The next several hours were much as they used to be. Isabella (finally) seemed satisfied with rocking in my lap and got up to cook for us. It was then that I finally noticed that something was missing from the room.

“Where’s the little toe-slayer?” I asked.

“Buster?” Isabella looked around a bit, as if she was looking for him as well. “I don’t know. Did I do something to him as well?” Her voice had a sad, tight squeak to it.

“He’s fine,” Brandr informed us. “He was with the goblins earlier. I think they were trying to get him to play with the weak ones. I do not understand their language, so I cannot guarantee what they were attempting to accomplish, but he was fine. Somehow, I believe the goblins have decided it must be a mighty beast to stay with us, and since no one has been able to harm it, it must be our God. At least that is how their behavior comes across to me. It seems as if they are worshipping Little Buster.

“I do not know if they are attempting to bring the weak ones to his attention so that he may fix them, or if they are trying to offer the weak ones to him as a sacrifice so that he may breed with, or feed upon, them. Either way the weak ones don’t seem to care and Little Buster is simply interested in trying to bounce and play. It is but a puppy and has no thoughts of breeding yet, and I believe it prefers the taste of fruitcake rats to any flesh of people.”

“Phew!” Isabella giggled lightly as she fried some of the goblin’s mushrooms in the kitchen for us. “I was worried I’d did something to the little guy. It’s a relief to know that he’s fine. I would’ve hated to have been responsible for hurting him or chasing him off somehow!”

Hurt him?! She killed me, and no one said they hated that! TWICE! And was I the only person who seemed bothered by the idea that the goblins might try to breed the two girls with Little Buster? It didn’t seem like either of the girls were the slightest bit concerned that the goblins might be trying to produce some sort of Buster-babes!

All I could do is shake my head and wonder at just how screwed up the world I was living in now, has became. If they’re not going to think about it, or be bothered by it, then I’ll be damned if I’m going to fret over it either. They’re not actually my slaves, so they’re not technically my problem – or truly my business. They belong to Isabella. I guess if she wants to breed them sometime, she can.

Just not with me.

Breakfast was a peaceful meal, with Isabella sitting snuggled in my lap and Brandr doing her morning stretches and exercises. As oddly as it was, Brandr wasn’t completely naked in the room this morning. She was wearing, stretching, and practicing in a pair of those red and white high-heels that Santa had in its bag. In fact, now that I think about it, Brandr always seemed to have a pair of those heels on anymore.

Since I was beginning to think they might be some sort of cursed item, like you see in some games, I finally decided to ask about them. “Brand,” I asked curiously, “is there some reason why you’re always wearing those shoes now?”

“Yes,” was her full reply as she continued stretching.

Sighing, I pressed a little more directly for an answer. “And can you…” Wait. That’d probably just get me a ‘yes’ as well if I asked ‘Can you tell me what that reason is?’

Coughing, I decided to try once again. “Tell me why you’re always wearing them, then, if you will.” Trying to talk to Brandr is sometimes a difficult task. I don’t want to be rude and demanding, but if you ask her a question politely, she won’t always respond in the way you expect. I could just imagine asking, ‘Do you want to tell me why you’re wearing them all the time?’, and getting a response like, ‘If my Lord wishes to know.’

“I wear them because my Lord likes them,” was her response. I couldn’t deny it and say that they didn’t look god on her, but I’d never intended for her to wear them all the time. Isabella giggled lightly, and somehow I had a feeling that she might be involved in the misunderstanding somehow. I swear, I don’t think I’ll ever understand the relationship between those two. Sometimes they get along with each other like they’re the best of friends, and at other times they act like they’re half a step away from killing each other. Are they friends? Or foes? Or foely-friends? Friendly-foes?”

Damned if I know!

“Izzy.” I said while tapping my foot lightly and listening to her giggle. “By chance, was you the person who told Brand about how much I enjoyed seeing a woman in nice, sexy heels?”

She just giggled and then wiggled her gigantic breasts in my direction. “Maybe,” she admitted.

“Maybe?”

She just giggled and tried to distract me with her body as she swayed seductively. “I think I might have mentioned it once. A little.” She fluttered her eyelashes at me and tried to pooch out her lower lip in an innocently seductive way.

Coughing slightly, as a smile crossed by lips as an idea hit me. It was probably too late to convince Brandr not to wear them now, without just giving her a direct order or something, so why not go the other way. “Brand, sweetie. Come here for a bit.” I patted my lap and leaned back in my chair.

Without asking why, she snapped out her stretching, came over, and sat directly in my lap. Gently, I lifted her arms and placed them around my neck, and then I leaned forward and kissed her soundly and passionately. And I didn’t stop there – I continued to kiss and stroke and passionately caress her, until my man-sword proudly reached for the heavens once more and sheathed itself inside her warm, soft womanliness.

While she was rocking up and down slowly in my lap, enveloped tightly in my passionate embrace, Brandr asked lightly, “Is my Lord that full of energy this morning? Did I not do a good job last night?”

She sounded almost sad, and I had to laugh lightly and kiss her. “Oh no, that’s not it at all my Blade,” I told her. “I was simply moved by seeing how much more you loved and cared for me than Isabella did, and it moved me to wanting to show you my affection. After all, look at her – she knows how much I enjoy seeing a woman in a nice pair of sexy heels, and yet she never wears any. Always barefoot, never letting me enjoy my little fetish like you do.

“It’s obvious you’re the one who loves me the most, Brand, and when I realized that I was just moved to have to return that feeling to you!”

Brandr made a slight ‘O’ look with her face and then leaned up and kissed me passionately as she started to rock a little more vigorously in my lap. Isabella’s giggles had stopped and she was now staring daggers at Brandr’s back. Somehow, that made the moment even more erotically exciting, and I ended up pushing Brandr back down to the floor so I could indulge myself fully in the passion she was so earnestly sharing.

I’d been drained too many times that morning to continue for long, so it was only about a half hour later or so before I rolled over onto my back on the floor and Brandr rolled on top of me, intertwining the arms and legs around mine. She was so truly flexible; I doubt words could describe what being wrapped up in her passionate embrace was like. And with her softness and the ease of which we she responded with her heightened level of sensitivity. And then add in her desire to simply please and do whatever I wanted…

She truly was a man’s dream when it came to indulging the primal side of his passion.

Smiling, I stretched and looked back as my hand tapped against something behind me. Isabella was standing there slightly behind our heads and looking down at the two of us, and slowly she lifted up one foot to hold it in front of my face. For a moment there, I thought she was going to stomp on me!

Instead, she turned her ankle left and right to show off the red and white heels she was wearing. “See, I love you too,” she told me through the party chat.

I blinked a few times, and then remembered that this whole mess had started simply because I was getting even with her for convincing Brand to wear the shoes all the time. I guess I’d gotten too wrapped up in the moment and had forgot all about it.

Smiling, I held open my arms and Isabella quickly laid down and snuggled up with us both. Brandr was already asleep again – I don’t know if it was me that wore her out, or the endless orgasms which she seemed to have every time we got passionate, but she almost always went to sleep after a little time together. I would’ve moved her to one side to make a little more room for Isabella, but I couldn’t this time. Brandr had wrapped her arms and legs around me, much like a snake curls around its prey, and I was trapped in her arms while she slept.

The best I could do is offer an arm and shoulder to Isabella, but she snuggled up tightly to them and seemed content to just lay there with us.

I don’t guess I could truly say either girl was naked now. They both had a nice pair of stilettos one, at least!

Life is a strange thing sometimes. Honestly, I don’t think much about feet or shoes at all. I’m much more of a “breast and bottom” type of guy – I like the curves of a woman. But, after this case, I really am taking on some strange appreciation to high heels. Ever since Isabella changed, the three of us have been kind of distant and apart. First it was Brandr and me, then Isabella and me, but there was a visible space between the two of them.

But now?

Now, we were all snuggled up and one tight family again. I won’t pretend that everything is better, or that we’re all perfect with each other, but for now at least, we’re all together again. And that’s an excellent thing, in my opinion. Hearts can’t mend, if the flesh stays torn apart all the time. Our bodies are back together again, and in a little time I’m certain everyone’s hearts will be as well.

I’ve never really thought too much about shoes before, but I really like these.

These heels, heal.