It had not been the first time Mr. Algernon Percey had been complimented for his expensive attentions, and it certainly wouldn't be the last.  It was extraordinarily British of him to turn aside the praise with an icy stare.<br/><br/>"It was certainly nothing, Ms. Morris," he said in his almost acrylic English accent.   "Though it is popular to believe that it is difficult for a man to find shoes for a woman, nothing can be further from the truth.  It's so simple it's sublime.  First, I imagine whether or not I could see the shoe straddling your ankles, hanging on desperately during intercourse.  I think of the heel scraping me across my chest, of arresting your heels with my grasp, and of a number of other things.  To put it succinctly, I wonder if you'd look good wearing it while we fornicate.  Then, I purchase the most expensive shoe that fulfills my very base instincts."<br/><br/>"But sometimes, I admit, the perfect shoe doesn't match the perfect dress.  So my mind assembles the two upon the mannequin of a Greek goddess.  And there you are, Artemis, the living embodiment of what is divine and exquisite."  Algernon momentarily looked over her curves, appraising them.   "Ah, Ms. Morris, sometimes I wonder how many people have fallen in love in your temple.  In fact, the thought consumed me so much that I sought release with whomever struck my fancy just now.  That you would have sex with me at dinner, well, I shall take your word upon it."<br/><br/>"For this party that your mark is hosting is an S&M party," he said with a smirk.   "It would have been amusing to see you awaken dressed as a kink-doll, however, but you wouldn't have been as charmed."