For the tenth time Tina try working the knife into the space between her skin and the boot. Correction: the space that should have been between her skin and the boot. And for the tenth time Tina made no progress whatsoever. The knife would not fit. The space did not appear.
Though she hoped against hope that she’d see progress, she knew her efforts were futile. You really fucked up this time, you stupid bitch, she thought, tossing the knife aside. Why, oh why did I have to get so fucking wasted last night?
After all, her plan had been simple. It was something she’d wanted to do to Hillary for some time. Something she figured the girl would be waking up to about now . . ..
Hillary was Tina’s friend and something of a pain in the ass all at the same time. Where Tina was short and cute, Hillary was tall and sleek. Tina was somewhat cautious, Hillary was adventurous. Tina had trouble getting dates, while Hillary had to beat people away with a stick. And what Tina saw as a real quandary in their relationship, Hillary always dressed sharp, whereas people commented that Hillary seemed to always dress like a slut on the make.
It was only after Hillary made the comment about Tina’s boots that Tina decided something needed to be done. What remained to be seen, but Tina would think on the matter and scheme a bit and see if there wasn’t something she could do to maybe make her best friend Hillary a bit of a slut in her own way—
When Tina had heard about the “Everlast” Boots, she at first had thought it was a joke. Boots that stay on forever and never wore out? It couldn’t be true. But after a little investigating, she’d discovered it was. Someone in Europe had come up with a way of bonding not only boots, but shoes, dressed, gloves--just about anything a person could dream up—to an individual’s body. And they would stay there, becoming a part of the person’s features. It was a pretty wild concept, but as Tina was discovering, a lot of people were into the idea of having something like a latex suit not only become part of their body, but to, in a sense, become their new skin.
She called the maker and asked them if it was possible to make just about anything. They told her it was.
And that got Tina to thinking . . ..
The plan was one of simplicity: go to the party with the new boots in a box and somehow get Hillary to put on this pair (Tina knew she’d be wearing boots because she’d ask Hillary if she would), instead of the pair she’d worn . . . okay, so Tina knew there were a few details to work out. But she thought she could do this.
What was working in her favor was the party was as Rei’s place. Rei was Japanese, and like a lot of Japanese she always had people take their shoes off as they entered the house. Most of the time the shoes—and boots—were deposited in a side room, one that sometimes wasn’t all that well lit . . . ah, yeah, thought Tina. That was the place to do the switch-er-roo.
Tina showed up early—well, earlier than Hillary. She removed her boots and removed the Everlasts from their box, then placed both in a corner out of the way of where everyone else might put their shoes. Then she ditched the box (not hard to do, just had to ask Rei where her trash went) and then waited for Hillary to put in her appearance.
And while waiting for Hillary Tina began to partake in a few drinks—
She didn’t even know Hillary had arrived until the girl came up and gave Tina a hug. By that time Tina was half way into her third Bloody Mary, and had just returned from a trip upstairs where a few people had split a blunt. Tina and Hillary cheek kissed, complemented each other on their outfits, and then went their way.
Tina didn’t see much of Hillary the rest of the party. She was too busy getting her high on, and between the booze and the pot was feeling no pain when she headed back to where the shoes were being stored and hid Hillary’s boots so she could give her the Everlast. She couldn’t wait to see Hillary stuck in these six-inch babies knee highs, forever looking like some fetish queen. God, she was going to be so pissed—
“Hey, Tina, what ya doing?”
It was Marty, an old friend of hers and someone she’d dated off and on for the last couple of years. “Hey, Marty,” Tina half-slurred. “Not much, just sorta—“
Marty moved in closer, then took Tina in his arms. “Ain’t seen you around much,” he said, rubbing her back gently.
“Naw, I been busy.” Tina leaned on his chest and moaned appreciatively. She always enjoyed having your back rubbed.
Marty gave her a quick yet passionate kiss, then said, “Hey, the master bedroom is just over there. Why don’t we . . ?” He let the question trail off, knowing Tina understood where he was going.
Indeed Tina did. “Yeah, sure,” she mumbled. “It’s been a while for me. I could use it.”
They’d taken only a couple of steps when Marty mumbled, “Put your boots on. I always like it when we fuck while you’re wearing them.”
Tina nodded, smiling. There was something about having her boots on when she was having sex that really, really got her turned on like crazy. She backtracked, slipped her boots on, zipped them up, and began removing her dress as she hurried after Marty.
Twenty minutes later Marty was pulling himself off and removing his condom. Tina lay on her back, naked except for her boots, relaxing in the afterglow of her own orgasms. She’d missed this kind of raw, out and out fucking, and to just thrown abandon to the wind . . . “Oh, that was great,” she mumbled, trying to stay awake. The last thing Tina wanted was for Rei to walk into her bedroom and find her passed out and naked.
“Yeah, you still got it,” said Marty, fastening his belt. “Even when you’re a little out of it.”
“Fucking high is always great,” she replied. “I don’t remember the last time I did it like this—“
“Maybe because you were high?” Marty laughed. “I’ll see you back in the party.” He slipped out the door, leaving Tina behind.
Tina rolled off the bed and retrieved her dress from the floor. It was only after she started to dress that she thought something seemed . . . well, out of whack. Not right. What it was she wasn’t sure, but if she turned some lights on then maybe—
Smoothing out her dress Tina looked around the room. Nothing strange here. She walked into the master bathroom and flipped on the light. Hair was a little messed and her makeup needed a bit of a touch up, but other than that . . . still the same.
Tina began to step away from the mirror, and it was then that she was struck by something funny . . . Tina had been in her before, a couple of times, and since the last time Tina had used the master bath Rei must have done something, because it seemed as if her reflection were closer to the top, like the mirror had been moved down—
Or, as the shock hit Tina, she’d grown a couple of inches!
“Oh, shit, no!” She looked down. Sure enough, the boots she had on were not the ones she’d come in. The heel was different—and much higher.
Like six inches high.
Tina stepped into the shower and adjusted the spray. She let the water wash over her body, coating all of it in a fine mist. Well, maybe not all of it . . . Tina looked down and saw once more how the water beaded and dribbled down her black booted lower legs and feet.
The last six months found Tina going through a radical change. First off came having to live with her mistake and understanding that for the rest of her life she’d be confined to six inch heeled boots. The first couple of days after Rei’s party she’d done everything she could think of to remove them, even contacting the manufacture and explaining that she’d put a pair on by mistake and that she was looking for release. The company said there was nothing they could do: in the last year not one person had ever “accidentally” put their product on, and they found it hard to understand how Tina could be the only person. They danced around the possibility that maybe Tina had been planning to use their product on someone else without their consent—which, if it were true, could have regrettable legal consequences . . ..
Then there was learning to live in them. Walking wasn’t a problem, but showering and sleeping in them—Tina spent most of the next three days getting used to that. Showering wasn’t a problem as water was designed to bead off the material, and the boots keep the skin underneath healthy and clean. Sleeping was different story: trying to sleep with her feet permanently arched by six inch heels made getting relaxed difficult. Finally, though, Tina was able to sleep, if for no other reason she was exhausted from going a couple of days without.
Then, a week later, Tina was fired from her job. She’d expected that on, actually, since the people she worked for were rather conservative, and having a pretty girl going around all day in six inch heels didn’t quite fit their profile. The good thing, however, was that since they weren’t looking to be sued, the compensation package Tina was given was more than adequate enough to keep her on her feet (so to speak) for three years before she’d need to find another job.
It was that “find another job” part that became somewhat problematic, however. When Tina arrived for an interview conversation inevitably turned to her choice of footwear—and a lot of companies had trouble understanding why any woman serious about working would want to be bonded to . . . well, footwear so unsuited for the office. Just about everything ended up being a “Don’t call us; we’ll call you” sort of situation.
After a couple of months of rejection Tina was at her lowest ebb. Yes, she’d intended for this to happen to Hillary, but now, after all the shit she’d been through, she was sort of glad that it had all happened to her instead. It was cathartic in a way: the karma of Tina’s actions coming back to smack her on the ass and show her the error of what she’d tried to do to another person. With that in mind, Tina accepted that she’d fucked herself, and started to live with her new life.
Surprisingly, a couple of days after she’d made peace with herself she received a call. It was a modeling agency located in LA. They’d discovered that Tina was wearing a very unique pair of Everlast boots, and if she was interested they had a job for her . . ..
Tina ran her fingers through her wet hair, then let them fall to her newly-expanded ass. The modeling firm she was now contracted to, Eros, was turning her into one of the more sought after fetish models in the world, and Tina had also come to realize that in order to keep her edge she needed to change other things—like her body. Two months ago her ass had been enlarged. In a couple of months she’d be getting a breast enhancement that was going to make her one busty looking girl in latex. Then it would be her lips, her nose, and then . . ..
She sighed as she cleaned herself. She needed to make these changes; the nature of the business demanded it. And, in a way, Tina knew she had to be the best she could at this business. After all, she had about ten, fifteen years to make her fortune. After that age would prevent her from the top paying jobs, and she’d have to retire and settle down.
Tina didn’t mind. She knew it was her karma. She was going to be the Fetish Queen of this business—there was no stopping her. Which was why she’d decided last night to make the video . . . the one where she’d be bonded into the new “Everlast Living Corset”, a leather corset that would not only become part of her body, but would, in time, contract her waist to a pre-determined size and keep it that way for the rest of her life.
How good do I want to be? Tina thought. How small do I want to go? 20 inches? 18? 16? 16 inches would look so good on my body--