Lydia: A Prologue

Big Tits

It was a slow Tuesday afternoon at the Barneys New York where Lydia relaxed, sitting comfortably with her legs crossed at the knee while she sipped her Starbucks. For the last twenty minutes she’d been the only customer in the store’s famed designer shoe department, and while countless extravagant, beautiful things surrounded her and certainly drew her interest, she made no move to even turn her head, instead keeping her attention focused on the young, scrawny salesman doing his best to casually approach her.

He was timid, possibly new. His little skinny tie seemed too tight around his neck, but to his credit he looked Lydia in the eye and managed a smile. “Hello, how are you?” he genuinely inquired.

Lydia was wholly indifferent to his greeting. Her expression was entirely unchanged and her only reply was to give a slight jerk of her head to the right, letting the boy follow her eyes to a carefully constructed display.

“The suede Louboutins, size 8.”

Her voice was flat and firm, her statement clearly a command and not a request. The salesman stood there for a moment, blinking back his surprise, but eventually gave a little nod and a slightly forced smile before turning to briefly inspect the displayed shoe before disappearing into the back to seek out what this demanding woman desired.

Customers that routinely purchased thousand-dollar heels could be a touch eccentric and demanding, he had been told, and building a client base was important to the business and, more importantly, his own success as well.

He reemerged from the stockroom, resolved to satisfy this woman and make this sale. Lydia’s eyes were already on him, staring him down while he approached. “These are exceptional shoes, miss,” he began. “Five and a half inch heel with nearly an inch on the platform, and the beige suede really brings out that signature red sole.”

He seemed rather proud of himself as he lifted one of the extravagant stilettos from the box and offered it to his customer. His newly found confidence began to fade rather quickly, though, as she seemed wholly disinterested in taking it from his hands, instead taking another sip of her macchiato. It was only after a long, awkward moment that Lydia stretched her leg out, extending her black boot towards the flustered young salesman.

“Ah, miss, we… we don’t really…” he began, clearly unsettled by the bold expectations her simple gestures seemed to demand. Lydia’s only response, though, was to take another sip of her Starbucks and raise her eyebrows, and that was enough to express her impatience to the struggling boy.

If he couldn’t deal with self-entitled, rich women he’d never make it in this environment. What if she became a regular customer? Her towering ankle-length boots were Christian Dior; she clearly had a taste for extravagant and expensive footwear. The commission from a few loyal clients could build a brilliant beginning to his career.

Those were the thoughts running through his mind as he swallowed his pride and sunk to his knees at Lydia’s feet. His fingers began to manipulate the buckles of his customer’s boot, but despite his determination, the salesman couldn’t resist glancing up at her while he worked, perhaps for some sort of reassurance.

Lydia met his gaze. In fact, she was quite enjoying watching this little man give in to her so easily, though the only hint of her pleasure was the faintest beginnings of an amused smirk curling at the corner of her mouth. She let that grin spread the slightest bit more once his head had dropped once again, enjoying the sight of him delicately cradling her boot as he slid it off. Her toes stretched within her freshly-freed dark, rich stocking, and while the man turned to carefully set her designer boot aside, she recrossed her legs to offer him her other boot, letting those toes faintly brush his cheek as they moved.

The instant he felt her warm toes ankara escort touch the side of his face, the salesman took a sharp, indignant breath and jerked his head back to reflexively glare at the woman, but she was too occupied with pulling her phone from her bag and checking something on it while she waited for him to remove her other boot. He continued to glare, and she continued to easily ignore him, the only sign that she was still aware of his existence being a slight bob of her foot, drawing his attention back to the reason why he was on his knees in the first place.

The most faintly audible grunt left him as he started working the buckles of her second boot. The tapping of her fingertips on the screen of her iPhone let him know she was still too busy to pay attention, even as he slid her boot free and set it next to its mate.

He began unpacking the designer pumps, carefully unwrapping them and lifting the first from its box. The impulse to glance up at her struck again and his eyes slipped upwards. When he unexpectedly met her intense gaze instead of seeing her contentedly ignoring him as he expected, the slightest gasp passed his lips before his head dropped back down to focus on his work.

Lydia softly breathed as she watched the boy guide the immaculate shoe onto her eagerly awaiting toes, even letting a soft sigh of contentment leave her as her heel settled into the back of the pump and she experienced the rich, virgin leather yielding to the curves of her foot for the first time.

His eyes dropped for a moment to admire the elegant stiletto’s fit, and to this strange woman’s credit, it did look exceptional on her. Not everyone could pull off such imposing, tall heels but she seemed naturally suited for them. His eyes returned to meet Lydia’s, and she continued to stare him down, grinning faintly as she watched him struggle, knowing how unsettling being in her presence had become.

Lydia finally let her eyes drift downwards to admire the magnificent shoe. She slowly extended her foot towards the man, stretching out her leg. He made some little sound of shocked protest as the shoe he’d just slipped on for her approached and forced him to lean back to avoid it. This time he responded with an intense glare, letting indignance replace some of the timidness that had characterized their encounter to this point.

There was no mistaking how deliberate her actions were. Had he not moved, the crimson sole of her Louboutin would be resting directly on his face. For the moment, though, Lydia seemed entirely consumed with admiring the shoe on her foot, turning it this way and that as she observed it from every angle and giving not the first thought to how its underside hovered inches from the salesman’s eyes.

Maybe she really cared that little about his presence. Maybe she somehow delighted in making him progressively more uncomfortable. Either way he was going to say something and put a stop to this, but just as the words began to form on his lips, Lydia dropped her foot and finished uncrossing her legs, extending the stockinged toes of her other foot expectantly.

The salesman bit his lip and bent over her demanding foot, dutifully retrieving the matching Louboutin from its box. Even the way she slowly flexed and wriggled her toes seemed somehow insulting, but at this point he was going to see this thing through no matter what. No way he was going to let her put him through all of this and not make the sale. He cradled the sole of the shoe and guided it over her heel, then forced his most reassuring smile as he leaned back and looked the towering stilettos over now that they were on her feet.

“Stunning,” he began. “Absolutely stunning, Miss. I hope…”

His rather forced conversation lost its way very quickly as Lydia lifted her foot and let the platform sole of her shoe settle on the man’s shoulder. The awkward, stunned silence bahçelievler escort didn’t last for long, as she was eager to fill it with her own words.

“What’s your name?” she inquired, her first indication of the slightest interest in the salesman.

“Jonothan,” he reflexively replied, too taken aback by this woman’s ever increasing and unbelievable boldness to do anything else. Her playful grin broadened with his willingness to play along.

“These are beautiful shoes, Jonothan,” Lydia declared, shifting slightly and letting the suede-covered side of her platform sole faintly brush against the salesman’s cheek. Once again it wasn’t a necessarily intentional act, but at this point it was difficult for him to imagine anything she did was truly unintentional. “Don’t you think?”

He flushed immediately, struggling to find his voice to protest her actions and somehow respond, though Lydia was quick to fill the silence herself. “Of course they are. You’ve said enough already. So, let’s wrap this up. Go ahead and kiss my new shoes, and I’ll be glad to wear them out.”

This new suggestion left him utterly paralyzed with bewildered indignation. Lydia continued to wear her sweet, confident smile, lazily and faintly stroking his cheek with the side of her shoe as she waited for his reaction. He sputtered a bit, the muscles of his neck tensing as his head started to rapidly shake back and forth.

“Miss,” he began with as firm a voice as he could manage, though it still wavered somewhat as he tried to keep himself under control. “There is a line that you are dangerously close to crossing. The shoes are lovely, and I hope you choose to purchase them, but for now I must say good day.”

He took a deep breath, quite proud of himself for maintaining his professional composure, but all of that vanished swiftly as Lydia let out a soft, melodic, mocking laugh. Jonathan was already so flustered that it took him a long, awkward moment to even fully comprehend what Lydia was suggesting. His eyes darted sideways to glance at the more directly at the designer pump resting against the side of his face, then quickly back to the self-satisfied beauty sitting above him, lovely and smug as she could be. He could see the laughter behind her bright eyes, feel the burning mockery in her gaze. He’d had enough. He was still a man, and he could only be pushed so far. He pushed himself back, letting Lydia’s foot drop from his shoulder and settle on the ground as he rose back to his full height.

“Miss…” he began, speaking through gritted teeth.

“Here’s the thing, Jonny.” Her grin broadened, taking on a predatory air. “You’re about to make a choice about who you want to be. Are you aware of that fact?”

He blinked a few times, delaying his intention to turn sharply on his heel and turn his back on this frustrating, beguiling woman, though Lydia never intended for him to reply.

“See, you can either be the boy who humiliated himself purposelessly for the last hour and, I must say, offered quite a bit of highly inappropriate attention during my visit today, or you can be my new favorite regular salesman, earning the recommendation and appreciation of a frequent and loyal client. Isn’t that what your business is all about?”

The backs of Jonathan’s hands itched and his fingernails dug into his sweaty palms. Whatever color was still remaining in his face swiftly drained away and he stood there, staring into Lydia’s eyes although he was seeing less of her and more envisioning the security footage of their interactions and imagining the questions and concerns that a detailed review of that time could raise. How could she do this? How could a person even suggest the things she was demanding?

“Now, Jonny boy,” Lydia purred, leaning forward in her seat and resting her elbows on her knees as she continued to enjoy watching balgat escort the little man squirm. “Come here and kiss my shoes.”

Jonathan could clearly feel the sweat beading on his brow. His eyes shifted rapidly from left to right as he swallowed hard, uncertain whether he should be thankful or curse his luck that the department store’s shoe section had remained deserted save for him and his bizarre, demanding customer. He shook his head once, blinked a few times to try and clear his suddenly blurring vision, then let his gaze drift back to meet Lydia’s cold stare.

Her eyes were intense, but there was an underlying gleam that joined with her thin smile to give the sense that she was utterly amused by his predicament. Her eyebrows raised and she gave a faint jerk of her chin towards her feet, and with that Jonathan found himself taking a step forward.

Lydia’s smile only broadened as she watched the little salesman approach. She leaned back, lifting her chin from her hands and sitting fully upright to constantly meet his gaze as he drew nearer. Before long he stood before her, jaw trembling as he struggled to keep his breathing under control.

Lydia waited for a moment, letting him stand there, twitching and sweating while she gathered her things. Eventually, she slung her bag over her shoulder and rose to her full height, which, with the aid of her new towering stilettos allowed her to look down on her new little friend. She hoped he appreciated that added touch as much as she did.

“Go on,” she uttered, and even though there was a touch of irritation in her soft voice, the suggestion seemed encouraging enough. Jonathan sniffed once, glanced away for a moment, then let his eyes fall to the woman’s glamorously-shod feet as he started to lower himself to his knees.

“Mm,” Lydia breathed in a sensual sigh as she watched the trembling man lower himself at her feet. Breaking the resistance was always the most delightful and satisfying moment, though she watched with wide, expectant eyes, still thoroughly eager to see and feel his lips touch her shoes.

Jonathan took a deep, shaky breath and swallowed hard again as he leaned forward, bending his body and lowering his head towards the crazy bitch’s toes. Anger and disbelief pounded through his body as he squeezed his eyes tightly shut and felt his lips brush the rich suede of her shoe. In spite of all the protests his mind flung forth, he kissed it amidst some faint, girlish laughter from the devilish woman standing over him. It was a swift but firm kiss, and quickly he then sat back on his haunches and started to rise.

“Both!” Lydia snapped, her contented chuckling ceasing instantly and a sharp stomp of her spurned foot punctuating her demand. Her shoe’s heavy, lacquered sole struck the ground with a sharp smack, and though the sound was certainly noticeable, to Jonathan it was like a thunderbolt. Surely someone had heard and would be glancing around the corner or down the stairs any moment. His career, his income, his apartment all hung in the balance as he hastily and desperately flung himself at her second shoe, noisily kissing the lush fabric covering her toes in a blind panic.

Before he could look up to see if this wicked woman was satisfied, something fell to the floor by Jonathan’s head. Two cards, one plastic and one paper lay next to Lydia’s new shoe. One was absolutely familiar, an American Express card, but he had to pick up the other to recognize it for what it was.

“Lydia?” he quizzically inquired, reading the name from the card aloud and the following address silently before looking up, but by then she was already turning, her towering heels clicking sharply on the tile as she walked away.

“I have places to be, Jonny boy. Bring my Diors and the card tonight; I’ll expect you at nine.”

And with that, she was gone. Jonathan looked at the cards in his hand and blinked a few times, forgetting for a long moment to even rise from his knees while he tried to piece together what had just happened to him. After a while, he gathered the woman’s discarded designer boots, tucked them into a bag, took her credit card and rang the sale and was left to wander through the rest of his work day in a fog.

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