Bossy boots

Erica almost squealed with delight when she first saw them in the shop window. Thigh-length, black leather, with a deliciously sexy-looking five inch stiletto heel and a horizontal strap and buckle across the top. The bright steel zip at the side gave them a real gothy look. They would go very nicely with the skimpy, short leather outfit that she wore on her dominatrix singing telegram jobs.

She rushed inside the shop brandishing her credit card.

Just over an hour later Erica burst excitedly through her apartment door, after placing the package carefully on the sofa she hurried into the bathroom, showered quickly, then into the bedroom and dressed herself in the sleazy, slinky, naughty-looking leather dominatrix outfit. The whip draped around her neck was too soft to do any damage to flesh, but it looked the part, and she wanted to get the full 'mirror-mirror on the wall' effect once she had the boots on.

She pasted her sultry look on her face, and slinky-walked her way back into the lounge, wearing something like this always had this effect on her, role playing was her bread and butter, and each outfit had its own look and walk to maximise the impact.

Erica took the boots out of the package and looked at them appreciatively. Caressed the smooth leather. Ran her fingertips up and down the shiny zips. Oh!... she was almost swooning.

Just inside the boot tops, whilst stroking the smooth, satiny lining, she discovered a tiny label that she hadn't noticed in the shop, a rather cool looking red devil's head logo encircled by the word “Servus” Not a brand she was familiar with but the boots were definitely top quality, the name had an Italian ring to it, and so was quite possibly a subsidiary brand of Gucci or Versace, or one of the other desirable makes.

Finally, no longer able to restrain herself, she slid her left foot into the first boot, it fit like a second skin. Taking a delicate hold of the zip she slowly pulled it upwards to the top, savouring every inch along the way. The boot fit her perfectly, as though it were tailor-made to suit every contour of her leg.

She slid her right foot into the second boot, and as she reached down for the zip it twitched...

Erica froze in alarm, not quite believing what she had just seen.

She sat still for a few moments, and had just about managed to convince herself that it was her imagination at play when it happened again...

Cold fear flooded Erica's whole being, she reached down and grabbed the boot in both hands, but before she had time to pull it from her foot the zip slid smoothly and rapidly all the way to the top.

With a snickery whisper the straps quickly threaded themselves through the buckles and locked themselves in place.

Erica panicked, screaming and thrashing, with fear-strengthened fumbling fingers she tried to pull the zips down, to unfasten the buckles, to bodily tear the leather from her legs, all to no avail.

Soon, she lay back on the couch, her energy spent. She took several deep breaths, and contemplated her predicament.

“There must be some logical explanation for this.” She told herself, in a rather unconvincing inner voice. “I must have pulled the zip up and fastened the buckles whilst daydreaming or something.” She said to herself, her inner voice becoming even less convincing with each word.

Remaining as calm as she possibly could, Erica tried again to remove the boots.

Each boot in turn, she took a firm hold of the zip, and pulled hard and steady. No movement at all.

She turned her attention to the buckles and straps. It was as though they had melded together with the boot material, there was no give in any direction.

Next she tried to slide the boot down from the top. It definitely felt just like a second skin now, as though it had been super-glued in place.

Fighting down the urge to vomit, Erica walked into the kitchen and took the scissors from the drawer. She would cut the damn things off then.

Try as she might, she could not force the blade of the scissors between the leather and her own flesh. After many unsuccessful attempts at various angles, she had managed to score several deep, and very painful scratches along her thighs, but made absolutely no progress towards removing the goddamn boots at all. She tried to cut off the straps, but again met with the same result.

Erica was sobbing uncontrollably now, she threw the scissors into the sink, and glanced feverishly around, looking for something else that may work.

Erica's gaze fell on the knife rack.

She pulled the very sharp carving knife from the rack, it had a thinner, wider blade, maybe that would help.

Before she could even try the knife, the boots set off walking of their own volition, taking Erica along with them.

Jerkily, and puppet-like, Erica was walked involuntarily towards the bedroom. She frantically grabbed the door frame on the way past, but was unable to resist, the boots were stronger than she was.

As she began to lose her grip on the door frame she tried to free up her other hand by dropping the knife, but it stuck to her palm as hard as the boots were stuck to her legs.

Erica's short walk ended up in front of the full-length mirror next to the wardrobe. With tears streaming down her face, she stared at her reflection, her mind refusing to take in what she saw.

The woman in the mirror brandished the knife with malevolent intent, and stared back with an unhinged maniacal look in her eyes, and a vicious sneer on her face.

Erica watched the reflection in terror as the right boot toe separated itself from the upper, baring rows of gleaming, sharp teeth. A forked crimson tongue flicked out.

“Hello slave.” The boot whispered raspily. “Welcome to your new existence. Now, let's go find someone to play with.”


©2019 Stephen. J. Green.