Three women meet for a supper party. Their names are CINDY, CLAUDIA, and NIKI. CINDY is the hostess, and the other two have just arrived. All there are dressed in normal - even dowdy - outfits, and sone form of clunky shoes. The three are all of different heights - CINDY, very tall, CLAUDIA, medium height and NIKI, petite.)
CLAUDIA: You're all alone in this big house, Cindy?
CINDY: Oh, no. Let me show you something.
She throws open the doors of a big walk-in closet. Inside are ranked dozens of pairs of boots, all of them thigh high. There are tight-fitting lace-up boots, zip-boots, pull-on cavalier boots, and even a couple of pairs of shiny black rubber waders.
In a corner of the closet, a very large and powerful-looking man sits on the floor. He is clad only in a pair of scanty briefs. Near by him are bowls of food and water.
CINDY: Meet Bootikins. He's recently come to live with me - or should I say, to live with my boots? This closet is his home. He loves to sit here in the dark, surrounded by the leathery, rubbery smell of his mistress' divine footwear. Up, Bootikins! My friends and I are eager to be transformed!
The three dominas change into fetish costumes they had brought with them. Bootikins took off their shoes, kissed and massaged their feet and put on their boots. Each wears a different height of boot. CINDY wears thigh boots. CLAUDIA wears knee boots. NIKI wears ankle boots.
Supper is laid, and BOOTIKINS waits upon the dominas. During the meal, they tease and torment him, using their boots. They employ him as a footstool, ride his back, smear food on their shiny boots and command him to lick it off, and so on. Finally bedtime comes. CINDY locks him up in the boot closet, and the three retire to separate bedrooms.
CLAUDIA, in her room, has changed into her nightdress. But she can't bring herself to give up her knee boots. She picks them up, caresses them, rubs them against herself. In the end she puts them back on, strides back and forth and spends some time in front of a long mirror, admiring the combination of her nightie and boots. Then she leaves her room. She steps along to CINDY's, taps at the door, and looks in... to find CINDY and NIKI on the bed together, both in nighties and boots.
NIKI: What took you so long?
CLAUDIA: Shall we wake Bootikins?
CINDY: No, he's had a tiring day. He doesn't just waste his time in the closet, I don't allow him to! He has to watch over my boots, and brush them continually, never letting a speck of dust settle on a single boot-toe. Instead, let's take it in turns to dominate one another.
So they do, each woman kneeling and grovelling before the others' boots. But each rebels, insisting that her favoured height of boot is the most dominant, and jeering at the others'. A quarrel breaks out.
Eventually NIKI proposes a way of settling the matter. "We should meet again in a week's time, and each bring a newly conquered boot-slave. The one whose new slave is most fully under control will be the champion."
The others agree. But CLAUDIA is suspicious.
CLAUDIA: I know that look on your face. You've already got your boot-heels halfway into somebody, haven't you?
NIKI merely smiles.
NIKI in her office at work. She manages a shoe shop, one of the largest of a nationwide chain. She is dressed in a smart business suit and ankle boots. With her is MR HARRIS, an important man from Head Office. He is seated in a chair. NIKI is talking to him, and walking up and down the office as she does so.
NIKI: You see, Mr Harris, fashion boots have been hovering around the knee for two or three years now. It's time for them to change, to rise or fall - and my bet is that next season's boots are going down.
As she walks and talks, the camera follows MR HARRIS's view. We see that his eyes never once leave NIKI's ankle boots.
NIKI (coming to a sudden halt, and facing him): I think that's excellent news, Mr Harris. Perhaps you'll agree?
MR HARRIS(looking up): Er - yes. I trust your judgment, Miss Taylor.
NIKI: I'm glad to hear it, Mr Harris. Because I'm absolutely convinced that this will be next season's big story in ankle boots.
On her desk is a cardboard box. From it, NIKI lifts out a pair of ankle boots, of outlandishly fetishistic design. MR HARRIS stares at the boots, fascinated, but also somewhat taken aback.
MR HARRIS: Miss Taylor, I don't know what they'd say at Head Office. We've always catered for a mass market in footwear. Don't you think those boots are - er - extreme?
NIKI: They're the coming thing, sir. They reflect the changing position of women in today's society. Perhaps you'd appreciate that better if you saw them on. It just happens that this pair are in my size.
She places the boots in his hands, and takes a seat before him. She lifts an ankle-booted foot.
NIKI: If you don't mind, Mr Harris?
MR HARRIS drops to his knees before her. With trembling hands, he changes NIKI's boots. NIKI stands again, and MR HARRIS is about to rise too - but with a gesture, she commands to him to stay kneeling.
NIKI: You see the effect of the boots, Mr Harris? They empower women. And they enslave men - reducing them to cringing, fawning boot-worshippers. Perhaps you feel something of that kind at this moment?
MR HARRIS: Yes, Miss Taylor, yes! Yes I do! MR HARRIS: stood, silently staring at her legs and booted feet. NIKI: And? MR HARRIS: I, Uh . . . NIKI: Do you feel weak? Do you want to take your strength from my boots? MR HARRIS: Yes, Miss Taylor! Yes I do! Please, please, I beg you, let me kiss and lick your boots!
NIKI: Very well.
MR HARRIS flings himself upon her feet.
CINDY is dressed for an evening's clubbing. She strides in and out of the walk-in closet, exulting in the feel of her tallest thigh boots. From his corner, BOOTIKINS watches in misery. At last, he pleads with her.
BOOTIKINS: Please, Mistress Cindy, don't do this! Stay at home with me! Wherever you go, you'll never find a slave more devoted than I -
CINDY (harshly): "Silence!" She went on more gently. "I know it's cruel to you, dear Bootikins. I know you're tormented by jealousy. But you wouldn't want your Mistress to lose face with her friends, surely? We've entered into a contest. I must find myself a brand-new slave, and subdue him by the end of the week."
A taxi's horn sounds from outside.
CINDY: There's my cab. I must go.
She closes the closet door, and leaves the house.
Outside, her taxi is waiting. The driver is leaning from the window. He is an absolutely gorgeous young man. He eyes Cindy, obviously appreciating her looks. She eyes him with no less pleasure.
DRIVER: Where to?
CINDY doesn't answer. Her tongue curls lasciviously across her lips.
DRIVER: Lady? Where to? I can't take you there if I don't know. Where do you want to go?
CINDY: To 'Thighhigh Paradise'. It's a club. Perhaps you know it?
DRIVER: Yeah, I do actually. And I'd say you were halfway to thighhigh paradise already, lady - with all due respect.
CINDY: Thank you.
She steps into the back of the cab, then stops short.
CINDY: What's this, on the floor back here?
DRIVER (with exasperation): Fucking hell! This early? I haven't even had any drunks in the cab today. Excuse the language, lady. What does it look like?
CINDY: Come and see.
He leaves the driver's seat, and joins CINDY in the back. She is sitting with one leg hooked over the other.
DRIVER (looking down): I don't see anything, lady. Except your boots.
CINDY: What else do you need to see?
She flexes her ankles inside the boots. He sinks to the floor of the cab, and begins to lick...
The cab remains stationary in front of Cindy's house.
CLAUDIA arrives at a riding stable. She is dressed in a hunting jacket and top hat, and a very short skirt. Her legs are bare, but for gleaming, exquisitely polished riding boots. She meets a very beautiful, young stable girl dressed in working clothes - big sloppy sweater, tight breeches, riding boots stained with mud.
CLAUDIA: Danielle, is Joseph about?
DANIELLE: In there, Miss Claudia.
CLAUDIA enters the stables, and finds a big, good-looking young man. He sees her, and recognises her, but looks concerned.
JOSEPH: You can't go riding in that skirt, miss. Saddle'll rub your arse to pieces, if you don't mind my saying so.
CLAUDIA: Perhaps I was intending to ride bareback, Joseph.
JOSEPH looks at her, very dubiously.
CLAUDIA: I have extremely firm thighs, Joseph. Would you like to feel them?
He reaches for her bare thighs, but as he does, she firmly restrains his hand.
CLAUDIA: No, Joseph. First you must play with my riding boots.
She draws him down, to sit with her in a pile of hay.
Cut away: we see that DANIELLE has entered the stable unnoticed, and is watching them from a corner.
At CLAUDIA's direction, JOSEPH fondles her riding boots, then her thighs. Then they have sex in the hay. CLAUDIA's top hat falls from her head, her booted feet lock together around JOSEPH's back. All the while, she keeps talking, ecstatically. She commands him, "Swear your eternal slavery. Swear to be mine to dominate from now until the end of time."
Meanwhile, DANIELLE watches, strangely intent.
CLAUDIA and JOSEPH climax. No sooner is it done than he rises and fastens his pants.
CLAUDIA: Where are you going?
JOSEPH: Got work to do, miss.
CLAUDIA: I haven't given you permission to leave. You've just sworn to be my eternal boot-slave!
JOSEPH: Well, I was just saying what pleased you to hear, miss. People'll say all kinds when they're having a shag. Don't mean nothing usually, do it? Thanks very much, miss. Afternoon.
He walks out of the stables.
CLAUDIA (sitting up and yelling after him): You cretin! You ignorant, manure-smelling bastard!
DANIELLE: Excuse me.
CLAUDIA turns round, and we see her through DANIELLE's open legs. She's standing close by, in her tight breeches and muddy riding boots.
DANIELLE: I heard what you were saying, miss...
Back at CINDY's. NIKI has just arrived, and she and CINDY are admiring each other's fetish costumes. Nearby kneels MR HARRIS, dressed in a rubber suit, and blindfolded.
CINDY: So this is your catch?
NIKI: At Head Office, Mr Harris is an important man. But in my presence, he's nothing but a snivelling wretch of a boot-slave, and he knows it. Don't you, Mr Harris?
MR HARRIS: Yes, Miss Simmons.
NIKI: "He is very obedient. At our rendezvous, I ordered him to get into my car, then to put on the blindfold. He has no idea where he is, nor what's going to become of him before the night's done. Are you nervous, Mr Harris?
MR HARRIS: Yes, Miss Simmons. I am quite frightened.
CINDY: So you ought to be.
She steps towards MR HARRIS.
CINDY: Reach out. Touch my legs.
With a slow, shaking hand, he reaches out, and touches her, just above the left knee.
CINDY: You can feel I'm wearing thigh boots, can't you, slave? Tell me how much you adore them.
MR HARRIS: With all due respect, Mistress CINDY, I prefer Miss Simmons' boots.
CINDY: You little turd.
A ring at the door.
It's CLAUDIA, in knee boots and fetish costume; and with her, she's brought a large wooden chest, fitted with castors. Its lid is closed and locked. CINDY and NIKI are impressed, despite themselves.
NIKI: Your new slave's shut in there? Bloody hell!
CLAUDIA: Help me get this indoors.
CINDY throws open the boot closet.
CINDY: Bootikins! Taxibabe! There's work for you!
We see her two slaves, both nude but for scanty briefs, each sitting in a corner of the closet: BOOTIKINS and the newly renamed taxi-driver. They exchange a look of mutual dislike.
The supper room. The three dominas are there, CINDY with BOOTIKINS and TAXIBABE; NIKI with MR HARRIS, still blindfolded; and CLAUDIA with the chest. CINDY takes centre stage.
CINDY: Well, each of us has succeeded in making a new conquest. Let us see how well each has her willing captive in hand. Taxibabe! Forward, and do your boot-licking duty!
She stands with legs astride, while TAXIBABE licks her thigh boots, progressing gradually from toes to tops, slavering his tongue across each boot in turn for several minutes at a time. As his mouth climbs towards her crotch, CINDY pats him approvingly on the head.
CINDY: Good, Taxibabe! I think I shall permit you to lick something else, shortly. Something soft and salty...
Suddenly, BOOTIKINS leaps from his place, and hurls himself at TAXIBABE, with both fists flying.
BOOTIKINS: I won't stand for this! I can't stand this any longer! Take your filthy tongue away from Mistress Cindy's boots!
TAXIBABE is no less willing to fight. They roll around the floor, punching and wrestling, deaf to CINDY's commands to break it up.
She snatches down from the wall a massive leather bullwhip, and cracks it loudly in the air several times. The fight ends, and the two combatants slink back to their places. CINDY yells abuse at them both. But she has been put to shame by their lack of control.
NIKI steps forward.
NIKI: So much for thigh boots! Now, let me show you what ankle boots can do.
She snaps her fingers, and MR HARRIS crawls forward on his hand and knees.
MR HARRIS (very anxiously): Miss Taylor, what's going on? Who was fighting? Was anyone hurt?
Without troubling to answer, NIKI mounts his back, squeezing her thighs against his rubber suit, and slaps his buttocks as a signal to move. He obeys.
MR HARRIS: Miss Taylor, I like a fun fantasy scenario as much as anyone. But we ought always to respect one another's personal limits.
NIKI: Be quiet.
MR HARRIS: There ought to be established safeguards - a word, a gesture, some kind of signal one can always make at a moment's notice, which is recognised on all sides as meaning 'enough is enough'.
NIKI: Will you shut up?
MR HARRIS: I've - I've just remembered - before I left home - a very important message I should have left for my wife. Perhaps I could go now, and taking the blindfold off for a few minutes, I could use the phone -
NIKI (yelling): You miserable coward, you're going nowhere till I'm finished with you! Don't you dare touch that blindfold!
But MR HARRIS has already jerked the blindfold down from his eyes. He lifts his head, and blinks at the company around him.
In disgust, NIKI dismounts from his back, and kicks his rubber-coated backside, before stalking away to a corner of the room.
MR HARRIS: Miss Taylor, remember who you're dealing with! I could make things very uncomfortable for you at Head Office! ...Miss Taylor, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. I didn't want to give up the game completely! Please, Miss Taylor...!
CINDY turns to CLAUDIA.
CINDY (wryly): It looks as if you could be the winner by default. Are you going to show us what's in that chest?
CLAUDIA: The time has come.
She unlocks the chest.
From it rises DANIELLE - no longer a stable-girl. In fetish costume and knee-boots, she is transformed - not into a submissive, but into a supremely powerful dominant.
All present stare at her in awe.
CINDY: She - she's your slave?
CLAUDIA: No. She's my new Mistress.
DANIELLE steps out of the chest. CLAUDIA drops to her knees before her.
CLAUDIA: I fell under her power at the riding stables. She commanded me to bring her here, and chose to conceal herself until the moment was right. Knee boots, thigh boots, ankle boots - all must bend and kneel to serve her.
There is a flashback to CLAUDIA and DANIELLE, experiencing ecstasies of submission and dominance in the hay.
DANIELLE turns cruel eyes from right to left, surveying the company; then she speaks.
DANIELLE: Down, down, all of you! Male and female, booted and barefoot! Down! Down!
ALL obey, falling to their knees simultaneously.
DANIELLE: Come to me! Come, and worship my boots!
ALL crawl towards her, three women and three men. Thronging about her feet, they compete to kiss, lick and fondle her boots.
With a stern, impassive face, DANIELLE, the Empress of Boots, looks down upon her new subjects.
© HWS, 2000