Pumps in the Park

In this Fetischichte I go for a walk with the Herr wearing 12 cm high heeled pumps in the park all day for him.

My encounters with the Herr have been of a very varied nature. There were days when I was in bondage almost all of the time. And others that we enjoyed together in the fresh air. I loved going out with the Herr when the weather was nice. And he loved laying out the right clothes for me. Yes, he put clothes out for me. Not always, but from time to time. Sometimes he also said that I should wear this or that underwear. Or he gave me a pair of high heeled pumps that he wanted to see on me. I liked that because he often gave me a little impulse with his selection. Like that one sunday. We wanted to enjoy the beautiful summer weather and I had chosen a beautiful dress with a floral pattern that the Herr had gifted me a short time before. I had hardly taken the dress out of the closet when the Herr reached into a drawer and pulled out a pair of beautiful new seamed stockings. “They go really well with it,” he said simply. That was his way of telling me: I think you’re beautiful in it.

The Herr was really good at that, making me feel beautiful. Many times he would get me to try on a dress in a store that I liked but wasn’t quite sure I could wear. He then made me walk up and down in front of the cabins like a model. If he liked the dress on me at that moment, he would simply take it to the checkout, pay for it and hand me the bag. That’s how he was. And so every now and then a nice piece of clothing ended up in my closet that I probably wouldn’t have bought on my own. But that I then put on often and gladly.

After I had properly fastened the beautiful stockings with a discreet garter belt, I turned around in a circle and showed myself to the Herr. “What shoes would the Herr like to see on me today?” I asked happily. And he opted for the mustard yellow suede pumps with the 12cm high heels. Not the easiest choice for a long walk, but I had let him decide. So I trusted that the Herr knew what to ask of me. And politely sat down on the chair in the bedroom so that, according to our ritual, he could put my shoes on my feet. I enjoyed that every time. The Herr knelt before me, took my right leg in his hand and gently stroked my leg and foot. Then he put the shoe on my toes and I slipped my heel into the pumps until the shoe was properly on my foot. We repeated the same with the other shoe. Without haste and with pleasure. Then I was ready to leave.

When we arrived the sun was incredibly beautiful. The park was bathed in a wonderful light. And we enjoyed the way. The Herr held my hand the whole time, as he did every time we walked together. In between, he sometimes grabbed my wrist, which sent a shiver down my spine. I often wondered if people noticed something like that. But considering that I had worn a wide leather collar with a very conspicuous metal ring several times while shopping without anyone noticing, that was probably not to be assumed. And if it was, I didn’t mind. On the contrary. The people should know that I belonged to him. I am his, like he always said. And he was proud of it. The Herr left no doubt about that.

So we walked through the sun along the gravel paths and beautifully planted rose beds. We saw one or the other passer-by who looked after us, well more likely me. That was still a strange feeling for me. I wasn’t really the attention-seeking type, but I thought it was great that people turned their heads to me. Although I still had to get used to the fact that people were staring at my legs. But as long as the Herr was there, I savored every pair of eyes that were on me. And I noticed that he, too, enjoyed holding my hand.

After circling the park at a slow pace, we found a park bench and took a break. I wanted to sit down and kick off my pumps. But the Herr interrupted me. “Wait..” he said and took out his camera. Then he started taking pictures of me. In the middle of the park. And I posed for him. Across the bench. Legs in the air, dress pulled up cheekily so the camera lens and anyone passing by could see my stockings. It was pure joy. You could also see that in the great photos, which I was allowed to look at directly while the Herr sat down on the bench next to me and started massaging my feet. The way he did it was such a blessing. I had already made a good stretch in the pumps with the high, thin heels. His strong hands were just the right thing. A real moment of pleasure.

After the break we walked a little further through the old houses in the park, where we discovered a beautiful door with a staircase in front of it, which was ideal for a second photo session. I really played my role as a model this time. Let my dress flutter in the wind and lifted my skirt so high that my black lace panties glared cheekily at the Herr. Then suddenly something quite unexpected happened. The Herr grabbed my wrist and pulled me behind him so fast that I had a hard time not tripping on the gravel path in my high heels. Luckily, the sprint only went across the square once to a waist-high wall that limited the wide path. “Come on, hop over there!” ordered the Herr and was already half over the wall himself. With his help I also climbed over the wide stones in my dress.

Just beyond the wall was a series of wide slabs laid before descending the embankment to a high hedge. I wasn’t quite sure what I was supposed to do there, but the Herr obviously had a plan. “Stand against the wall. Hands on top of the bricks.” he urged, gently twisting my hips so that I was facing the wall directly. And could enjoy the 360 ​​degree view of a few dozen people. I looked around. Nobody bothered that we were behind the wall. Then I suddenly felt the hands of the Herr under my skirt. And the next second… he had actually pulled down my panties. What the..? My eyes widened.

I was about to turn around, but the Herr whispered into my ear from behind. “Don’t move.” And I froze in the spin. In the next moment, the Herr had already slid onto the floor behind me. He deftly pushed my legs apart with his upper body, turned under my skirt and then pressed his face to me. I felt his tongue greedily on me. Our lips touched. He kissed me, sucked and licked me. I could barely stand. My hands clawed at the masonry. And I was struggling to control my expression. It was intense. The Herr was so demanding that the next minute my heart was pounding at full speed. I wanted to move a little, but the Herr‘s hands were tightly gripping my lower legs as he continued to lick me. It was pure lust literally flushing out of me.

I looked through my sunglasses at the people who passed me. Pressing my lips tightly together, I tried to fight the insane feeling. Short. Then I came. Violent. With a deep sigh.

I closed my eyes. Did I think that if I don’t see anyone, nobody will see me? I don’t know. It wasn’t important at the moment either. I preferred to concentrate on not fading with my weak knees and high heels. But there really wasn’t any danger. Because the next moment the Herr pulled me towards him, hugged me and kissed me passionately on the mouth.

The Herr had my panties in his pocket for the rest of the afternoon until we stopped at the small beer garden. And we both had my lust on our lips…

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