If there was one reason why Kyle didn’t like Spring, it would be because of Spring cleaning. Kyle’s mother had given him the daunting task of organizing the attic over the weekend, and so naturally Kyle had put it off until Sunday afternoon. Before his mom left the house that day she reminded him that it had to be done by that evening or else he would be grounded for a month, which of course for Kyle and his social life would be unacceptable. Shortly thereafter his mother left the house Kyle decided he had better head up there and try to do a rush job or something so he could get back to his Sunday lounging.
Kyle’s attic was a sea of loose items. Clothes from the 80s were strewn about and ancient kitchen appliances lay broken everywhere. His family had bought the house twenty years before, but as it was a century home many of the attic items were potentially in excess of 100 years old.
“It probably wouldn’t have been a bad idea to wear socks or something,” Kyle suggested to himself as he avoided plastic shards. “Guess I’ll start on the mound of trash over there.” Kyle maneuvered his way towards a mountain of garbage and began to climb it. Because it wasn’t a solid mass Kyle foot slid right down to the bottom. It felt as if it landed in something.
“Huh, how about that,” Kyle said as his foot was comfortably inside some angled container. Kyle raised his leg to find on his foot a turn of the century era women’s high-heeled ankle boot, with the classic two-toned black around the toes and white everywhere else with buttons going up the side. “This has to be a hundred years old by now,” admired Kyle. Kyle didn’t crossdress. He felt kind of stupid with this boot on his foot but he had forgotten footwear and nobody was home, so if it didn’t pain him too much he decided to just wear it for protection for the time being. “The other one’s got to be around somewhere,” Kyle said with some interest. He shoved his hand down and sure enough pulled up the left counterpart. He slid his left foot into it and carried on his business, blocking out the fact that he was wearing women’s footwear from another century.
As Kyle threw things on different piles the flapping of the un-buttoned boots began to irritate him. To remedy it he buttoned the six buttons on each boot, making his feet very secure. Kyle continued to work for another hour with some unexpected motivation before the un-cooled attic made Kyle a little parched. “Time for a break I think,” said Kyle. “I’ll grab my shoes when I get back down there,” Kyle emerged from the garbage bags to the clearing at the top of the steps. Kyle lifted his right foot up to undo the buttons, his left hand against a beam for support. His finger tried to wiggle under the first button but it was too stiff- the fabric didn’t give. “Old crap- figures.” Kyle balanced on one foot while both his hand tried to push the button through but it wouldn’t give. The other boot was the same. “You’ve got to be freaking kidding me,” said Kyle as he bounced on one 4’’ heeled ankle boot at the top of the stair.
Kyle had been pulling and pushing for ten minutes to no avail. “God dammit!” he yelled as he stomped his boot-encased foot on the floor. He lifted his right foot again to give one last pull. His anger made Kyle yank too hard as he lost his balance. Kyle tumbled down the stairs head over high heels until his back and head slammed into the door at the bottom, his legs sitting higher up the steps. He blacked out.
Kyle awoke. He was sitting on a bench by the side of a dirt road. He saw a horse-drawn carriage go past. “What?” He thought to himself. He then looked down. Sitting on his chest were two very large breasts tucked in barely into a corset and frilly dress. He jumped at the sight, the man sitting next to him continued to sleep. He noticed he was dressed in an old style period to the carriage that had gone by.
But back to the breasts. Kyle raised hand to touch them and noticed they were gloved in long, black leather gloves. Kyle felt the breasts and shuddered when his chest felt his hand- they were real. AT that point Kyle also noticed he was still in the damned boots- although the felt high. He raised the bottom of his long fluffy dress to see that yes, they nearly reached his knee. It was then he also noticed his slender, shaven legs underneath a thin undergarment. This wasn’t right.
This has to be a dream,” Kyle thought in panic. He stood, wobbling a slight bit in the heels. He began to walk down the road, then noticing the extent of his environment. The entire world around him had gone backwards in time a hundred years. He walked faster hoping there would be something he would recognize. A carriage pulled along side him. The man controlling the horses asked if she would like a lift, as he gazed at her breasts and heels. Shortly before Kyle said he was not a woman he realized that would generate more problems then he wished to have and simply said “No.” Kyle was startled at hearing his feminine voice- it sounded slightly like his old voice only higher and sexier.
“Holy hell,” Kyle thought as the man reluctantly pulled away. Out of the purse Kyle noticed he had he removed a mirror and held it in front of his face. Kyle’s now feminine appearance resembled his only with obvious differences and much make-up. He was undeniably attractive only that offered him no comfort. Within the next five minutes several more carriages approached him (her) and Kyle eventually succumbed to their requests. She asked to be taken to the nearest hotel and was before long. Kyle offered to pay (though she was not certain she had any money on her) but the driver refused, only admired Kyle’s breasts and waist as she got out.
Jogging now, which was challenging in the heels she was slowly getting accustomed to, Kyle ran in and asked for a room. Fortunately for her she did have sufficient funds in her purse and locked herself in her room as soon as she could get there.
In the room lay a bed, a dresser, a bathtub and toilet, and a full length flip-over mirror. Shaking, Kyle removed his clothes in front of it. With little ease she shimmied out of the dress and corset, her breasts exploding out nearly throwing him off balance. Kyle undressed the rest of the way and stood in shock, nearly nude save for the cursed boots, in front of the mirror. Kyle had never seen a nude woman in person, so this in a way was his first glimpse. He rubbed himself all over, still in disbelief, all the way down to the tops of the now-knee high boots. “There’s got to be someway out of this,” Kyle said as she referred to the boots and the time change. “Maybe if I go unconscious again,” she pondered. Kyle laid down on the bed but couldn’t shake the gross feeling the room had on her. She assumed it was some new estrogen-related emotion.
Kyle got up and turned on the hot water in the bathtub. When full she stepped in, being careful with her footing in the heels and wetness. She slipped down and felt the water slowly seep its way into the boots from the tops. “This should loosen them up at least,” Kyle assured herself as her eyes got heavy and feel fast asleep. Kyle opened her eyes. She starred up at that same peeling ceiling in the hotel room, the water now cooler. To her horrified surprise the boots had risen to her thighs and buttons were now gone. “No!” She screamed in a surprisingly high voice to her as she clawed at the thigh boots, splashing water everywhere. “How?” she screamed as she stood up in the tub, nude and dripping. The water had made the boots tighter, as she noticed she could no longer almost slip a finger in the top. As slender as her thighs were the bulged slightly from the top of the skin-tight thigh boots that held her legs captive still.
Kyle tried ramming her hands down the boots but they slid right off the top. In frustration she started stomping and screaming and soon lost her balanced and hit her head on the head of the porcelain tub. Kyle again lost consciousness. With an incredible headache Kyle opened his eyes as he starred at the step in front of him. His back was killing him. He could see poking out the bottom of his jeans the heels of the damned boots. He could feel the tightness of the thigh boots as he let out a yell of contempt for everything. Towering still on his chest lay the breasts and his pants and underwear fit worse. His male sex had apparently left for good and his legs remained slender on shaven, causing his clothes to fit looser. Kyle picked up a piece of glass and caught a glimpse of his face. She had not changed. In her current contorted position she could see a label on the bottom of her right foot. The print was fine but her youthful eyes could still decipher it. It read:
- "Permanent boots: These boots cannot be removed once both have been fitted. Any attempt to do so will produce a permanent material as well as sexual change which may or may not be accompanied by periodic hallucinations."
- ―It Read
Kyle’s eyes widened. The words ‘cannot be removed’ bounced in her head. Refusing she raised herself in pain to her feet and ran to the bathroom to get a pair of scissors. The material was stiff and resistant- the scissors would not cut and if they did it was likely Kyle would cut herself as well. Kyle sat on the ground, her knees working slightly harder to bend in the still-stiff fabric. She began to cry.