This is my first attempt at "erotic" fiction. It is a fairly simple story. There really are no disclaimers.
Brian was shopping for a new pair of jeans. He had grown tired of the cheap junk sold at the big-box outlets. Their clothes never seemed to last more than a month. So, he decided to try that large apparel shop, down on Main Street. Sure, he would pay more. But hopefully, he would also get more.
Main Street was ominously deserted. The mega-marts and super-stores had killed-off most of the downtown mom-and-pop businesses. Even the clothing store appeared eerily empty. There were but three people inside, and they were all employees—two men and a woman. Now, as Brian looked around, he saw only women’s clothes. He feared that this had been a wasted trip. At that point, one of the male employees noticed Brian’s confusion, and approached. “Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for a pair of men’s jeans”, Brian muttered, while still glancing around.
“They’re right over here. Follow me!” This employee was rather casually dressed, as were his two coworkers. He led Brian to a side wall, where numerous shelves held jeans of every size and brand. “Do you know your size?”
For too long, Brian had been buying cheap garments that only came in “Small”, “Medium”, “Large”, and “Extra Large”. He had almost forgotten how to purchase pants in numbered sizes. “I think it’s this one”, he said, pulling a pair from the shelf.
“Well, if you want to make sure, our fitting rooms are right over there.” The employee pointed toward a couple curtained cubicles at the back of the store.
In the fitting room, Brian saw an unusually-large, white, shoe box on the bench seat. It had no tag, no brand, no markings of any kind... People are always leaving stuff in these rooms, he thought to himself. He pushed the box to the side, sat down, and proceeded to remove his shoes.
Once in his new jeans, he checked the fit in the mirror. They looked and felt just right. Still, to be sure, he took a walk around the store, while in the jeans and his stocking feet. “Find everything you need?”, the female employee asked.
“I was just checking to make sure these fit OK”, Brian replied.
“They do look good on you”, she commented, trying not to let-on that she was admiring his butt.
Once back in the changing room, Brian could not resist the temptation to peek into the mysterious white shoe box. There, he discovered a pair of lady’s black-leather boots. These were not just any boots! The leather was incredibly butter-soft and supple. Its sweet aroma filled the changing room. With their four-inch stiletto heels and pointed toes, these had to be the most awesome lady’s boots that he had ever seen. He began pulling one of them from the box—finding that he needed to reach quite high, to reveal the whole thing. The shaft of this boot had to be close to three feet tall!
Brian set the foot of the boot on the floor, while laying its top on the bench next to him (yes, it really was that tall). He planned to put it back in its box, once he had dressed. However, as he removed his new jeans and folded them, he noticed something surprising. That boot appeared to be his size! One his shoes happened to be sitting next to it, making comparison easy. Suddenly, he could not resist the enticement. He had to try-on these boots! “What could it hurt?”, he thought to himself.
While still in his underwear, Brian examined the boot. It had no zipper on the side or back. Nor, were there any laces. It appeared to be a straight pull-on. So, he began slipping his right foot into the boot. His foot slid-in easily, as the boot was lined with the softest, smoothest, yellow pigskin. Still, it took some time to work his foot down the great distance to the bottom. When his heel finally popped into place, he found the boot to be quite comfortable. Quickly, he pulled the other boot onto his left foot.
Brian fought for balance, as he hobbled to the mirror. Tall stiletto heels were a new experience for him. Truly, these boots were far more amazing than he had imagined. He became instantly enamored with the reflection in the mirror. The tops of these boots reached all the way to his crotch. And, their incredible leather was astonishingly shiny and supple. Yet, the boots never bunched or sagged. Nor, were they stiff. They perfectly hugged every contour of his legs. He began to caress the luxurious leather on his thighs—getting himself seriously aroused. It wasn’t until he noticed the bulge in the front of his underwear, that he forced himself to stop.
However, when he sat down to remove the boots, he found that their snug leather made it nearly impossible to bend his knees. He had to stretch to reach his ankle, and pull at the first boot. But, in that position, he had no leverage. He could not get the boot to budge! The same was true with the other boot. He began grunting and groaning in frustration. There seemed to be no way out of these boots!
The female employee heard Brian’s groans, and came to see what was happening. “Are you a
ight in there?”, she called through the curtain.
Brian peeked around the room’s veil. The look on his face was one of utter humiliation. “I need your help.” The tone of his voice was deadly serious.
The lady clerk feared that she was dealing with yet another pervert. Still, she was hardly prepared for the sight that awaited her. “Whoa!”, she exclaimed, as she entered the fitting room. Here was a man in his underwear, wearing women’s crotch-high, shiny, black-leather boots, with lofty stiletto heels.
“I... I can’t get them off!”, Brian stammered. He stuttered and hesitated, as he tried to explain how he had ended-up wearing them in the first place. He then sat down, and showed her how he been unable to pull his feet free.
The woman let out a sigh. “Don’t sweat it, Hon. This ain’t nothin’ unusual. I have a boyfriend who likes wearing women’s heels around the house.” She directed Brian to hold his right foot out-straight. “Problem is, you’re pinching the leather when you bend your knee. It’s no wonder you can’t get them loose. You need a boot-jack if you’re gonna wear really-tall boots like these.”
Brian tried to explain that the boots were not his—that he had found them in the room.
“Bet you won’t try that again!”, she snickered, as she began tugging on the right boot.
Yet, no matter how hard she pulled, the boot would not budge. No luck with the left boot, either. She examined the boots for a hidden zipper. There was none. “How did you get these on?”, she asked. “Never mind. We need to head over to the shoe department, where we’ll have more room to work.”
Brian followed the woman across the store. The clicks of his stiletto heels on the hard floor, echoed off the walls. As they reached the shoe area, Brian heard a loud wolf whistle. “NICE BOOTS!” It was the male employee who had helped Brian when he had first arrived.
“Shut up, Robbie!”, the woman exclaimed. “No one asked your opinion.” As she turned back to Brian, her voice took a more friendly tone. “My name’s Linda, by the way.” She held up her name-tag for Brian to see. “This loudmouth fool is Robbie. And, that’s Scott.” She pointed to the third employee, who was now walking toward them, to see what the commotion was about. She then turned back to Robbie. “Why don’t you make yourself useful. Try to get these boots off of this poor man!”
Brian sat down, as Robbie began tugging on the right boot. But, Robbie only succeeded in dragging Brian from his chair. Robbie now directed Scott to hold onto Brian, as he yanked. Somehow, the boots responded, by becoming brutally tight. Brian’s foot went numb, as his hip joint started to ache from the strain. “STOP!”, Brian cried-out in pain.
Robbie threw up his hands. “I don’t know! They must be locked, or something.” This last remark drew cold stares from his two coworkers. “Whatever. Guess you’ll just have to wear ‘em home.”
“I can’t afford anything like this!”, Brian pleaded.
“Those aren’t ours” Linda commented. “We don’t sell anything near that nice!”
“In that case...”, Robbie interjected, as he grabbed a box cutter.
“Oh no, you don’t!”, Linda exclaimed, stepping between Robbie and Brian. “You two no-class animals wouldn’t think twice about ruining such a gorgeous pair of boots! Besides, you’d cut the hell out of this man’s leg.” Linda showed how she could no longer get even finger between the top of the boot and Brian’s bare thigh.
“We could always call the Fire Department”, Scott remarked. Linda flashed him a dirty look. Scott stared at Brian’s defiant leather boots, and shook his head. “Damn things seem to be alive.”
As the minutes passed, Brian’s boots slowly relaxed their iron grip. He could feel the circulation finally returning to his feet. “If they’re not from your store...”, he asked, “Where did they come from?”
Robbie stated the obvious. “Customer must’ve left ’em.”
Linda glowered at the two men. “Have either of you two seen anyone in here, who could actually afford such luxurious boots? These obviously came from an expensive boutique. They were probably custom-made. Even if they were accidentally left, why didn’t the person come back for them?”
The two men pondered for a moment, before a thought occurred to Scott. “What about that woman that Robbie helped? He claimed that she was either a Gypsy, or a middle-aged hippie chick. You said that she had ‘cat eyes’”, pointing at Linda. “Wasn’t she wearing boots kinda like that?”
“Yeah, I remember her”, Linda replied. “I hate women like that”, she muttered. “You do know, that was over a week ago. Again, why hasn’t she been back?”
“I’ll bet Robbie’s right”, Scott continued. “I’ll bet she’s a Gypsy, and she put a curse on those boots!”, pointing at Brian’s feet. “I’ll also bet that she intended to trap a woman!” He now looked Brian straight in the eye. “You may have to find that lady, if you ever want out of those boots.”
“Isn't’ she the one that reads tarot cards, down on Second Street?”, Robbie asked.
“But, I can’t go out on the street like this!”, Brian pleaded.
“Hang on”, Linda said. “I think I can help.”
“If nothing else...”, Robbie smirked, “You could always get a matching leather corset, and a pair of those kid gloves that reach above the elbow. I’ve heard there’s plenty o’ dirty old men willing to pay good money for a spankin’.”
Both turned his direction. “Shut up, Robbie!”
Linda returned with a dusty pair of really baggy jeans and some black galoshes. Robbie grabbed the jeans and read the tag. “That’ll be fifty-nine ninety-five, plus tax.”
Linda grabbed the jeans back, and handed them to Brian. “Here, you can just have ‘em. The legs should be wide enough to pull over those boots.” She sneered at Robbie. “It’s not like we’re gonna sell ‘em. They’ve been out-of-style for a couple years now!” She turned back to Brian. “I also brought these galoshes, to hide the heels. The rubber should also muffle the clicking.”
Brian’s thoughts raced, as he stepped from the store. He was gripped by sheer terror. Yet, at the same time, he felt strangely aroused at the thought of being forever captive in fine stiletto boots.
Nearly two weeks had passed since Brian had become trapped in the accursed boots. He had yet to locate the mysterious woman. Did she even exist? His vacation and sick time had been nearly exhausted. But, he had to keep searching—venturing into the seediest neighborhoods and back alleys. The denizens of these dark districts laughed at his clownish baggy pants and galoshes. They mockingly asked why he was walking so funny. Even passing motorists harassed him with sarcastic wolf whistles. He could conceal his stiletto heels. But, he could not conceal the fact that was trying to walk in those heels. On top of that, every step that he took in those boots, somehow kept him painfully aroused. Was it the towering heels? Or, the fact that the boots kept him tightly leathered up to his crotch. He feared that violence was only a matter of time. Still, he had to keep searching.
In desperation, Brian had gone to his doctor—who had referred him to a surgeon. Hopefully, he could be cut free of these boots. But, even this surgeon had no luck. That leather defied his sharpest scalpel. It instantly healed itself—leaving no trace of the attempted incision. The boots then reacted, by tightening around Brian’s legs, to the point of excruciating pain. They seemed determined to punish Brian, for any attempt to remove them!
At first, Brian’s live-in girlfriend, Amy, had wanted to help. However, she had soon grown ambivalent. Ever since Brian had become trapped in those boots, their love-life had never been better! She was now addicted to caressing his tightly booted thighs, while they cuddled on the couch. She began demanding that Brian strip-down in the evening, so she could enjoy the feel and smell that leather. It made her so horny! In bed, she now wanted to be on top, so that luscious leather would glide against her bare legs, as they made love. Afterward, she would send Brian to the kitchen, for a glass of water—knowing how walking in those boots would affect him. Within a few steps, he would once-more be fully erect, and ready for another round.
However, Amy did not like getting jabbed by those stilettos, while they slept. She wondered if there was a way to secure Brian to his side of the bed. This new thought got her strangely aroused. She fantasized about converting their bed’s footboard into locking stocks for his feet. Her kinky coworker and closest confidant, showed Amy a bondage catalog, full of ideas. Amy found the concept of tight leather restraints to be quite delicious. She even dreamed of getting a matching pair of crotch-high boots for herself. She told her confidant, “If I had known that our sex would be this good, I would have kept Brian locked in fine-ass, high-heeled boots, years ago!
The Cursed Boots
An Erotic Tale of Enchanted Leather
by Obsidian
Brian was shopping for a new pair of jeans. He had grown tired of the cheap junk sold at the big-box outlets. Their clothes never seemed to last more than a month. So, he decided to try that large apparel shop, down on Main Street. Sure, he would pay more. But hopefully, he would also get more.
Main Street was ominously deserted. The mega-marts and super-stores had killed-off most of the downtown mom-and-pop businesses. Even the clothing store appeared eerily empty. There were but three people inside, and they were all employees—two men and a woman. Now, as Brian looked around, he saw only women’s clothes. He feared that this had been a wasted trip. At that point, one of the male employees noticed Brian’s confusion, and approached. “Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for a pair of men’s jeans”, Brian muttered, while still glancing around.
“They’re right over here. Follow me!” This employee was rather casually dressed, as were his two coworkers. He led Brian to a side wall, where numerous shelves held jeans of every size and brand. “Do you know your size?”
For too long, Brian had been buying cheap garments that only came in “Small”, “Medium”, “Large”, and “Extra Large”. He had almost forgotten how to purchase pants in numbered sizes. “I think it’s this one”, he said, pulling a pair from the shelf.
“Well, if you want to make sure, our fitting rooms are right over there.” The employee pointed toward a couple curtained cubicles at the back of the store.
In the fitting room, Brian saw an unusually-large, white, shoe box on the bench seat. It had no tag, no brand, no markings of any kind... People are always leaving stuff in these rooms, he thought to himself. He pushed the box to the side, sat down, and proceeded to remove his shoes.
Once in his new jeans, he checked the fit in the mirror. They looked and felt just right. Still, to be sure, he took a walk around the store, while in the jeans and his stocking feet. “Find everything you need?”, the female employee asked.
“I was just checking to make sure these fit OK”, Brian replied.
“They do look good on you”, she commented, trying not to let-on that she was admiring his butt.
Once back in the changing room, Brian could not resist the temptation to peek into the mysterious white shoe box. There, he discovered a pair of lady’s black-leather boots. These were not just any boots! The leather was incredibly butter-soft and supple. Its sweet aroma filled the changing room. With their four-inch stiletto heels and pointed toes, these had to be the most awesome lady’s boots that he had ever seen. He began pulling one of them from the box—finding that he needed to reach quite high, to reveal the whole thing. The shaft of this boot had to be close to three feet tall!
Brian set the foot of the boot on the floor, while laying its top on the bench next to him (yes, it really was that tall). He planned to put it back in its box, once he had dressed. However, as he removed his new jeans and folded them, he noticed something surprising. That boot appeared to be his size! One his shoes happened to be sitting next to it, making comparison easy. Suddenly, he could not resist the enticement. He had to try-on these boots! “What could it hurt?”, he thought to himself.
While still in his underwear, Brian examined the boot. It had no zipper on the side or back. Nor, were there any laces. It appeared to be a straight pull-on. So, he began slipping his right foot into the boot. His foot slid-in easily, as the boot was lined with the softest, smoothest, yellow pigskin. Still, it took some time to work his foot down the great distance to the bottom. When his heel finally popped into place, he found the boot to be quite comfortable. Quickly, he pulled the other boot onto his left foot.
Brian fought for balance, as he hobbled to the mirror. Tall stiletto heels were a new experience for him. Truly, these boots were far more amazing than he had imagined. He became instantly enamored with the reflection in the mirror. The tops of these boots reached all the way to his crotch. And, their incredible leather was astonishingly shiny and supple. Yet, the boots never bunched or sagged. Nor, were they stiff. They perfectly hugged every contour of his legs. He began to caress the luxurious leather on his thighs—getting himself seriously aroused. It wasn’t until he noticed the bulge in the front of his underwear, that he forced himself to stop.
However, when he sat down to remove the boots, he found that their snug leather made it nearly impossible to bend his knees. He had to stretch to reach his ankle, and pull at the first boot. But, in that position, he had no leverage. He could not get the boot to budge! The same was true with the other boot. He began grunting and groaning in frustration. There seemed to be no way out of these boots!
The female employee heard Brian’s groans, and came to see what was happening. “Are you a

Brian peeked around the room’s veil. The look on his face was one of utter humiliation. “I need your help.” The tone of his voice was deadly serious.
The lady clerk feared that she was dealing with yet another pervert. Still, she was hardly prepared for the sight that awaited her. “Whoa!”, she exclaimed, as she entered the fitting room. Here was a man in his underwear, wearing women’s crotch-high, shiny, black-leather boots, with lofty stiletto heels.
“I... I can’t get them off!”, Brian stammered. He stuttered and hesitated, as he tried to explain how he had ended-up wearing them in the first place. He then sat down, and showed her how he been unable to pull his feet free.
The woman let out a sigh. “Don’t sweat it, Hon. This ain’t nothin’ unusual. I have a boyfriend who likes wearing women’s heels around the house.” She directed Brian to hold his right foot out-straight. “Problem is, you’re pinching the leather when you bend your knee. It’s no wonder you can’t get them loose. You need a boot-jack if you’re gonna wear really-tall boots like these.”
Brian tried to explain that the boots were not his—that he had found them in the room.
“Bet you won’t try that again!”, she snickered, as she began tugging on the right boot.
Yet, no matter how hard she pulled, the boot would not budge. No luck with the left boot, either. She examined the boots for a hidden zipper. There was none. “How did you get these on?”, she asked. “Never mind. We need to head over to the shoe department, where we’ll have more room to work.”
Brian followed the woman across the store. The clicks of his stiletto heels on the hard floor, echoed off the walls. As they reached the shoe area, Brian heard a loud wolf whistle. “NICE BOOTS!” It was the male employee who had helped Brian when he had first arrived.
“Shut up, Robbie!”, the woman exclaimed. “No one asked your opinion.” As she turned back to Brian, her voice took a more friendly tone. “My name’s Linda, by the way.” She held up her name-tag for Brian to see. “This loudmouth fool is Robbie. And, that’s Scott.” She pointed to the third employee, who was now walking toward them, to see what the commotion was about. She then turned back to Robbie. “Why don’t you make yourself useful. Try to get these boots off of this poor man!”
Brian sat down, as Robbie began tugging on the right boot. But, Robbie only succeeded in dragging Brian from his chair. Robbie now directed Scott to hold onto Brian, as he yanked. Somehow, the boots responded, by becoming brutally tight. Brian’s foot went numb, as his hip joint started to ache from the strain. “STOP!”, Brian cried-out in pain.
Robbie threw up his hands. “I don’t know! They must be locked, or something.” This last remark drew cold stares from his two coworkers. “Whatever. Guess you’ll just have to wear ‘em home.”
“I can’t afford anything like this!”, Brian pleaded.
“Those aren’t ours” Linda commented. “We don’t sell anything near that nice!”
“In that case...”, Robbie interjected, as he grabbed a box cutter.
“Oh no, you don’t!”, Linda exclaimed, stepping between Robbie and Brian. “You two no-class animals wouldn’t think twice about ruining such a gorgeous pair of boots! Besides, you’d cut the hell out of this man’s leg.” Linda showed how she could no longer get even finger between the top of the boot and Brian’s bare thigh.
“We could always call the Fire Department”, Scott remarked. Linda flashed him a dirty look. Scott stared at Brian’s defiant leather boots, and shook his head. “Damn things seem to be alive.”
As the minutes passed, Brian’s boots slowly relaxed their iron grip. He could feel the circulation finally returning to his feet. “If they’re not from your store...”, he asked, “Where did they come from?”
Robbie stated the obvious. “Customer must’ve left ’em.”
Linda glowered at the two men. “Have either of you two seen anyone in here, who could actually afford such luxurious boots? These obviously came from an expensive boutique. They were probably custom-made. Even if they were accidentally left, why didn’t the person come back for them?”
The two men pondered for a moment, before a thought occurred to Scott. “What about that woman that Robbie helped? He claimed that she was either a Gypsy, or a middle-aged hippie chick. You said that she had ‘cat eyes’”, pointing at Linda. “Wasn’t she wearing boots kinda like that?”
“Yeah, I remember her”, Linda replied. “I hate women like that”, she muttered. “You do know, that was over a week ago. Again, why hasn’t she been back?”
“I’ll bet Robbie’s right”, Scott continued. “I’ll bet she’s a Gypsy, and she put a curse on those boots!”, pointing at Brian’s feet. “I’ll also bet that she intended to trap a woman!” He now looked Brian straight in the eye. “You may have to find that lady, if you ever want out of those boots.”
“Isn't’ she the one that reads tarot cards, down on Second Street?”, Robbie asked.
“But, I can’t go out on the street like this!”, Brian pleaded.
“Hang on”, Linda said. “I think I can help.”
“If nothing else...”, Robbie smirked, “You could always get a matching leather corset, and a pair of those kid gloves that reach above the elbow. I’ve heard there’s plenty o’ dirty old men willing to pay good money for a spankin’.”
Both turned his direction. “Shut up, Robbie!”
Linda returned with a dusty pair of really baggy jeans and some black galoshes. Robbie grabbed the jeans and read the tag. “That’ll be fifty-nine ninety-five, plus tax.”
Linda grabbed the jeans back, and handed them to Brian. “Here, you can just have ‘em. The legs should be wide enough to pull over those boots.” She sneered at Robbie. “It’s not like we’re gonna sell ‘em. They’ve been out-of-style for a couple years now!” She turned back to Brian. “I also brought these galoshes, to hide the heels. The rubber should also muffle the clicking.”
Brian’s thoughts raced, as he stepped from the store. He was gripped by sheer terror. Yet, at the same time, he felt strangely aroused at the thought of being forever captive in fine stiletto boots.
Nearly two weeks had passed since Brian had become trapped in the accursed boots. He had yet to locate the mysterious woman. Did she even exist? His vacation and sick time had been nearly exhausted. But, he had to keep searching—venturing into the seediest neighborhoods and back alleys. The denizens of these dark districts laughed at his clownish baggy pants and galoshes. They mockingly asked why he was walking so funny. Even passing motorists harassed him with sarcastic wolf whistles. He could conceal his stiletto heels. But, he could not conceal the fact that was trying to walk in those heels. On top of that, every step that he took in those boots, somehow kept him painfully aroused. Was it the towering heels? Or, the fact that the boots kept him tightly leathered up to his crotch. He feared that violence was only a matter of time. Still, he had to keep searching.
In desperation, Brian had gone to his doctor—who had referred him to a surgeon. Hopefully, he could be cut free of these boots. But, even this surgeon had no luck. That leather defied his sharpest scalpel. It instantly healed itself—leaving no trace of the attempted incision. The boots then reacted, by tightening around Brian’s legs, to the point of excruciating pain. They seemed determined to punish Brian, for any attempt to remove them!
At first, Brian’s live-in girlfriend, Amy, had wanted to help. However, she had soon grown ambivalent. Ever since Brian had become trapped in those boots, their love-life had never been better! She was now addicted to caressing his tightly booted thighs, while they cuddled on the couch. She began demanding that Brian strip-down in the evening, so she could enjoy the feel and smell that leather. It made her so horny! In bed, she now wanted to be on top, so that luscious leather would glide against her bare legs, as they made love. Afterward, she would send Brian to the kitchen, for a glass of water—knowing how walking in those boots would affect him. Within a few steps, he would once-more be fully erect, and ready for another round.
However, Amy did not like getting jabbed by those stilettos, while they slept. She wondered if there was a way to secure Brian to his side of the bed. This new thought got her strangely aroused. She fantasized about converting their bed’s footboard into locking stocks for his feet. Her kinky coworker and closest confidant, showed Amy a bondage catalog, full of ideas. Amy found the concept of tight leather restraints to be quite delicious. She even dreamed of getting a matching pair of crotch-high boots for herself. She told her confidant, “If I had known that our sex would be this good, I would have kept Brian locked in fine-ass, high-heeled boots, years ago!