinner party.
My girlfriend describes herself as tiny and chubby but when she wears those boots I’m the one who feels small. They’re knee-high, black leather boots, lovingly polished by me. I am always her submissive, but the dominant energy she exudes while wearing those boots means that no one else doubts that either.
Of course, when I’m kneeling at her feet wearing a collar, the other end of its leash in her hand, it’s also pretty clear that she’s in charge.
She always wears that pair of boots when we go to a kink club or a sex party, and polishing them has become a pre-scene ritual for me. Earlier she edged me for hours (or at least what felt like hours), giggling as I begged for permission to come and telling me to hold it, hold it, hold it… and then smiling cruelly as she ripped the vibrator away at the last minute. I was wet and squirmy by the time she sent me off to make sure her boots were shining for the dinner party we were attending that evening.
“And don’t think I didn’t notice that you seemed to quite like it when I made you strip and lick my boots last time… so if they don’t fucking sparkle I’ll have to find another way to punish you for your carelessness, you dirty little bitch.”
Dinner parties with our kinky friends are the best, because she really can make good on those delicious domly threats and indulge in my love of exhibitionism. I get so turned on when she plays with me and makes me do humiliating things in front of our friends – and even more so when she points out how wet I am and makes me show them my cunt. It’s a semi-public setting where we can be openly kinky, and she knows that starting the evening with orgasm denial will make me even more eager to do depraved things in front of everyone later. Not that I need too much encouragement in the first place.
She always wears her leather boots.
After dinner – which is filled with teasing because another sub has a vibrator strapped to her cunt – we withdraw to the living room that doubles as a playroom. I sit at my girlfriend’s feet, watching one of my friends getting spanked and wishing that it was me who was bent over the arm of the chair. I try not to think about all the things I hope she’ll do to me this evening… like maybe she’ll have two of our friends hold me down so she can kick my cunt and my whole body jerks as the rounded leather tip thuds into me, or she’ll order me to edge in front of everyone while off-handedly discussing what a dirty slut I am so I flush with shame.
But she doesn’t. The evening goes on and I watch most of our other friends fuck each other up, but my girlfriend does nothing more than tug on my leash to make sure I am paying attention to the floggings and the forced orgasms and the figging (with ginger left over from cooking dinner). The longer she doesn’t touch me the more I want her to touch me, and I can feel myself getting wetter as I get more desperate.
In fact, by the time she gently cups my chin, in the way I hate-love because it stops me from turning away when she says cunt-clenchingly hot things, I am so eager for her touch that I almost rub my face into her hand.
“Aww, are you wanting to be touched? Is your cunt dripping as you imagine everything I could do to you, and wondering why I haven’t done any of them yet?”
Her words are loud and clear, and no one who sees her like this – drawing every eye in the room towards her and her squirming sub – could ever think that she was anything but a dom. And a rather sadistic one at that. I nod.
“I wanted to make you wait, to make you watch everyone else while denying you any kind of touch. And right now you’re expecting me to be really mean, aren’t you? Well, I won’t be. You can come.”
My frantic delight is cut short when she pulls on the leash again, smirking down at me.
“You can come, if you can get off just by humping my boots. Do you like that, you filthy little bitch?
I mewl, and try to hide my face by nuzzling into her legs, but the short length of leash stops me. I beg with my eyes, but know better than to argue with her here. She doesn’t make me turn around to face everyone, but I know they’re all watching me as I wiggle out of my knickers, but she uses my collar to make sure I’m looking directly at her. My cheeks burn with embarrassment and lust, and I let out a low moan of relief as I grind my cunt into her left boot.
“Good girl. It’s going to be so fun to watch you trying to come like this.”
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Quinn Rhodes (he/him) is a queer, trans, disabled sex writer with vaginismus. He’s a slut and a sex nerd who writes about his adventures in trying to fuck without fucking up. Quinn can usually be found wearing stomp-on-the-patriarchy boots while falling in love every time he fucks.