Office Pumps 1 (of 4)
cowgirl (Edited & proofed by Mr. Kevin! Thanks.) 


_____



A business woman can't stop thinking about a silly
article
claiming 'the higher a women heels, the lower her I.Q.
score!'
(fff/F,Humil,Shoe fetish,Reluc,Bimbo,Mc?Etc,you know
the drill...)



________



Excuse me?" I asked, somewhat stunned.

Trudy, our receptionist caressing the pages as she
read the magazine article aloud. I stood there in my
flat Birkenstocks, business suit, and briefcase,
arching my brow.

" It says, a controversial new report published in the
new England Journal Of Orthopedics states: ` Lower IQ
scores proved more common in women wearing high heels.
The higher the heel, the lower the IQ.' The research,
carried out found that the greater a woman's
educational attainment, the less likely she was to
seek out and purchase high heeled shoes. They also say
93 per cent of all women with more than four years of
college education were more likely to purchase low
heeled or flat comfortable shoes."

I found myself averting my eye site away from Trudy's
white platform clogs  as I listened with mock
resignation.  Part of me was irked over the enormous
generalizations this article was making. Another
wanted to laugh out loud. Just because a woman wants
to look nice, she's a ding bat? But mostly I was
getting really worked up over the whole thing.

For some unexplainable reason, though thoroughly
pissed, I was embarrassed over my eagerness to hear
more.

" ....Educational background appears to play a key
role
in footwear choices. One of the female researchers who
declined to speak on the record said: `I know its
unflattering and embarrassing to admit, but it appears
cheap women are attracted to cheap shoes. Period. "

This last part made me downright furious!  Taking a
deep, unsteady breath, I stepped back.
"...uummm.....may I
see that please?" My breath ragged with impotent
anger.

With a polite little smile, I snatched the article
from her fingers as I stormed down the hall. Seconds
later I snuck the magazine into the safety of my
office, fingers shaking as i poured over each and
every word, my lips pursed with white hot anger. I
finally tossed it in the trash, totally confused by my
own disgust.

I don't know why it bothered me so, but I couldn't
stop thinking about it!  Was it just me or did Trudy's
eye's glitter with repudiation?  Did she know
something? I turned vivd scarlet at the thought, her
judging me? I took a composed breath, then exhaled
calmly. First of all the whole thing was just plane
silly, and secondly,

I wore flats, and so did most of the women of my age
who work here. Maybe all this 'intelligence' talk
simply ignited my own personal fears and secret
Skellington. I'd always shamefully hid how spotty my
own college education was from my peers, and felt
guilty for being naughty and fibbing my way into this
cushy sales rep job in the first place.

And the most humiliating part was how I'd developed
the opinion  IQ's were basically crap after I'd placed
so fucking low. So that's all it was. Insecurity.
Silly fears I couldn't afford to dwell on.

I quickly caught up with my fellow office managers,
Kristy and Lisa.

We three handle many of the same accounts, and though
I have the most seniority, I subtly rely on Kristy's
help a lot, though I'm not thrilled about it. I've
decided relying on someone young enough to be my
daughter doesn't have to signify weakness, it's more
like ...delegating, right?

Kristy also echoes me in her no- nonsense work ethic
and conservative tastes in business suits, and flats.
Kristy truly hates heels and *zero* patience with the
kind of physical damage high heels can cause, and
often exchanges a dismayed sigh with me when Lisa
comes clicking merrily down the halls! I can't
describe how my breath quickens and my pulse races
when I watch Kristy get all worked up and ranting
stupid about women who wear heels when were go to
lunch!  It's a little obsessive, but I get suck a
weird feeling from listening, I don't know why!

Then there's Lisa. Don't get me wrong, I love Lisa
dearly. But, well, she brings out the worst in me.

I know Kristy would get a bit puzzled by how I silly
behave when I'm alone with Lisa. Part of me admires
Lisa, and another part... I don't know. Though I can't
help becoming giddy when were alone together, 
thankfully I'll never be the poor blind fashion slave
poor little Lisa is.

As I explained to Kristy, reason I've always ignored
high heels simply because I fear the physical hassles
they bring. As I Privately admit to Lisa, yes, they
CAN make a woman look a bit sexier. Lisa is clearly
the most fashion conscious of us, and regularly sports
two and three inch heels. But she's not just a bimbo!
She's eager and quite ambitious, and is someone I've
personally become quite smitten with. I wish Kristy
and I weren't so mean to her sometimes!

The thing is, I keep testing Lisa. Competitiveness, I
guess. I get the sickest kick out of secretly pouring
compliments and egging Lisa into daring to wear much
higher heels than anything we'd wear, then watch
excitedly as Kristy rips her to shreds behind her
back. I'm not sure why I get so excited over
sarcastically encouraging Lisa's higher heels, then
playing the other side, frowning in disapproval with
Kristy about it. It's sick.

I guess I'm a little two faced, and I wonder if Lisa
is aware of what we say or picks up on it? I'm sure
she is. 

Maybe part of me is jealous of Lisa gets to wear, or
competitive for Kristy's approval, but another wanted
to punish her in Kristy's eyes. It's not something I
fully understand or am I'm proud of, but I can't seem
to stop.

I thought the IQ article might be worth a laugh around
the morning water cooler where we three usually met,
but for some reason, I didn't bring it up. A wicked
hope flashed through me of the whole subject would
mortify Lisa by implying she was a bimbo, what with
her three inch heels today.

I knew it really wouldn't, but just imagining Kristy
looking superior, poor little Lisa ineptly squirming
in humiliation in her high heels - the Idea was doing
really causing me to respond!

I swallowed dryly, leering down at Lisa's tree inch
platform sandals while desperately maintaining the
safety of Kristy's (and my) boring flats.  I tried not
getting a sick pleasure, dying to know if there was
any truth to the article.

Then I became appalled at myself for even entertaining
such cruel notion. What's the matter with me? What did
it matter how much education they had? What did their
choice in footwear matter? These two girls were my
friends, for goodness sake! What kind of friend was I?
I decided I need to do something nice for a change.

" Hey, why don't you two come over to my pool for a
swim after work today. Just us three. It'll be fun,
huh?" I winked at them both.

" Sounds great. But my suits at home. " Lisa frowned.

" No prob. I have extras. Kristy? " I asked.

" Wish I could guys, but I gotta stay late. The
Brockwell report. Don't worry, I've got it covered.
You two have fun and I'll take a rain check, okay?"
Kristy smiled and waved us good bye as Lisa and I left
work for the day.



_______



Lisa provided pretty mindless company chattering on
about shoes, clothes, and such, but it was relaxing.
As she  prattle on, I was amazed how she even managed
her way anything past a Mcjob. But I held my tongue
and wasn't tempted to jump in and indulge with her!
I'd had it with my sick undermining of her and I was
glad to have her over, even after the embarrassment of
my suit being a little too big for her (ouch)!  We had
dinner afterwards, then she scampered back home,
leaving  me feeling a little better about my
competitiveness with her at work.

The next morning I realized that Lisa had accidentally
left her high heels at my pool last night. I
remembered her giggle as I ran my fingers over the
smooth velvet little fuchsia orange two inch heels.
They felt so smooth to the touch. Reluctantly, I threw
them into a bag and brought them to work for her.


I'm not sure why, but I kept putting off returning
Lisa's shoes.

I was a little distracted by them all morning. Nothing
weird, but I just was so impressed with how cute they
were. They were also a size seven. I used to be around
that size!  God she had cute feet.

Later that day, I went to lunch with Kristy and I
found us going to work making fun of Lisa, as usual.
But I had my mind on other things today.  Still
curious, I steered the conversation towards her
education. I found out that she attended four years of
college, unlike my two, AND she had an IQ of...

one hundred and forty eight!

Jesus...that high?

She wasn't bragging. She even politely laughed off the
whole IQ issue. I noticed, though, that she didn't ask
mine. I realized my silence must have betrayed the
obvious - mine wasn't as high as hers. Fuck,
practically everybody in the office was smarter than
me! I suddenly felt like shit. 

No wonder I had been here so long and seemed to be
going nowhere!

I soon found myself admiring Kristy's shoes. How much
of a different animal they were than Lisa's tacky
little numbers orange numbers back in my office.
Kristy's shoes were further proof, right? I became
embarrassed I'd chosen wearing one inch heels today.
It was an impulse, this morning, after Lisa had come
over. What the fuck? I should be embarrassed about
that? Nobody cares, and besides they're the only high
heels I had, right?

Okay, so it was silly of me, but...I couldn't stop
frowning down at them. I noticed Kristy didn't notice,
thankfully. She looked so classy and tasteful in her
little flats that I wanted to race home and report to
her in some fresh Birkenstocks. I felt  a smoldering
anger at myself for caring about Kristy's IQ. Okay,
maybe I didn't share her brains, but at least we had
similar taste in shoes.  Well, on most days.

Well, thank god for Lisa and the Trudy I laughed to
myself.

Somehow I never managed to give Lisa her shoes back. I
brought them home instead. I don't know why. They were
just a pair of silly high heels. I noticed she hadn't
worn the soles out much. They still smelled new and
fresh.



As I threw Lisa's heels into the bag and picked up my
own boring shoes, only the ones I'd worn today had ANY
heels, I frowned. I wished I had at least one pair
like Lisa's, just for fun. Not a work pair, just a
social pair. I scolded myself for falling into the
illusion that the stupid article was right, but then I
turned a little scarlet, wondered if my lower IQ
reflected my excitement over crazy shoe styles like
Lisa's. Sometimes I longed I could be more like Lisa,
wearing all sorts of outrageous stuff, showing off my
body and turning heads all around the office.

Once I was alone and at home, I couldn't resist.

I opened the bag and dug out Lisa's little orange
fuchsia heels. I tried to put one on, but I could only
squeeze my toes in, my heel not fitting in.

DAMN!

I'd looked forward to this trying these on all day,
and now I couldn't even fit into them. I felt silly.
Did I actually think I'd be able to regress to silly
little Lisa and prance around my house feeling as sexy
as her just because I wore her friggin' heels?  Did I
think I'd suddenly have Lisa's cozy little figure once
I stuffed my fat feet into her pert little orange size
sevens high heels?

What an idiot. Realizing I needed to get a grip, I
decided to return her stupid heels tomorrow. I threw
them in the brown paper bag and sulked off to bed,
tossing and turning all night over what a strange
twisted woman I was sinking to.


_____




Over the next few days Lisa seemed to regressed and
had trouble with work. She also took to  pouting
because I wasn't egging her on to wear more outrageous
shoes and such, so her clothing became more
outrageous. We both clearly knew it was a desperate
for her to get to give her strokes and pay some
attention to her for being such a 'bad girl'.

But I refused and wouldn't talk to her, a delicious
feeling of excitement flowing through me as she
desperately tried to talk to me alone. But I was
having too much fun denying her, and always found a
reason or a distraction so we weren't alone. I'm not
sure if Lisa's slipping at work was all in her head,
or was inevitable anyway, but she'd was developing a
reputation. If I didn't know better I'd swear Lisa was
becoming aroused be becoming more and more simple
minded, and getting really depressed over why more and
more shoes and clothes weren't getting her ahead at
work.

So I threw her a bone. I left a nasty little note note
on her desk. On it was written these words:

" Smart girls wear Tighter sizes."

I didn't sign it, and I saw it disappear from her
desk. I could see she longed to ask me about it, but I
was playing it aloof so she'd just slyly wink to me
from across the room, smiling like a smug little
lottery winner! It was pathetic, but I couldn't help
watch.

I tried not to think about Kristy's 'superior
intelligence', but it really dug into me. I don't know
whether I was impressed or jealous. I felt a little
humiliated that my slightly younger best friend had a
better reasoning capability than I did. God only knows
what she thought about me.

But we'd never been competitive or anything, at least
not before then. Kristy still saw me as her peer, I
was sure. But I could help wondering if she'd look at
me a little differently, if she knew I was secretly
lagging behind her several IQ points. Okay, maybe
thirty or forty! Thankfully she didn't ask, and I
wasn't about to offer.

Later that day, Kristy came to see me. "Jennifer, I
was wondering if you'd supervise Lisa on the Stevens
contract. She could use someone of your experience.
Would you help her out?"

"Sure, as long as she's okay with it."

"I'll talk to her about it. I'm sure she'll realizes
it's too big a job for her alone. Heck, the poor
things can barely manage those silly platforms of
hers." Kristy winked to me, making me flush over the
dig.

I wondered if Lisa would accept this. I knew she
wouldn't like it, but I also knew she wouldn't put up
a fight. Lately she seemed more and more intimidated
by Kristy.  Kristy had still stopped short of
insulting Lisa to her face, but even Lisa realized
there was no way anyone could take her seriously if
she continued to dress like this.

I managed to get Kristy into more IQ talk around the
water cooler.

" Hey guys, whats up?" Lisa asked as she clicked up to
us in some three inch shiny black platforms.

" Oh, I was just boring Jennifer to death with that IQ
nonsense. Hey Lisa, were you ever tested?" Kristy
chirped, as my ears perked up.

" Uh...I didn't.  I mean, yeah........but I forget
what it
was. I know, kinda lame, huh?" she said, her voice
falling off as she started down at her heels.

Three inch heels.

I could feel her shame. Then Kristy jumped in again.

" Hey, all that IQ stuff is over-rated anyways, right?
The point is, were here! We're all business women and
we've made it. " Kristy bravely tried reaching out and
patting Lisa's hand. It probably wasn't as
condescending as it came off. Probably.

"By the way, Lisa honey. I've asked Jennifer here to
help you out on the Stevens contract, all right?"

" But Kristy, I'm sure I can...."

" I'm sure you can, but a little extra help never hurt
anyone, right? And refusing Jennifer's experience on
this would be silly, and we all know a girl like you
doesn't get to a position here by making silly
decisions now, *does* she?" Kristy said holding Lisa's
gaze, until Lisa's eyes slowly made their way to the
ground, somewhat lost.

"No...I guess...."

"Very well." Kristy chirped as her eyes sparkled at
me.

Lisa's public nose-dive brought all sorts of
embarrassing pleasurable feelings flooding through my
body, to my horror. I savored the site of her staring
down stupidly at her high heels in embarrassment.

Lisa finally looked back up and noticed we were alone,
Kristy having waltzed back to her office.

"Hey, where'd she go?" Lisa pouted somewhat
dejectedly.

"Well, Kristy does have a lot of work to do now,
doesn't she? We can't all be showing off such pretty
heels like those now, can we?" I grinned playfully,
teasing a smile out of my dim-witted little friend.
Her face lit up at the kind words for the plastic
coffins wrapped and hugged her feet so tightly.

"I'm sure it wasn't meant to be rude. No hard feelings
about the extra help, right? " I said, sticky sweet,
as she nodded a polite little no.

" Hey...." Lisa paused. "I forgot to ask, what's
*you're* IQ, Jennifer?" She grinned with a small glint
of something approaching malice. Apparently she hadn't
taken my new role totally in stride.

I waited till Kristy completely disappeared into her
office, then leaned closer, barely touching Lisa's
arm.

" Listen little miss nosey, are we sure somebody
didn't just 'forget' their IQ and just not mention it
because they were a little too embarrassed how low it
might actually be?" I said, trying to hold her gaze.

She looked a little peeved, but then finally gave me a
sheepish shrug and nodded.

"Yeah. See....I used to be pretty smart. I got really
good grades in high school and college too. But just a
week
ago I got tested, and it's around 90. That is normal,
right? Please don't tell Kristy, okay? It's not really
low or nothing, is it?  I don't want her thinking I
can't handle basic contracts and stuff, okay?" There
was a note of panic in her voice.

"Well, maybe it was that body of yours that got you
those good grades." I teased as Lisa flushed with
shame. "I'm sure it's fine sweetie. Remember, you're
not being judged just by your abilities!"  I offered
my arm around her shoulder, and gave her a little pat.



Lisa soon changed the subject as I took her cue and
followed her into a conversation about her
excessories. It often was cessories or the safety of
fashion talk which Lisa retreated into when confused,
embarrassed, or humiliated.



" By the way, those heels look awfully tight. Are you
sure they're not a size too small? "  I asked
devilishly.

" Smart girls like tight sizes..." Lisa winked
conspiratorially at me. I cracked a small smile but
otherwise Ignored her.

"Beside's, it feels better when the heels I wear are
as tight as possible! I could show you some tips on
wearing high heels if you want. I know you don't
usually wear them, but I've had it all, bleeding
heels, all sorts of ugly toe problems. I have tons of
tricks to--"

" Well, that's flattering, Lisa, really. But let's get
back to work first, okay? " I said opening my office
door as I stepped inside.

Lisa paused and butted her way into my office before I
could stop her.

"Jennifer? Please, please, please, don't tell Kristy
I'm dumb, okay? Please? Promise me?" Lisa begged
spastically, her eyes welling up.

I winced, trying to ignore the weird little kick I got
witnessing how delightfully mortified she was at
revealing her lack of intelligence...and the rush of
desire I got by staring at her heels. I calmed her
down, rushed her out of my office, drying her tears
with a tissue.

" There there, Your secret's safe with me! Now do you
see why you need my help with those nasty ol'
contracts?
Does my little lisa?" I said as soothingly as
smothering as I could, then shoving her out the door
abruptly.


Hidden behind my office door, I quickly abandoned my
feet as far into Lisa's cute little pumps as I could,
imagining how stupid she was. I still couldn't fit my
back heels into them, and my feet were pained from
trying, but it was worth it, just getting this close
to her stupidity.

Then I heard a sound, the sound of my office door
opening as someone came in.

Lisa paused as she spotted me, stand there mincing
around in her pink fuchsia heels like a moron as she
spoke:

"Jennifer, are those my shoes?"







_______





We took the rest of the day off and went shopping.
Lisa kept encouraging me to buy styles of pumps and
mules I warned her that I never would, but she would
have none of it after what she'd seen. I feared she'd
think me a 'pervert' for trying her shoes, but she
mistook me for a high heel lover awaiting
encouragement. I swore her to keep this from Kristy,
and I was pretty sureshe would.

Lisa delighted in teasing me by walking past shoe
stores and pointing out dozens of styles and heel
lengths. I gazed longingly in the windows like a love
struck school girl. I caught sight of another woman's
sexy little low cut "vamp" style 3 inch sexy high
heels, with revealing, strategically placed "toe
cleavage", and I felt an overwhelming desire to get
some of my own.

Then I snapped out of it and became self conscious. I
feigned exhaustion and demanded we leave from the mall
so I could drop her off and scurry back to the safety
of my home, alone.

Which is what exactly happened, except...

Lisa came home with me.

I found myself spending the evening with her, elbow to
elbow, looking up high heel shoes over the internet.
We backed some pop corn, some wine and put on some
bouncy bubble gum pop music. a slumber party for
adults. It was more relaxing than I wanted to admit,
and Lisa really knew high heel shoes! She showed me
tons of cool web sites about high heels and I was
impressed that she excelled in something!

The more wine we had, the more my defenses let down,
and I became uneasy about lisa's arm tickling mine or
her knee grazing my thigh. It meant nothing to her,
but It stirred me inside, or maybe I was just drunk.
Then I became shocked when Lisa slipped off the back
of her heels and revealed a ugly blister on her back
heel. It was still quite puffy and blue, and I thought
I'd throw up for a minute.

"Well, all this is fine, but I can't be doing....any
permanent damage..." I said my words slurring
stupidly.

Anger ignited in Lisa's eyes as she aggressively
shoved  her heel to my face as she forced my groggy
face just above the her back heel, forcing me to gaze
at the wound.

" This is what it IS Jennifer. It's no picnic. If
you're gonna be a high heel girl, you're gonna suffer!
No promises. I can promise you your heel will blister,
then you'll be forced to sling backs and mules! Then
your toes will get blisters and you'll crawl to
sandals, but you'll seen just live with pumps and
happily EAT the blisters, because you can't afford to
show your toes or heels anymore! You'll do it, and
you'll do it with a fucking smile, just like I do,
understand???" Lisa smiled with an alarmingly sensual
tone in her voice as she released my head, as I hid
how close to tears I was becoming.

I had seen this side to Lisa before, and I was
stunned. I was also in shock and totally drunk too, so
it all seamed unreal. I was also embarrasstly aroused
by what she'd said, and shown me, and the whole thing.
I was hooked.

" I'm sorry, but this is what us dumb girls do..."
Lisa
whispered, her words going by me before I could even
processes them.

Luckily, Lisa just ignored it all and cheerily kept us
on task.  Soon it was as if none of it had happened
and she had me looking up more sites she she lectured
me. As the evening hours disappeared we both kept
trying to place where I fit in, Mules? Platforms were
out, but she thought I could get away with them.
Silngbacks? There were countless options to ruin my
feet in! But I wasn't Lisa, so what I could get away
with, fashion wise, without looking to silly?

I'd need to help me with this. Lisa's help. But it's
not weakness.....it's called delegating, right?


____

When I awoke next morning, I felt like it was all a
dream.

But I saw Lisa had grabbed a blanket and slept on my
couch, and she left a little stain on the sheet! I
didn't want to know, and washed it. Next day at work
We never spoke about her spending the night,  but we
remained friendly and were talking again, Since I
didn't want Kristy to find out how Lisa had caught me
in her shoes.

At the office, high heels were all I could think
about. Even seeing younger secretaries parading around
in the office wearing heels was enough to make me perk
up. I found work difficult and fought the desire to
look up shoes on the internet all day, and the more I
denied myself at work, the worse my fixations got.

I knew I couldn't hold out forever. I longed not only
to try some higher heels, but also to actually suffer
through some. The Idea that they hurt was part of the
weirdness and atraction for some reason. Her words
from the other night ringed in my head over and over.
I watched Lisa and poured myself into her shoes in my
imagination.

I noticed Lisa's regular sense of fashion seemed to
mirror my love of tight and painful fitting shoes! I
licked my lips while studying her luscious figure,
deciding my wardrobe may need an overhaul as well.

Today Lisa had taken special care to dress herself in
the most restrictive and confining business skirt,
mules and designer bolero I'd ever seen. She looked
cute as hell in it, but she also minced around
uncomfortably all day, which made her look ditzy and
unintelligent. She was the picture of a bimbo, with
her tight skirts and ridiculously high heels. I was
dismayed by how much attention she was getting,
negative or positive, but she excited me as well.
Maybe she wasn't so stupid after all! Maybe I could
get away with such stuff.

Who was I fooling, and at my age? Was I missing out on
something? Were my flat shoes and gray suits holding
me back? Were my office peers, male and female,
laughing at me? These questions started to echo in my
gut, and I became angry at myself for falling behind
the times!



Kristy stormed into my office furious and slammed the
door.

"Have you seen Lisa's feet?" She demanded.

I froze inside.

"Uh...no. Her...feet? Why would I.....?"  I stuttered
in
fear.

"Oh of course not. Why would you? I just saw her in
the bathroom. The poor thing's got sores all over her
feet! She's a mess! It's those damned heels she
wears!" Kristy fumed, pacing back and forth.

"Well, that's too bad, but you can't fire her for
having bad feet..."

"I never said I'd fire her, dummy! I just meant it's
another signs she's irresponsible! She can't even take
care of herself, see??" Kristy shot off.

"And don't get me started on her clothes...."

I watched Lisa up just my office window, all dressed
as Kristy fumed on about her, picking up her pacing
speed.


"And don't get me started on clothes that constrict
movement. " Kristy started.

" Could we do this at lunch?" I asked, her feminist
speech making me sweat just as much as the view of
Lisa prancing around outside was.


" No, and don't interrupt! Now, Is it just me, or is
it, like, totally obvious that tight fitting clothes
are a really baaaaaad idea? Especially when you
combine them with high heels. It's like women are
screaming, `Victimize me, please!' I've never
understood it."  Kristy's breath grew with mine, but
for different reasons. The moore haughty Kristy
became, the more my anticipation grew. I started
through dreamy eyes at Lisa from afar as used Kristy's
rant to bring me closer and closer.

"Of course, spandex doesn't constrict movement, but
that opens a whole new can of worms. I'm sorry, but I
find a covered female body much sexier than an exposed
one. Women's flesh has been exploited for far too
long, and exploitation is not sexy. Anyhow, spandex is
the great TV ratings booster. Spandex is a wonderful
fabric, but it's a stupid thing to wear as clothing.
You see, when men see something that they like, they
force it on us. It's that dirty magazine mentality.
It's why they're into fetishes. What females do you
know that go for that stuff?"

I tried to listen, but I was already dangerously close
to a climax. My mind and thighs were burning with
shame
and frustration. As soon as Kristy left my office, I
stroked myself to an intense orgasm, visualizing
Kristy lecturing me while I stood before her and
standing at attention while stupidly wearing Lisa's
painful little high heels.


_____


I tried not to drink in the site of Lisa's sexy
ensemble all day around the office, but I couldn't
help it. The more I let my eyes circle her hips and
curves, the more I realized how her sexy four inch
heels, despite killing her feet, helped ensure a very
delicate and feminine posture. I tried to work up the
nerve to buy some really cheap outrageous heels, but I
knew I'd never have the guts to wear in public' let
alone around the house.

I told myself tonight was the night I'd buy some,
knowing I'd chicken out, like always had these last
few weeks.

I sighed frustrated with to myself that I simply HAD
to get some sort of high heeled shoes on my way home.
And I came close. I'd circled various shoe shops
dozens of times, but I always left, scared of what
heels would do to my feet. I couldn't screw up my own
feet that way, despite, or maybe because of,  Lisa's
prophetic words!  We still hadn't "gone shopping"
together since our wild decedent night looking up
shoes together, but we both knew something was coming.


The next day, while Kristy and I stood by the water
cooler, I got weak when Lisa walked in wearing the
most stunning foot wear yet. Even Kristy noticed.

"What's got into that girl? " she scoffed as we
both started.

" Uh....not sure..." I said trying sound disapproving.

My breath became shallow when I gazed over Lisa's new,
stunning, totally exotic and sexy looking three inch
fake leopard spotted sandals! The rest of her outfit
was equally sexy. She wore a knee length skirt, warm
brown spotted leather vest, and a cotton peach colored
blouse with a cute bow billowing across the bosom. It
seemed a little tight. Almost a size too small. The
blouse pinched into her sides, causing her breasts,
tummy and behind to strain invitingly against the
fabric.

"Lisa, that's a nice outfit.." I cautiously began.

"Oh thanks. I know it's a little...."

"Tight?" Kristy quipped.

"Kristy!" I forced a frown and sympathetic shrug to
Lisa. I fully expected Lisa looked at me with a
twinkle in her eye for causing all this, but it was
then I realized Lisa may just be now too dim to
remember my note. She was just dressing tightly now on
automatic, like her self- abused feet.

"It's okay. It *is* tight. I don't know why, but I'm
really more comfortable in tighter clothes the last
few months."  Lisa said sounding like she was trying
to convince herself.

"Yeah, we noticed." I said with a innocent smile.
Didn't you notice, Kristy?" I said, nudging her as I
got off on the whole thing a little too much.

"Sure, it really flatters you. " Kristy said
sarcastically. Lisa chirped on, oblivious.

"Listen....I,like,  hope they don't look too....well,
you
know...slutty." Lisa whispered the last word, a hint
of
anger flickered through her  eyes for a second.

"Oh noooooooo, believe me, you pull it off. You look
great! Fantastic!" I said a little too quickly.

" Thanks jennifer! I'm obviously, like, a size eight,
but I swore I'd get into this thing today! It's almost
two sizes two small, too! I decided, like, I could get
away with it though. I mean, it's not too bad, is it?"
Lisa's eyes sparkled with a strange hurtful look as
she spoke. She almost sounded like she was flirting.
Or pissed. Or both. 

Weird.

"You look great. I gotta get back to my office. Later,
you two," Kristy said impatiently as she waltzed away,
rolling her eyes.

Lisa firmly reached for my arm and whispered, face
bright red:

"Besides, the secret places it hugs and rides into
make it *worth* it, believe me!" She winks as she
swayed playfully away from the water cooler, leaving
me totally shocked and breathless.

But Lisa didn't sound right. There was something ugly
in her tone. She had some strain, not just in her
clothes. It was the way Lisa spoke. It reminded me of
my little speeches to myself about how high heels two
sizes too small and turned my feet to hamburger really
WERE worth it.




It was the sound of a horny angry woman in denial.
A forced sound, like someone trying to talk herself
into something she really hated with a passion.  A
sound that filled my head each night I teased myself
with the thought of pouring my feet into painful
little high heels shoes while pleasuring myself before
my computer screen each night!

And it made me crazy, secretly watching her suffering
the way I wanted to suffer! That lucky bitch!

I still told myself I was nothing like her, as I
watched Lisa painfully prance back to her desk in her
impossibly high heels. I replayed her voice over and
over in my head, remembering her puzzled confusion as
she told me how her clothes got her aroused! .

I rushed into my office, locked the door and
fantasized about poor conflicted Lisa getting dressed
in the morning, pouring each succulent suffering curve
into these sexy little clothes, then confessing to us
at the office with a demeaning little giggle.

Who was she fooling?

The next day at the office, I was surprised to feel
someone's arm hug me from behind. I turned and became
excited to see it was Lisa. As I faced her we
continued our embrace as her fingers played across my
back lightly. I wasn't sure what was going on, but I
was too far gone to try and stop it.

Then I felt embarrassed when I realized I'd misread
her touch upon seeing Lisa's teary eyes. Switching
gears from lust to compassion, I looked into her face
and tried some tears.

"Honey, what is it?"

" Ohh...It's just....well.....I'm so happy...." Lisa
whimpered
as she continued: " My boyfriend's coming back to the
states!" She said with a fresh batch of tears, as I
felt the floor fall out under me.

I somehow found the strength to pretend, to force
myself stand there as I reeled at the news. Lisa
continued mocking me with the soft little strokes on
my back as we embraced, her words echoing in my head:

Boyfriend? 

BOYFRIEND?????

Lisa cooed into my ear: "Jen? Can I ask you a favor?"


_____


I was still pissed from Lisa's suggestion I wear these
stupid pink high heels to bed tonight! I'd only bought
the things because of her, now she was mocking my
affection with such a weird request? Sometimes Lisa
was either the cruelest person on earth, or the
dumbest! Well, either way, fuck her, her boyfriend AND
her little shoe fetish! I tossed the pink high heels
in the back of my closet!

That night I woke up frustrated and teary eyed over
the shock of what Lisa really meant to me. I truly
cared for her, maybe even loved her. MY face grew hard
remembering her request. I don't know why it bothered
me so, but it seemed like a slap in the face. Sleeping
in them.

I dug up the single pair of one inch  heels I had. The
soles were all but falling out. Truly wretched things!
I sadly noticed my feet have put on weight, as well as
the rest of me. I could barely get into those size
eight's, and I used to do just fine.

I sat in my closet in total bewilderment, staring at
my old tiny little high heels. I must have allowed
myself to balloon up to a whopping size nine. Maybe it
was just my ankles, but I knew I'd put on weight the
last couple of years. I used to be able to get into
heels Lisa's size, cute little size sevens and a
half's, eight's, but a dozen sensible size NINE flats
all seemed to scream how obese I really was!

I reached down, stroking the little high heels sadly.
I bit my lower lip, and reached down for them, fixated
on FORCING myself into those damned size eight pumps,
just to PROVE I wasn't a total cow! Lisa's smug face
popped into my head, and I frowned at my own arousal.

I could work the toes in, but the heels just wouldn't
fit. I tried a shoe horn, and was soon huffing and
panting, even jumping up and down, desperate to sink
my fucking heel into those petite little numbers!

I plopped to the floor in pure frustration, and near
tears. My foot looked red and puffy from all the
effort.

I'd failed.

I'd never be as sexy or pretty or young as Lisa again.
I was just a fat old cow, one who she would even
masturbate with, now that her fucking boyfriend had
shown up! I cried some more tears and gave up,
slinking off to bed.

I had a disturbing dream of Lisa on her hands and
knees. She was dressed in a modest work blouse and
jacket but was nude from the waist down and wearing
only high heels. Lisa starts begging for a spanking,
so I start spanking her with a fly swatter. Tears
of sexual release stream down her cheeks as I demand
she confess her love  for me, but she won't. I felt
nervous spank her butt, but I'm furious she refuses to
confess her desires for me. 

Spanking's tiring my arm when Kristy appears, clad
in a authoritative suit and slacks, saying Lisa's
boyfriend was waiting in out front and I'd better
hurry up. I started to panic when I hear this and
Kristy starts to laughed as I find my arm growing weak
and I find it harder and harder to spank Lisa's bare
ass.

Kristy then tells me I'm blowing this simple task and 
takes Lisa's high heels off and hands them to me,
smugly 
saying It's time for me to trade places with Lisa -


I woke up, bathed in sweat, rubbing my clit furiously.
I was so embarrassed and aroused by my dream. I went
to the closet and looked at the heels I'd bought. For
her. My new shoes. It really pissed me off too, after
what she'd told me - dropping this 'boyfriend'
bombshell on me like this! Then the gall of asking me
to wear them to bed really made me burn with
humiliation!

I really hated sleeping in them too.  I'd have gladly
done it before she'd admitting to having a boyfriend!
But now it felt like further humiliation, a way to
keep me in my place, on the side. So I did it. Don't
ask me why. I laid there in bed, furious and grinding
my teeth together, imagining her betrayal of me, while
I dutifully lied here in bed decked out in these
stupid  Pumps. Lisa Pumps. Just like she wears to
work. Cute little Fuchsia pink, with little half inch
ankle straps. Four inches high....


And fucked myself silly through my tears.






End of part 1



This work is copyright (c) 2000 by cowgirl. You may  
download and keep copies for your personal use as long
 as the author's byline and e-mail address and this
paragraph remain on the copies. Please do not post
this story to any web site without permission from the
 author. All other rights reserved. No alteration of
the contents is permitted.


Cowgirl, Aka; jennifer can be reached at:
cowgirl_stupid@yahoo.com 



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