Weird Dreams, Ballet Boots

[ChipsHH]

I had a dream last night. I was daring the impossible: go around in ballet boots and see if anyone notices or questions it.

Actually, this was a continuation of another dream I had. The first dream, happened nights before, had me avoiding parental detection of me in the ballet boots. I either walked around the store or the parking lot, giving the boots a spin. I end up retreating quickly to the back seat so that mom didn't notice what I had on. (And thank goodness they were black!). This dream had mom heading into the house. She tasked me with going somewhere and retrieving a few things for the house. So I went onward to...wherever. It end up skipping to me meeting up with my friend at the college fitness facilities. Whatever happened here led to my friend driving out frantically for some unknown reason, and I went home. Or what I thought was home.

The front door was accessible, to which in real life, ours isn't. But for whatever reason, I thought it would be cool if I walked through the door in my ballet boots still, see if I would make it past mom's eyes easily. So once I made it in, with a pretty confident but still teetering walk, I hurried to my room, which was near the bathroom. Once in, I suddenly had to pee and proceeded to take off the boots. Yet...mom came out the bathroom at that time and I had only gotten one boot off. So I decided to quickly scatter into the bathroom, boot in hand and humming some tune, and closed the door behind.

Fin.

My question to you guys and gals: Have you all ever had similar dreams or completely different dreams, each with you having some sort of fetishy-type item on, in-hand, or off and you thinking about it? I seem to have them...every once in a while. The weird thing is: I'm usually thinking something totally different before I sleep for the night.

[HighHeelLover86]

Considering By background in BDSM I have on occasion had dreams that basically put me into the role of the mysterious person that controls those heels in the story The Stiletto Trap. Even though I identify myself sometimes as a person with a sexual heel fetish I most often dream of myself putting a girlfriend or unknown woman in extreme heels. This dream, which I will now try to put into written word, I have never told to anyone. Though it starts out being a bit kinky one might say it ends in an amazing and heart warming way I know its very long but I urge anyone who comes across it here to read it through as I know it will touch you, as it has me.

I am at home although its not the home I know. Its the dead of winter with snow outside. My doorbell rings and at the door. is a very tall blonde in a white blouse, proffessional looking black leather pencil skirt, fur lined leather trench. black decorative tights and knee high, high end black patent leather boots with pointed toe, 5 inch heels and no platform. She's selling AVON type stuff door to door so I proceed to inform her that no women live here but obviously she looking to get in from the cold and says she has products for men too. So I invite her in and tell her she can set up her stuff in the living room, which is out of sight of the front door. Eyeing her shoes I lie and tell her I just vaccumed and ask her to leave her boots by the front door. She complies and we go into the living room. Next I again lie and tell her I have to check on something in the kitchen and to please continue setting up. She apparrently thinks nothing of it as I slip back to the front door. I put on one of her boots and what do ya know a perfect fit, so I put on the other one as well.

Feeling mischevious now, I decide to walk back into the living room wearing her boots as if nothing at all was askew. She obviously takes notice but somehow stays quite professional not even mentioning it and proceeds with her product demonstrations. After a while though she slowly becomes more and more curious as to this scene unfolding as evidenced by her eye-balling me and her boots. Upon her conclusion of her product showcase I purchase what must be at least a hundred dollars of various colognes and such at which time she politely yet somewhat shakily asks for her boots so she can be on her way. Now the next part is where things get really interesting. I confidently look at her and reply "I tell ya what I'll buy another large order of your goods if you try on a pair of my boots before you leave. She hesitates for a moment thinking it over and agrees. I ask her to wait there as I go up stairs to retreive another pair of boots, still wearing hers I might add.

Upon my return I take the boot box and set in on the table, getting down on the floor in front of her. I tell her I'll put them on her but to close her eyes. Miraculously she complies although she is visibly suspicious. I put one boot on her then the other. she seems to be trying to guess in her mind as to what they look like because they obvioulsy feel different from any other boots she has worn. I fiddle with the buckles around each ankle as they make ckicking sounds and tell her to open her eyes. She makes a slight gasp as she peers upon a pair of ballet ankle boots for the first time. I stand outstretching my hand to help her to her feet but as she tries to stand she realizes that she just can't manage the height. she attempts a step forward but falls back onto the couch again. She then notices gloss black solid metal "Y" shaped buckles around her ankles and slides her hand along the band of one running between the heel and sole. As she makes an attempt to remove the boots the realization of her situation begins to sink in. Her face turns slightly pale as a bit of panic starts to set in.

She turns to me and asks what the metal yokes are for. I tell her they are to keep someone from taking the boots off as a grin stretches across my face. Suddenly she tumbles to the floor and attempts to at least crawl but realizes her pencil skirt is to tight and long to do this either. She looks up at me from the floor with a freightened expression and asks what I plan to do to her. I look her grinningly in the eye as I produce a suitcase from under the opposite couch on which I sit. I tell her how I've seen her selling her wares in this neighborhood for months but still driving that same ragged car and still wearing the same four or five outfits. I open the suitcase to reveal a treasure of cold hard cash and tell her if she will agree to stay the weekend doing whatever I ask I will give her this suitcase with all its contents.

Still visibly disturbed as to her current situation she looks at the mountain of cash for what feels like hours. Then her voice returning she very quietly asks if what I plan for her includes anything sexual. I tell her honestly, no, that I simply want to give her a helping hand but I want to have a little fun as well. As I stand I place the case on the table and begin to assist her back onto the couch from which she came noting her trembling slightly as I grab her to lift her up. As she settles back into her seat, her leather trench still worn, she looks seemingly into my soul through my eyes. Looking back and forth between her feet own feet, my feet, and the case full of cash on the table, obviously deep in thought, her silence breaks as see tells me she would have to call off a dinner date with friends on Saturday. I reach into my pocket to retrieve my cell phone. As I hand it to her I can see she is puzzled about my actions and tell her that I'm giving her my phone in case she wants to call the police so they can find her, and me, quickly. She stares at me with an even more puzzled look on her face as she slowly puts my phone down on the table reaching for hers in her purse. I sit quietly and confidently as she dials up her friend informing her, as she stares at her forced footwear, that she won't make it for dinner on Saturday.

As she hangs up she looks again at her "new boots" and at me, her face still pale, and stretches out her still trembling hand for mine in agreement of my offer. I smile wide as I close the suitcase handing it to her explaining that it already belongs to her as well as those boots if she so chooses after this weekend is over. She gives me a bit of a look staring a bit more curiously at these new boots and laughing slightly obviously to ease her own tension. Still very apprehensive she asks what I will have her doing over her "stay" with me and I inform her that the first thing is that those boots won't be coming off for the duration. Taken aback somewhat by this information she asks how she'll be able to do anything if she can't walk. I tell her that She'll just have to ask if she needs something. hesitantly she informs me of her pressing need for a bathroom break. Standing I take her hands guiding her upwards and escort her wobbling terribly to her destination all the while admiring her new silouette with those ballet boots on.

Arriving at the bathroom having to take her all the way in she is embarrassingly forced to take down her skirt and tights with me holding her up. I step out as she attends to her needs. Re-entering when called we proceed out, as she moves to go back to the living room, I stop her indicatiing that we'll be moving further down the hall. Still wary of me we move down the hall to a door, that as its opened, she gasps loudly at the sight before her. Not speaking and with a grin I take her inside this large room, possibly 20x20 feet that has on each wall, floor to ceiling shelves of varying heights along all four walls, each shelf full of all manner of heels. High ones, short ones, pumps, sandals, oxfords, booties, ankle boots, knee boots, thigh boots, with every style and color apparrently represented. Across from the door, a floor to ceiling mirror at least four feet wide separates the shelving and in front of the mirror a low bench seat covered in elegant red velvet.

Seating her in a chair off to one side of the mirror and bench I grinningly ask her to take a look around my collection and tell me what she would like me to try on first. As she gets a bit more comfortable with her situation she begins to get into the mood of things and after hours of trying on various shoes and strutting around in them for her she begins to smile. Out of nowhere she proclaims how insane this all is through her laughter. After another hour or so I put the dozens of pairs of shoes back on their shelves and escort her to the kitchen where we enjoy a meal and talk. I ask about her background, where she's from, and how she came to be a door to door salesperson, and she asks about my deal with heels and my story etc. The grandfather clock striking the hour interupts with its signature sound ticking off the eleventh hour and for a moment, as if the clock had awaken her from a trance she momentarily coils back into a heightened state of uneasiness. Asking what's wrong she states that she just realized she's been here for more than twelve hours and that realization had shocked her.

She pokes at her dinner quietly for a moment then without looking at me states that somehow we never exchanged names. I tell her mine, she tells me hers and at that moment she looks up. With a somewhat serious look on her face she tells a story of how when her day started that a situation like this was unimaginable to her and how after a while she had actually had some fun. She tells me that she enjoyed my cooking and that she was unexpectedly happy that she wouldn't have to sell anything to anyone this weekend. A bit stunned at this I sit silenly across from her smiling for what must have been an eternity just staring back at her. The moment breaks as she begins to yawn, then cracking another smile she, in a sarcastic tone asks if she'll be sleeping in "her" boots as well. I chuckle and remind her what I had said about them being on her the "entire" weekend and yes that included bedtime as well. Shruging she proclaims that it can't be that bad as I stand to escort her to bed.

I manage to get her upstairs which turned out to be a bit more difficult than I had anticipated and take her to the guest bedroom. I ask her if she intends to sleep in her clothes at which point she responds with "what choice do I have?" I open up the closet to show, not surprisingly more heels although these are more of a "bedroom" nature and hanging up is a selection of women's silk sleepwear. Quirking her mouth to one side with her hands on her hips as she sits on the bed she says "don't tell me you wear lingerie too?" "sometimes," I admit as I wave my arm like a game show model. "what will it be this evening ma' lady" I ask with comically exaggerated flouishes of my hand and a bow. She picks a pink pajama ensemble and I hand it to her. she asks about her tights so I tell she has a butt load of money to buy new ones with. She gets the idea as I pull out a closed pocket knife and hand it to her. I shyly look away as she starts to change at which time she says "really? If I'm gonna be pretty much imobile all weekend I realize you're probably gonna see me without my clothes at least partially." So I turn back and again comically begin to ogle her. "you don't have to be that obvious" she says as she finishes cutting away her tights except for what part are in the boots. She finishes changing as I look on and wish her good night retiring to my own room.

The next morning its to the bathroom then breakfast during which she seems very comfortable with this unique sitiation and even a bit joyful. I ask about her mood to which she replies that for the first time in her life she has to do absolutely nothing and how she finds it oddly soothing. Over the rest of breakfast she tells the story of her hard upbringing and how she's had to fight for everything and every dime she's ever had. We seem to bond over this similar life experience as breakfast conludes.

As we move to the living room to catch some TV she asked how this thing with heels got started for me. I tell her how at an early age I was fascinated with my fashionable aunt's collection that was moved in to my childhood home when she broke her ankle, losing her job and house. How I'd sneak out of bed to the room we had her stuff piled into and spend hours with her collection that seemed perfect because her heels fit me so well since she had such small feet. How I finally got caught by my mother one night and how the trouble I got into seemed to make me crave heels even more. The story of how I stayed late at school one day just to see if I could get my seventh grade teacher to let me try on her three inch pumps she liked to wear and how after I explained things to her she would bring pairs to school for me to wear during our private tutoring sessions. I even told her the story of how I lost a girlfriend in high school because she caught me wearing a pair of my own heels and how I had to deal with the ridicule after she told everyone at school. I told her practically my whole life story that morning, all the while admiring those ballet boots I had put on her and marveling at how she just sat and listened to the whole thing.

As I neared the end of my tale I could see that she was visibly moved as a single small tear rolled out of her eye. As we sat watching the now midday news she wrapped her arm around my shoulder and we sat not saying a word, flipping channels all afternoon. As the weekend drew to a close and we shared more stories of our lives. I finally removed those ballet boots from her feet and told her she was welcome to shower before she left. I left her in the living room where her product case still sat as well as the suitcase of money to go to the kitchen. As I returned I saw she, and her product case was gone, however the suitcase was still there as well as a note on top of it which read "You have no idea how much fun I had this weekend James." "I've taken the liberty of grabing a pair of pumps from your collection as well as taking you up on your offer to keep these boots I wore the weekend." "In exchange you can keep my boots since you were obviously very fond of them." "I couldn't bring myself to keep your money because I realized as I got to know you that even though I was, in essence, a prisoner for a weekend, you've been a prisoner practically your entire life." "I could never imagine how you must have felt growing up the way you did, feeling the way you do, especially considering where you come from." "In a way I'm glad we met the way we did and I want you to know that whenever I feel like the world is ganging up on me I'll take comfort in knowing if you can pull though then so can I." "I have a lot to think about in my life and a lot of decisions to make so I don't know if you'll see me again." "Sincerely, Melanie"

With tears streaming down my face I take the note and place it in the drawer of the side table, realizing that I heard her car drive away as I read her letter. In my dream time fastforwards day after day as I go to work and home back and forth, running errands, all the while thinking back to my weekend with Melanie. The dream seems to stop on a day in the future as I sit, a speckling a gray in my hair, watching TV seeing ads for Men's Designer Heels on sale at Macy's, advertisments for a documentary about a prominent public figure's life with "his" husband, and an ad for a support group for Transgender people in transition. I sit in my favorite patent pumps staring down at them thinking back to the era I grew up in and as always to that weekend. It seems in this dream life I never stop thinking about that weekend and my "character" as it were, in this dream suddenly realizes, as do I in my slumber, that something my grandfather, god rest him, always said was probably the truest statement ever spoken by anyone. "You can never know how someone else feels until you had a walk in their shoes."

At this point I wake up and a feeling a serenity washes over me as it always does when I have this dream, as I have had it probably hundreds of times. Its always exactly the same dream in every detail and it always comes when I feel exceptionally beaten down. I realize that this was practically a novella but for some reason I just had this uncontrollable urge to share it. Perhaps someone else will share it and it will bring to them the same feeling that I get when I dream it.

-Jamie-

As I got lost in typing I didn't even realize that actually this thread may of may not be the correct place for this story but I'm sleepy and full of allergy meds so I can't think clearly right now anyway lol. Just let me know one way or the other thanks.