I posted this rather long foot torture story to the newsgroup about 6
months ago, received a fair amount of positive feedback, so have decided
to repost it. It comes in four separate parts, I will try to post them so
that they arrive together at the newsgroup.
I welcome all feedback and comments. I have a very specific obsession
with foot abuse and foot torture of women's feet. Also I am fascinated by
any type of female foot deformity, most especially severe bunions, foot
pain or injury, toe or foot amputation, Chinese footbinding, ballerina's
in pointe shoes, extreme high heels, masochistic women who abuse their own
feet, and a whole LOT more!
I would love to hear from anyone who has similar interests, or who
wishes to share any stories, experiences, photos, or anything else
relating to these subjects. Please feel free to e-mail me. All comments
and questions are very welcome. :)
Hope you enjoy reading the story, I certainly had a lot of fun writing
Take care, Joe
Marie learns a painful high heel torture lesson
By Joe, e-mail: Joe1...@aol.com
It had been yet another long hard day at work. Thank God today is
Friday, thought Joe as he pulled into the driveway of his modest 3 bedroom
home. Marie would be home, with a hot dinner freshly cooked, and then a
whole weekend to relax and unwind. Joe reached into the curbside mailbox
and snatched out a pile of stuff. Junk catalogs mostly, same as every day.
The monthly credit card statement bill caught his eye. Beautiful, another
installment due already. Joe & Marie were trying to pay off this credit
card, but could only afford an extra hundred dollars per month. They'd
gone up to $1800 on this card, but slowely had worked it down to only
$300. Joe idly tore open the envelope as he opened the front door. He
blinked at the balance due figure, $1049 ?? This must be a mistake,
thought Joe with growing apprehension. He scanned the document, looking
for the cause of this bizarre numerical figure. New expenses.......$749
charged to Monique's Shoe Boutique. Joe's mouth feel open, surely Marie
could not, would not, possibly have spent $749 for shoes, it was not
possible. Sure, Marie had been spending a lot of money lately on
unnecessary items, but this was too much, way beyond the pale.
"Marie! Come down here!" yelled Joe. He paced the living room as he
waited. Marie appeared at the top of the staircase "Hi honey, I have a
delicious pot roast in the oven", she said gaily, as she came down the
stairs. As usual, Marie was beautifully dressed, full make-up, stockings,
and high heels. She was a beautiful woman, and she knew this. Many times
Joe had thought about how lucky he was to have met her three years ago,
and married her two years ago. She was out of his league, in terms of
beauty. But they had fallen in love and Joe knew she was more than
beautiful. Also shy and sweet and loved pampering Joe and taking care of
the house. Joe was proud of her beauty, and appreciated the fact that she
liked dressing up for him, even though she had no job & only went out to
shop and socialize with her friends. She cultivated a glamorous image,
always dressing up before he came home. Once though, Joe had unexpectedly
come home at lunchtime, only to find Marie in her pajames, dirty
sweatsocks and slippers on. She had been very embarrassed, had actually
fled upstairs to change. Her vanity and sweetly blushing personality had
always attracted him. But lately Marie had been showing a greedy side of
her nature. A thoughtlessness regarding financial matters. Joe was happy
to support her, but this credit card prchase of $749 for shoes was
unacceptable. Drastic measures needed to be taken, Joe decided.
Joe held out the credit card statement to Marie, "What the hell is
this! Did you spend $749 on shoes this month!!?" Marie cringed at his
loud voice. "yyyesss, darling. There was a big sale. 40% of on each
pppair....." Joe grabbed her by the elbow, "come on, I wanna see what
you bought for all this money!" They went into the master bedroom, with
the walk-in closet. Dresses and slacks and skirts everywhere. But most of
all, shoes. Shoes piled up in stacks of 15 boxes, over 8 feet high.... Joe
could not believe Marie had just spent $749 for more shoes. "How many
pairs did you buy??" he asked. "aaahhhh, 11, I think," said Marie.
"Eleven?? Eleven pairs of shoes at once??" Joe shouted. "There was a big
sale, these buys were terrific....." stammered Marie. Joe knew a serious
lesson was needed, and a thought began to ferment in his brain. A way to
punish Marie, and to fulfill a lifelong fetish fantasy of his. "Let's go
Marie, you are going to gather up all eleven pairs, together with the
receipt, and we are going down to the mall and returning all the shoes",
said Joe. Marie was shocked, surely they would eat dinner first and then
discuss the matter further. But Joe had a grip on Marie's arm, and a look
in his eyes that she had never seen before. She quickly set about to
gather up the eleven pairs of shoes. Most were fashion pumps, but with
only a moderate 2 inch heel. Marie loved dressing up, but her feet did not
enjoy high heels very much. Usually at dinner she would discreetly slip
off her shoes as they ate. In public also, she would ease off her shoes at
times, to gain some relief. But she was very shy about anyone noticing her
doing this, and would furtively glance around to make sure nobody was
looking at her unshod feet.
Marie gathered up the boxes of shoes and the receipt in resigned
sadness. Deep in her heart she knew she should not have bought the shoes,
she knew money was tight. Joe reached over to a pair of 3 inch pumps,
black suede, that Marie had bought about a year ago, they were very
elegant and pretty, although a bit too high in the heel for Marie's
tastes. "Wear these", said Joe. Again Marie was surprised, Joe had never
told her what shoes to wear before. She would have preferred a lower heel,
especially for a casual trip to the mall. But she simply smiled and nodded
her okay. No point in getting Joe mad at me again, she thought.
Carrying the shoes in 2 large shopping bags, Marie made her way
outside to the car. "No car, were gonna take the bus", said Joe. "What's
wrong with the car", said Marie in concern. Obviously they would be taking
the car, unless it's broken down, thought Marie. "Don't worry about it"
said Joe. "Let's go to the bus stop." It was a 4 block walk to the bus
stop, and they would have to change buses once to connect to the mall bus.
Marie regretted having worn the 3 inch black suede pumps as they slowely
made their way to the bus stop. They reached the stop and Marie placed the
2 large shoe filled bags down, sighing as she did so. They stood waiting,
Marie shifting her weight from foot to foot. Joe took the opportunity to
study Marie's feet, even though he had done so many times before. They
were size 8, a perfect size 8, on her 5' 7" body. Joe had a foot fetish,
Marie knew this. He often kissed and massaged and stroked her feet before
sex. Many times he even came on her feet. Marie didn't know if that was a
good thing....But she accepted it, as loving partners do. What Marie did
not know was that Joe also had a dark side to his foot fetish. A side that
including fantasies of hurting Marie's feet, of abusing them.... But Marie
was soon to find out the extent of Joe's fantasies.
They soon arrived at the mall, and with Marie leading the way, made
their way to Monique's Shoe Boutique. Joe had never been to the store
before, as they only sold women's shoes. The salesman immediately
recognized Marie as she came in, she was a frequent customer, and even
more frequent browser. "Hello Marie, how are you today?", he called out.
Marie blushed, this was an awkward situation, returning eleven pairs of
shoes. Joe spoke on her behalf, "My wife needs to return these eleven
pairs of shoes she bought here, we have the receipt right here, all of the
shoes are in perfect condition, have never been worn outside." The
salesman's face fell. This was not a pleasant turn of events. He turned to
Marie, "what is wrong, were all the shoes uncomfortable", he asked with
some confusion. Marie blushed and could not reply. "She has no use for
them. They are not suitable for her." said Joe. Joe looked around the
store. A pair of 4 1/2 high heel stiletto gold patent pumps with a closed
pointy toe grabbed his attention. He picked up the shoe and examined it. "
We need to return all eleven pairs, and buy one pair of these gold pumps,
in size 6." Marie turned to him in astonishment, mouth wide open. What
was Joe saying, she tried to understand his meaning as she looked at the
gold pump he was holding in his hand. "Sir??" , said the salesman, as he
glanced at the shoe and at Marie's feet. Marie wore a size 8, the salesman
was certain of this. "Just do what I say", said Joe. "Make out a refund
for the eleven pairs we are returning, and bring me one pair of these gold
pumps in size 6." The salesman remained confused, but began checking the
receipt, and examining each pair of shoes that were being returning. They
indeed were all in mint, unworn condition. Marie continued to gaze at Joe
with true bewilderment as they waited for the salesman to finish. Why in
the world would Joe buy a pair of those very high 4 1/2 pumps in that loud
color of patent gold, and in size 6??? thought Marie. It made no sense at
all. "Joe darling..." began Marie. But Joe cut her off with a finger to
his mouth. "l know what i'm doing", he said. But Marie could not help
blurting out "Joe, my shoe size is 8, not 6!" Joe merely leaned over and
whispered into her ear, "I know what size you wear", as a strange
expression passed over his face.
The salesman returned carrying a wad of cash, and a shoe box. "Here
you go", he said somewhat reluctently, "Your full refund of $749". Joe
held out his hand and took the thick wad of cash. "And here are the gold
pumps in size....6", he said, eyes once again upon Marie's feet. "How much
are the shoes?", asked Joe. "$59.99", said the salesman. Joe smiled, a
small price to pay for realizing a lifelong fantasy, thought Joe. We'll
take the shoes", said Joe briskly, as he checked the size on the shoebox
edge and confirmed they were indeed size 6.
Marie and Joe slowely walked out of the shoe store, Marie's cheeks
ablaze. "That was very embarrassing", she whispered. "And what in the
world possessed you to buy those gold stiletto shoes in size 6???" Joe
took Marie's arm and guided her to a wooden bench on the side aisle of the
mall walkway. "Let's sit down" he said. They sat, and Joe reached down
towards her feet. With a quick motion he pulled off her left shoe, and
reached towards the right one. "What the Hell is this??" She exclaimed,
using the mild obscenity in her shock over what was happening. "Marie,
take off your other shoe", said Joe, a cruel inflection to his voice.
Marie stared at him. "What is this Joe, what is going on here??" Joe gazed
steadily at her "You are going to be punished for buying those eleven
pairs of shoes. You are going to be taught a painful lesson, that you will
remember for a long time to come, especially whenever you feel the urge to
buy new shoes. Now, take off your other shoe right now!!" Marie was
frightened, Never in their 3 year relationship had Joe spoken to her in
this way, with this tone of voice. She did not know what to think, or what
to say. She merely sat up straight, and allowed Joe to reach down and take
off her other shoe.
"Stay here", Joe commanded, as he stood up with the 2 black suede pumps
that Marie had been wearing. Carrying them in hand, Joe briskly got up and
walked to a nearby trash can, where he shoved in the pair of shoes. Marie
watched Joe in astonishment as he did this, and then returned to the
bench. "You just threw away a perfectly good pair of shoes, Joe. How could
you do that??", exclaimed Marie as she glanced down and began to blush
over her exposed feet, clad only in a pair of nude colored, sheer
stockings. Joe reached into the bag and pulled out the shoebox with the
size 6 gold stiletto pumps. He pulled out the shoes and set them down on
the floor. "Put them on", ordered Joe. Marie nearly laughed, despite her
confusion and distress. "Joe, those shoes are size 6, I wear a size 8.
There is no way I could put those on. And look at that heel, 4 1/2 inches,
you know that 3 inches is my absolute limit." Joe reached down towards
Marie's feet, and grasped the left one by the ankle joint. Roughly he
manuevered her foot inside the left shoe. It was obvious they were far too
small. Her heel hung out the back of the closed shoe by a good inch and a
"There is no way I can put these on, much less stand up in them", Marie
emphatically declared. Joe pulled Marie's foot slightly out
of the shoe, so that her toes were visible. "Listen Marie," he said "You
must bend all your toes down, flex them down as much as you can while I
shove your foot into the shoe. Don't keep the toes straight, bend them all
the way, and keep them bent as i'm pushing on your foot". Marie heard his
words, and though she could not make sense of why this was happening, she
knew she must obey. Joe bent down and grasped her foot firmly by the
ankle, making sure he had a solid grip through her slippery sheer nylons.
With his other hand he slowely guided the foot into the shoe, and then
placed his index finger near the back of the heel. "Now, Marie, bend your
toes all the way down. Do it now!", Joe said, and as he said this he
pushed with all his strength upon Marie's ankle, forcing her foot into the
shoe. "Bend the toes!!", he whispered fiercely, as he continued pushing.
He could see it was going to be very difficult. He manuevered his index
finger on his other hand until it was just inside the closed heel of the
shoe, and pulled back on the shoe material, at the same time as he pushed
her foot forward mightily with his other hand. Almost got it.....thought
Joe, his own face flushing with the exertion. With a final heave, Marie's
heel managed to just about make it inside the closed back of the pump. But
Joe's index finger was trapped back there. He gritted his teeth, this
would be tricky. Pull out the finger while pushing in the heel of Marie's
foot... He gave a final push and pulled out his finger, feeling skin
peeling off his knuckle. Mission aaccomplished! Joe sat up and took
several deep breaths, examining his skinned and bruised index finger. It
hurt, but was not actually bleeding. Marie sat there, her mind awirl. Her
left foot felt like a damn sardine, wedging and crammed inside a shoe far
too small. She could not move any part of her left foot. The toes were
bent over double inside the pointy closed toe box, and could not be moved
even a tiny fraction, so jammed into the shoe were they. Well, standing up
in this shoe was going to be impossible, much less taking a step, Marie
knew this for certain.
Joe reached down for her right foot, as Marie grabbed his hand. "Joe,
this is crazy." She remarked. "My toes are crushed and lying on top of
each other inside the shoe. They are killing me already. I can't possibly
stand or walk in these shoes. Just go back to the garbage can and dig out
those black pumps so we can go home and forget this nonsense." Joe looked
at her steadily. "Do you love me?" he asked. The question truly startled
Marie. "Oh course I love you, Joe, you know I love you with all my heart."
Her heart began to thump "Joe, Do you llllooove mmmeee" she fearfully
stammered out the words. Joe looked at her steadily. "I do love you
Marie", he said, and her heart soared. "But this punishment must be given
to you. You must learn the value of money. There will be a lot of pain
over the next few hours, but always remember that I do love you, and that
this pain and punishment will make our marriage stronger." Once again
Marie was speechless with surprise, trying to digest the unusual words
that Joe had spoken. Joe took this opportunity to grasp Marie's right
foot, and to begin the arduous process of maneuvering her foot fully
inside of the much too small size 6 shoe. Her right foot was fractionally
larger than her left, which made the process even more difficult than her
left foot had been. Joe was truly sweating from exertion as he pushed on
her foot with one hand, grasping it around the ankle, and skinned &
bruised his index finger once again while trying to stretch back the heel
of the shoe to allow Marie's foot to fit inside. All the while Marie made
soft noises of pain and winced in agony, as she felt her poor delicate
foot being shoved and manhandled into a true torture device, which only
masqueraded as an ordinary shoe. Her embarrassment over having this done
to her in a public place was extreme. She felt the eyes of fellow mall
shoppers upon her as they walked by and saw Joe trying desperately to
manipulate her feet into the shoes. She did bend and scrunch up her toes,
just so that the ordeal would be over.
Finally the right foot was fully inserted inside the shoe.It felt
even worse than the left one, if that were possible. The foot was totally
immobilized inside the shoe. The toes were bent over double, piled on top
of each other, the fifth baby toe being especially unbearable, jammed into
the hard leather of the toe box with a degree of force Marie had never
dreamed possible. In addition, Marie's toenails had been in need of a
trimming. Now the sharp nails dug into the tender flesh on the sides of
her toes. The toes could not be moved at all, so jammed and packed into
the tiny size 6 shoe were they.
Marie turned to Joe,eyes wide in pain. "Okay, Joe, I've learned my
lesson. I'll never ever buy anything without telling you, and asking for
permission. Now, please, let me take off these torture shoes. I don't even
know if I can pull them off myself, they are so incredibly tight!" Joe
smiled, "We are going to go home now. And you will wear these shoes all
the way home, but before we go home, we will make a stop at the
supermarket so that you can learn what to properly spend money on!" Marie
got a very serious expression on her face. "Listen to me, Joe, I cannot
walk in these shoes. It's impossible! Even sitting here my toes are being
crushed, my toenails are cutting into the sides of my toes! And these are
4 1/2 inch high heels, If I stand up all the weight will be on my toes. I
just can't walk, Joe!!!" Joe reached over to hug her. His touch felt good
after the strange events of the past few hours. "It'll be okay" said Joe
softly. I'll help you,I'll be right by your side all the time, and when we
get home I'll take care of your injured feet, I promise. But right now, we
have to finish this punishment, I'll help you though this, because I love
you." With this Joe tenderly kissed Marie on the lips, then stood up and
held out his arms towards her.
Marie whimpered in misery as she slowely wiggled her bottom forward
on the bench. Finally she was perched on the edge. She looked down at her
feet in amazement. The size 6 shoes looked so tiny, she could not believe
her own size 8 feet were inside of those closed toe and heel gold colored
pumps with a 4 1/2 inch heel and a tiny narrow toe box. But the pain was
enough to convince her that this was no dream or nightmare, but true
reality. How could she stand or walk in these shoes? Marie had no idea,
but Joe was standing, looking impatient, and holding out his arm for her
Marie pushed her pocketbook up over her shoulder, and reaching out
with both hands, grasped Joe's forearm, pulling herself up onto her feet.
A wave of pain shot through both her feet as her crushed and twisted toes
were pushed into the hard leather of the tiny toe box. She gasped aloud
and nearly fell, but Joe grabbed her with his other arm and steadied her
upright. "Oh Joe, I can't!!" whimpered Marie, as Joe took a step forward
and tried to drag Marie, who was holding on fiercely to his forearm,
along. "You can walk", said Joe. "Just put one foot in front of the other,
like you've been doing all your life." Marie miserably shuffled a step
forward, barely lifting up her foot from the ground. "Aaaaahhhhhhhh", she
moaned aloud, feeling her toes being squashed and pressed into the
unyielding shoe leather. "Come on Marie, we have a long trip home, and we
have to stop at the supermarket too", remarked Joe. Marie suddenly
remembered that they had taken the bus to the mall. "Taxi", she said
emphatically. "call for a taxi, Joe, right now." But Joe merely smiled,
"You know how tight money is these days. The buses run fine, and if we're
lucky, there will be available seats on the bus." Marie rolled her eyes
and prayed to God that seats would indeed be available.
Continuing to tightly grasp Joe's forearm, Marie very slowely
hobbled through the mall, towards the outdoor bus stop. Her progress was
truly creeping, as she shuffled along. An involuntary groan of pain
escaped her lips with each 2nd step. The right foot was especially bad,
with the baby toe wedged into an impossible position, crushed against the
edge of the toe box, and the toenail of her fourth toe being ragged and
cutting like a knife into the side of her third toe. She shuffled forward,
aware of other mall shoppers staring at her. She could see their
inquisitive expressions, trying to understand what was wrong. Had she
sprained an ankle? Was she having stomach cramps? She knew she looked
ridiculous, hobbling along in those 4 1/2 inch high gold pumps like a 95
year old woman about to keel over. Her face was aflame with embarrassment,
but the pain she was feeling in her feet overwhelmed all other sensations.
They finally reached the mall entry door and Joe gallantly held
open the heavy door for Marie as she hobbled out. The hard concrete
sidewalk was torturous to Marie as she staggered towards a bench. She
actually lifted up her left foot normally and took a long stride, so
anxious was she to reach the bench and sit down. As she put that left foot
down she could feel an especially intense jolt of pain over the knuckle of
her second toe, then felt a warm sensation in the same area. "Oh God", she
gasped softly. "I think it's starting to bleed, my bent over second toe
has been rubbing against the top of the shoe, and now I think it's
bleeding!" Marie looked at Joe, her lovely face screwed up in misery as
she said this. Joe held her elbow and let Marie take some weight off her
left foot as she staggered the final steps to the bench, and sank down
upon it. Sitting, she held both her feet up from the ground and tried to
will away the intense pain. The shoes felt as though they were molded and
glued onto her feet. She honestly doubted if she had the physical strength
to wrench them off her agonized feet, but she sure felt like trying. As if
reading her thoughts, Joe bent down and whispered into her ear, "Do not
even think about taking off the shoes until we get home." Once again
Marie beseeched God to grant her the strength to endure the pain that
still lay ahead.
An older lady sitting next to Marie on the bench noticed her distress
and peered down at her feet. "Long day shopping, dear?" she enquired. "You
really should wear more practical shoes, like mine", said the older lady,
as she flexed her feet with white tennis sneakers on. Marie could only try
to smile through her agony as she gazed at the comfortable sneakers and
felt the hot agony of her own crushed and mashed toes. Her heels were not
being spared any pain either. The extremely tight shoes were digging into
her heels and rubbing them raw with every step.
(Continued in part #2, separate post)
This is REALLY, really good! and HOT, too. I think you must be a
professional pornographer <g>.
Hey, Joe! Aren't we all!
By HOT, I meant that you capture the dominant/submissive (and I don't
mean this in the way Captive does, not erotic over/under type thing)
relationship that is central to great pornography. The Joe character in
your story loves Marie and cares for her, but still forces her to do
things that hurt her, for his sexual gratification. And in the story,
although we are aware that Marie is enduring terrible pain and
humiliation, her love for Joe (and even more, her knowledge of his love
for her) makes this OK--she's not really willing, but not really
unwilling, either. At least that's what appeals to me about the story.
Anyway, good job.
> > I think you must be a
> >professional pornographer <g>.
> I don't discuss how I earn my money, therefore I cannot confirm or deny your
> hypothesis. But if you think about it, you'll probably realize that this guess
> of yours is somewhat unlikely to be accurate. :)
Oh, you know I was teasing. For one thing, if I were a professional
pornographer, I wouldn't be giving it away free on the internets!
It's funny, but I have never been curious about your way of earning a
living, nor do I ever think much about where you go on your trips. I do
find you very interesting (and of course a genius), but I don't have any
interest in trying to find out anything you don't volunteer. Actually,
except for my curiosity about Captive, that's kind of how I feel about
most of the people I like here. I do know a little more about some than
about others, and some of us may actually meet in Real Life at some
point, but things like actual names, or anything that hasn't been
volunteered somehow to me just doesn't exist.
Am I the only one who feels this way? Am I "Martha" or am I a real
person? One never knows, do one?
Martha, or "Martha"
> Take care, JOE
>This is REALLY, really good!
Thank you! I've written dozens of similar foot pain/abuse/deformity stories
over the years, that are just as long and intense as this one. But all of those
are handwritten. This is the only one that I've typed up on the keyboard.
> and HOT, too.
Well, I write all of my stories with the intent of making only ONE human
being "hot", and that is myself. :) I really never gave a thought as to
whether anyone else might enjoy or find eroticism in this, or any of the dozens
of stories I've written. I write them all with only one purpose, abd that is to
excite and thrill myself. I'm a narcissist, you know. :)
> I think you must be a
>professional pornographer <g>.
I don't discuss how I earn my money, therefore I cannot confirm or deny your
hypothesis. But if you think about it, you'll probably realize that this guess
of yours is somewhat unlikely to be accurate. :)
Take care, JOE
>Am I the only one who feels this way? Am I "Martha" or am I a real
>person? One never knows, do one?
>Martha, or "Martha"
That's similar to something I was pondering late one holiday night
while waiting for the asthma meds to kick in.
I'd been reading the Susan Smith book written by her ex, and it struck
me--he went through all those changes based on what he'd been_told_.
First, she told him she'd been hijacked, and he felt loving and
protective toward her, even though their marriage was over.
Then, the officials told him she'd lied and his boys were dead. He
went through all the grief/rage bit, which can kill you, or cause you
to kill someone else. He never saw his boys, it was closed casket.
He went through all these physiological/emotional changes based on
I've never been much of a liar, but how fascinating that you can
change someone's whole reality through words. "Sticks and stones" my
ass. Sort of makes one wonder about the stuff we've been told all our
>> >Dear Joe,
>> Hello Martha,
>> >This is REALLY, really good!
>> Thank you! I've written dozens of similar foot pain/abuse/deformity
>> over the years, that are just as long and intense as this one. But all of
>> are handwritten. This is the only one that I've typed up on the keyboard.
>> > and HOT, too.
>> Well, I write all of my stories with the intent of making only ONE human
>> being "hot", and that is myself. :) I really never gave a thought as to
>> whether anyone else might enjoy or find eroticism in this, or any of the
>> of stories I've written. I write them all with only one purpose, abd that
>> excite and thrill myself. I'm a narcissist, you know. :)
>Hey, Joe! Aren't we all!
I think that we all should be narcissists, but a great many humans are beaten
down by their society, and accept the messages of individual worthlessness that
their society seeks to brainwash them into accepting.
>By HOT, I meant that you capture the dominant/submissive (and I don't
>mean this in the way Captive does, not erotic over/under type thing)
>relationship that is central to great pornography.
Thanks! I do have my dominant side, when it comes to my foot fetish. It's
quite unusual, because the VAST majority of male foot fetishists are either
submissive or neutral. VERY few male foot fetishists are dominant or seek to
impose ANY type of pain or distress upon female feet.
>The Joe character in
>your story loves Marie and cares for her, but still forces her to do
>things that hurt her, for his sexual gratification.
Yes indeed. This is one major theme of some of my fantasies, but certainly
not all of them.
One of the MOST erotic scenarios in my mind involves a purely masochistic
woman who deliberately hurts and injures and causes herself foot pain,
specifically because she is a masochist and derives sexual/emotional pleasure
via the act of hurting her own feet. Most of those fantasy scenarios have NO
type of dominant attitude or actions on my part at all.
> And in the story,
>although we are aware that Marie is enduring terrible pain and
>humiliation, her love for Joe (and even more, her knowledge of his love
>for her) makes this OK--she's not really willing, but not really
>unwilling, either. At least that's what appeals to me about the story.
I appreciate your point. To me, the story have tremendous appeal, on MANY
different levels. But yes, the love aspect of the interaction between Joe &
Marie is one key element of the fantasy, that adds to mty excitement/enjoyment
when "playing out" the fantasy in my mind.
>Anyway, good job.
>> > I think you must be a
>> >professional pornographer <g>.
>> I don't discuss how I earn my money, therefore I cannot confirm or deny
>> hypothesis. But if you think about it, you'll probably realize that this
>> of yours is somewhat unlikely to be accurate. :)
>Oh, you know I was teasing.
I suspected you were, but was not 100% certain.
> For one thing, if I were a professional
>pornographer, I wouldn't be giving it away free on the internets!
>It's funny, but I have never been curious about your way of earning a
>living, nor do I ever think much about where you go on your >trips.
That is because you are a Well Washed human being, Martha. Unlike the vast
and fetid Unwashed Masses who infest this planet, as well as infesting the
Other Place. :)
>find you very interesting (and of course a genius), but I don't have any
>interest in trying to find out anything you don't volunteer.
I appreciate that very much. And thanks for feeding my hungry ego, by
confirming my "genius" status. :)
>except for my curiosity about Captive, that's kind of how I feel about
>most of the people I like here. I do know a little more about some than
>about others, and some of us may actually meet in Real Life at some
>point, but things like actual names, or anything that hasn't been
>volunteered somehow to me just doesn't exist.
I like your attitude and your style, Martha.
>Am I the only one who feels this way? Am I "Martha" or am I a real
>person? One never knows, do one?
>Martha, or "Martha"
I'm too much of a narcissist to ever spend time thinking about or trying to
figure out the real life truth about others. In fact, I have NEVER done a Deja
News author profile on ANYONE, not even my enemies, because I simply do not
care in the slightest who they are or what other NG's they frequent, etc...
Take care, JOE
I totally understand what you mean, but I want to think awhile before I
respond. It's kind of complicated and I want to get it right.
Dwelling on this question,
I feel the same way, Martha. Whatever people want to tell me
is OK and what they don't is OK too. Don't know how in the
world people can get so obscessed with this, don't they have a
real life? They poke and pry and carry on , sheeeshhhh. How
boring. Frankly, I know too many people already. :) (That's
a joke, but I do know a lot of people).
I'm quite sure that some of us will meet in real life but, if not,
so what? Have fun while we can.
Visit the Girl Gang Web Pages at
In many respects I agree with you both, I think we, as posters, show more of
who we really are than we would like to think.
On the other hand, I would like to know more about Joe (and many other people).
I'm nosey. But, I also respect his right & desire to maintain his privacy. I
feel that whatever anyone shares that is truly who they are is a gift they
choose to share and I wouldn't want to overstep..... Damn, I sound so P.C. it
Dammit. I want to know more about everyone. I've tried with Joe. No success
there. That's cool though. I'm nosey too, but, would not overstep either. I
wanna know !!!!!!!
@ Lovers come and go. The dogs are always faithful.
~ Lead me not into temptation. I'll find it myself.
It makes no dif to me. I think you're both great. Online personalities
Of all the online activities, I hope I meet you and Martha. Othewise, it's
all online stuff. Wanna meet Halle also. It's only newsgroups........LOL
Oh yeah. Nietszche (sp?) said in Beyond Good and Evil: "All pleasure
desires deep, deep eternity." I haven't been the same since I read
that, not that that would excuse any previous behavior or frenzied
dedication to bachelorhood, heh heh.
Insert rotating skull ANI GIF here
Remove NOSPAM* to replay
QA Analysis done from my home! http://members.aol.com/ManORuin/QA.html
Well, Martha, I've thought about this, and this is what I've come up with:
I take everybody totally at face value, and "make them into real people" based
on what they reveal in their posts. In other words, I take everything they say
about themselves as absolutely true, and then I fill in what's necessary from
my imagination to create a whole human being. So to answer your question: To
me, you're an absolutely real person, and so is everybody else here. And
you're partly of my making, and partly of your making.
But you're right -- One never knows. Unless we meet someday.
Getting a little shivery,
>Dammit. I want to know more about everyone. I've tried with Joe. No
>there. That's cool though. I'm nosey too, but, would not overstep either.
>wanna know !!!!!!!
Same here Michael. I'm always wondering what everyone looks like, cars they
drive, etc. I KNOW what everyone likes to eat. Same as me, that's why I'm here.
Really like my new friends,
Ford Tempo here, one of the ugliest cars I've ever owned, but hey, it is
very low maintanence. Don't carry any weapons tho, other than my big mouth
: ) I let my husband do all my dirty work. He's a big guy. Whenever I piss
someone off on the highway or out and about, I always think to myself,
"Sorry about that, follow me home if you want, let me introduce you to my
husband. He's my personal complaint department".
No gun here, PJ, but I drive a dark blue 94 Dodge Caravan, usually very
dirty. A little white paint on the front bumper from when the garage
door got in my way.
We have a '91 Buick Lesabre (maroon) and a '92 Jeep Cherokee (Black). Both
under 40,000 miles as we walk to work. We both have handguns. My Jeep has a
dented front fender when I hit the parking meter.
>No gun here, PJ, but I drive a dark blue 94 Dodge Caravan, usually
dirty. A little white paint on the front bumper from when the
door got in my way.
Acura Integra 91 blue of course ;-) no guns, just 2 ferocious, snarling with
their tails a waggin, terrior mixes.
>GMSpider wrote ...
>|In article <19980106051...@ladder01.news.aol.com>,
>|>Dammit. I want to know more about everyone. I've tried
>|>with Joe. No
>|>there. That's cool though. I'm nosey too, but,
>|>would not overstep either.
>|>wanna know !!!!!!!
>|>Michael. I'm always wondering what everyone looks like, cars they
>|>I KNOW what everyone likes to eat. Same as me, that's why I'm here.
>|>like my new friends,
>|Me too, PJ.. I drive a Buick. :) Pack a pistol, too so, don't try
>|to surprise Granny. :)
>Ford Tempo here, one of the ugliest cars I've ever owned, but hey, it is
>very low maintanence. Don't carry any weapons tho, other than my big mouth
>: ) I let my husband do all my dirty work. He's a big guy. Whenever I piss
>someone off on the highway or out and about, I always think to myself,
>"Sorry about that, follow me home if you want, let me introduce you to my
>husband. He's my personal complaint department".
Well, this year I'm driving a saturn wagon. Glas, my hubby is 6ft 5in,,,so
Ioften think the same thing. He can't fit into the car so, I always drive alone
PJ, 5 feet tall.
>No gun here, PJ, but I drive a dark blue 94 Dodge Caravan, usually very
>dirty. A little white paint on the front bumper from when the garage
>door got in my way.
Perfect!! That will be my next ride. Not only comfortable like the Buick, big
enough for my husband, and easy for the wheelchair. Hubby sell cars so I am
always getting someones trade-in and I joke to him that if the mini vans have
built in kid seats why dont they come with generic bumper stickers,,,,,,,MY
TERRIFIC KID WAS STUDENT OF THE MONTH AT______________. Then all people have to
do is fill in school name.
We have 2 Scotties and a mixed Chow Mutt. Steven gave the guns away when the
boys came to live with us. Didn't want any accidents. What mix are the
terriors Katie ?
Correction. We both *had* handguns until last November. Children in the house.
You're right. Also, around here, permanent fake bikes on the back, too.
PJ, who uses the chair? My daughter has a really big stroller (Convaid
Cruiser) which fits fine in the rear of the minivan (it's a grand
minivan) with room to spare. The Dodge/Plymouth ones are built a little
lower to the ground than the others, I think. Easier to get in and out.
I have a dog, too, Gretchen (whose picture is at
She is a French mastiff.
> You have a mastiff???? How are they size wise compare to an English Mastiff????
> whose largest dog weighs 8 pounds..... smallest is 4.5 pounds
Aw jeez, PJ, how could I forget? She's the little lady you let off at
the door, who waits while you go park in the handicap spot. I'm
sorry--my brain's all gone.
Two dogs: Dallas (the good dog), 7 years old, blue merle heeler
with a black eye patch; and April (the baaaaaad dog!!!), 6 years
old, black heeler with a few silver hairs. April has dog OCD or
something, and compulsively chases our goat along the fence,
snapping at his heels. Dallas once dug many holes under the
fence and framed April for it.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
To respond, remove "HICCUP" from dallym...@ptld.uswest.net
"That is, unless you'd like to try....THE CRUEL SHOES!"
>We have 2 Scotties and a mixed Chow Mutt. Steven gave the guns away when
boys came to live with us. Didn't want any accidents. What mix are
terriors Katie ?
Oh boy a chance to talk about "my children", thank you Michael. ;-)
Molly my oldest at 8 yrs is a Mini Schnauzer Mix and by far the QUEEN. My "son"
Rascal but most recently known by "buddy" is a cross between what I am not
sure. He has long hair like a collie that is a bit on the wirey side but his
face is broader across the forehead than most terriers. He is taller than
Molly, stands at about where is head is level with my knees. He has a very
**stately looking white chest on a tortoise like coat. Very handsome, but I'm
his mother and would say that.Problem right now is, he is a teenager and has
discovered that sprinkling thing and how much fun it is. Unless of course I am
I think it is interesting that so far we all seem to be *dog ppl...
Dallas sounds as rotten as our Missy mutt. The Scotties are very reserved and
gentlemanly, until dinner time when they turn into greedy, shelfish creatures.
They remind me of myself when it's feed time 8-D