This is the first story of a series, but not the first in chronological order. It's the first I write, and it remains somewhat unique in the panorama of our experiences. It's the adaptation of one of the entries of my private diary, which I decided to turn into a story as part of a larger project that would see the diary gradually translated into a narrative that can be enjoyed by others too.
What follows is therefore a recollection of real events. If you are looking for an extreme story with tortures, complex devices and endless streams of orgasms, you'll have to look elsewhere. We are a relatively new couple, both new to bdsm when we first met. We started dating a little over a year ago, with the intend of exploring soft D/s, but only a vague idea of what that would entail. We quickly discovered a world very different of what we had imagined, full of nuances we had never expected. It all started last spring, but the events of this chapter take place in Paris, our first city-break, during November of last year. I, Vinile, am the narrator and the D of the couple. Egle, my dearest other half, is the Lithuanian girl standing barefoot on the steps on Montmartre.
It's mid-afternoon of a warm November day. The sunlight is washing over Paris, painting the hazy landscape of a golden tint. It's our first full day in Paris after we landed yesterday evening at CdG, and we decided to take advantage of the good weather to visit Montmartre. We had spent good part of flight to discuss plans for today. Where to go, what to see. Tourist stuff. But sitting on the plane, near a teenager too intent to listen to her music to pay attention to us, we had also discussed our other plans, like we used to call them. We would walk from our hotel to Montmatre and there, somewhere along the route, EglΔ will take off her shoes and spend the rest of afternoon in her bare feet. I like to have her walk barefoot for me, something we often indulge in when going for a forest walk, but that has never happened in public. Life in a small town grants little to no privacy, and even something fairly innocent as a barefoot stroll can raise eyebrows (at least it can where we live).
Paris on the other hand, is awash with anonymity. Anonimity and full exposure - something we had planned to take full advantage of! I've always dreamed of seeing EglΔ walk barefoot in public, and I wanted the transition from shoes to bare feet to be public too. And I couldn't think of a better place than the stairs of Montmatre. We were acting like perfect tourists. Talking pictures, deciding where to have our first Parisian dinner (well, technically seconds, but a sandwich on the train on our way to the hotel doesn't really qualify as "dinner"). We were real tourist, no different than the thousand of other people surrounding us that day.
Once on the stairs, I told EglΔ to pose on for a picture then, after taking a few regular shots, I told her to take off her shoes.
