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Did you know that Christian Louboutin and Givenchy have some real shockers in their collection? No, well, neither did I until a gift box containing a pair of each turned up at my Mayfair apartment and is now part of my collection. Regarding shoe and foot fetishes, I treat myself to the best of my clients. Some of my dearest clients know this well and want to treat me, too. However, they don't always get it right...

Greg, a 41-year-old investment banker who is sweet, good-looking looking and filthy rich, has a huge foot fetish. We have been on about five dates, and each one, he has had numerous pairs of shoes couriered over for me to enjoy wearing and he to enjoy drooling over. Up until now, he has got it spot on, and he loves this fetish escort enough to keep seeing me. He hasn’t even sent his PA to Gucci or Prada to shop up a storm. He has picked out the strappy sandals himself, and my gratefulness has indeed shown when we have enjoyed our evenings at the Knightsbridge hotel he practically keeps residence at. 

Greg and I have found different ways to flirt with each other in each of our meetings. I am starting with dinner or drinks in the best establishments. I have dressed to suit my fabulous peep toe Chloe wedges and used my newly pedicured feet to full advantage. When it comes to shoe and feet fetishes, he's at the top of the list. My feet can work him into a frenzy of despair at being unable to move for quite a while as I hike my pretty toes out of there and wait for him to follow. 

Unfortunately, I know I haven’t done anything wrong, as I ripped open the familiar packaging and pulled the leather gems from their shoe bags. I could see that the crepe platform satin sandals with the distinct red heels and the biker glitter platforms of Hubert were just the most hideous footwear known to womankind. No shoe or feet fetishes will be satisfied with these things. What would my feet think they had done wrong to be slipped into such monstrosities? My poor French polished tootsies would believe I was punishing them in some way. And I don’t know Greg well enough to ask him whether he had a stroke whilst purchasing the offending items. 

I have had to use my powers of persuasion and feminine London escort charm to convince him that we don’t need to go out in these shoes. We need to share them in the comfort of his rented accommodation because these boots weren’t made for walking…in public!

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