Lucy Posted May 31, 2004 Share Posted May 31, 2004 Hi all high heel enthusiasts! This is Lucy posting! Recent newcomer Serenity has started posting her own excellent Serenity's Story on Jenny's Forum, but as all postings on that board will drop of the bottom, I hope she doesn't mind if I now copy it on to here where it will be preserved for everyone's permanent enjoyment, just like Spikesfan kindly did for my early chapters. Here it is then, the start of SERENITY'S STORY: - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - SERENITY'S STORY - "Introduction" Posted by Serenity on May 20, 2004, 3:59:11 Hi Everyone. First, I'd like to compliment Erica, Lucy, and Candice for the first-rate reporting they've been doing on so many of their high-heel experiences! My goodness! (And the others, too.) As for me, I'm way behind the 8-ball on all of this computer stuff, but I did stumble onto this forum a couple of years ago. After following it with some interest (because of my own interest in high heels), I became alarmed with the way a few of the contributors were being treated. Although I don't recall the details, it seems as though someone named Susan was being treated in a most discordant manner because of her viewpoints on certain issues. Because she was being treated so badly, I chose not to post here and for some time I stopped checking in. In the past few months, I've once again started viewing what's going on here. Erica, Lucy, and more lately, Candice have done an exellent job of reporting on the importance of high heels in their respective lives. And, it seems that the bickering and fighting that was so pervasive in the past is now laid to rest. Since the tone here is a bit more civil now, I thought I might dip my toe in the water, so to speak. My story is one that tells of yet another unique way in which high heels have played such an important part in my lifetime, which by now has extended much further in time than most any of the other participants here! So, if there's any interest in hearing a singularly unique tale of a (rather long) lifetime in high heels, please let me know. The names and certain other details will of course have to be changed to protect the guilty! :-) My love to you all, Serenity Life is not a rehearsal. Why not use it to present ourselves as smartly and attractively as possible? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lucy Posted May 31, 2004 Author Share Posted May 31, 2004 SERENITY'S STORY - "Background" Posted by Serenity on May 22, 2004, 5:26:38 Greetings to all. Providing you all with a bit of background may be helpful in your understanding of my story as it unfolds. (I'm starting to get goosebumps from the thought of sharing it!) Before we get into that, though, I'd like to thank Roger, sinkem, RPM, Paul, Stu, and Jim for their encouragement in my efforts. And a special thanks to Candice for her nice welcome. It was so comforting to see you speak of warmth and appreciation from the participants here, Candice. :-) And I do so much appreciate seeing how you met the man of your dreams and how your relationship developed! About me: Born in 1940 in the Western Hemisphere. My father was away at war during the early years of my life. One of my earliest memories was of his returning home to us (Mother and me) shortly before Christmas of 1945. Mother was so excited about his return, and it should be no surprise that her excitement was magnified in the eyes of a five-year-old. He was so handsome in his dress uniform! And my mother simply had to be the most beautiful woman on earth that day with her new navy dress, stocking seams pencil-straight, and those beautiful high heels! She had made sure that my new dress matched her own, but of course I had to do without the stockings and high heels. As you might guess, I was so proud of both of them, and from that day forth, I knew that I wanted to grow up to be a beautiful and well-dressed woman, just like my mother. Mother was the last word in the classic feminine beauty of her era. It seemed only natural that I would grow up to emulate those qualities. As for her, she always let me know what clothing was age appropriate for wearing in public, yet she had no qualms of my playing "dressup". She generously gave me the occasional pair of her castoff heels and other articles of clothing. She was petite; about 5'2". Her shoes were size 6, and my feet grew to fit into them some time during my eleventh year. You can believe that I was relentless in my efforts to walk properly in those castoff 4" heels. (At the time, I imagined myself to appear very "grown up" in them.) By my twelfth birthday, I was outgrowing her castoff shoes, and I begged her to buy for me my what would be my very own first pair of heels. I was surprised at how easily she agreed to my request, and in only a few days we shopped for and purchased a pair of white pumps with about a 2 1/2" heel. I was quite disappointed that she wouldn't allow me a pair of 4" heels, since I believed myself so accomplished in them, but she remained firm in her resolve that we would "work our way up" to the loftier heights. Even though my first pair of heels were not what I really wanted, I must admit to feeling less like a little girl and more like a young woman when wearing them to church or special family occasions. From that time on we would shop for me a new pair of heels every few months. Mother was good about allowing me ever-increasing heights, although the increments of increase were so much less that what I would have chosen. Then, at some time during my fourteenth year, shasam! An exciting new style of high heels appeared. They were called "stilettos". My mother couldn't get to the store fast enough for her first pair of them, and recognizing my own proclivity for high heels and stylish clothes, she even offered to buy me a pair of 4" heels to match her own. Like her, I was hooked. :-) By then, I had grown to my adult height of 5'8", and my feet had grown to size 9, where they thankfully stopped! In spite of my interest in pretty clothes and doing about everything I could think of to enhance a feminine visage, I was athletic and active, too. I golfed and played tennis, as well as becoming a cheerleader at school. Although most of my time was spent in skimmers, saddle shoes and penny loafers, I never missed a chance to dress up and wear any of my now several pair of 4" stilettos! After high school, I entered college, where I tried out and was selected for the cheerleading squad! Things were going so well, I couldn't imagine anything terrible on the horizon. I just knew that if I stayed out of trouble and kept focused on school and activities, good things would come. Ohmygosh, enough for now!! I'm hoping to get into my story with the next effort. Until then, my love to each and every one of you. Serenity Life is not a rehearsal. Why not use it to present ourselves as smartly and attractively as possible? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lucy Posted May 31, 2004 Author Share Posted May 31, 2004 SERENITY'S STORY - "My Story Begins" Posted by Serenity on May 23, 2004, 22:57:37 My greetings once again. I am so flattered that a contributor of Lucy's eminence would see fit to include me along with Candice as contributors of note. Thank you eversomuch! I must say that I've enjoyed every single one of your episodes, Lucy. Your vivid descriptions are simply smashing! Of course, the same could be said of Candice. And what would this forum be like without the likes of Erica as she keeps us updated on the latest happenings? What a relief to know that Lucy is now feeling well and back on track with her contributions. It's also nice to see the contributions by the guys, too. Good jobs, everyone! I was hoping to give a bit more background before commencing with my story, but have since decided that now is as good a time to start it as any. Flashbacks will serve to fill in the blanks. (I hope I can do that without breaking the continuity. As an aside, I never imagined how exhausting it is to write like this! I do hope it becomes easier with experience.) The airport, 1982: I giggled as my husband, Fred, whispered in my ear, "Be sure to get plenty of rest while I'm gone, because you're going to be kept up nights when I get back!" Well, what could I say? It was autumn, and Fred was departing for his annual moose hunt in Canada. It was a trip that he so looked forward to each year. I must mention that this was in the days before those ubiquitous cell phones that are around today. Part of the allure of this annual guided excursion into the Canadian Wilderness was the fact that he and his cronies would be totally out of communication with the outside world for an entire 2 weeks. Flown into a remote wilderness and deposited at some lakeside camp, they were allowed complete respite from the cares of the high pressure corporate world. I was fully aware of his need for this annual intermission, for he always returned invigorated, with his enthusiasm for everything (and I do mean everything) fully restored. A final kiss before he departed for his flight; his hand lingered a moment around my waist. It was our ritual that I turn to walk away first, knowing that he enjoyed the sight of my 5" heels carrying me away from him. A few paces and, as always, I stopped, turning to see the appreciation in his eyes as we waved good-bye before I was swallowed into the crowd. As I walked back to where the Continental was parked, I thought about what he had mentioned to me during our drive to the airport. He had noticed, he said, an estate sale going on in one of the affluent older parts of our city and had suggested that I might want to stop by there. What more encouragement would a girl need? I had always been curious about the old mansions and their contents, so this provided an excellent opportuntity to indulge my curiosity. It was still early in the morning as the Lincoln rolled to a stop near the house in question. (Fred's flight had departed about 7 a.m.) I felt a strange sense of familiarity, in spite of the fact that I'd never been there in my life. I mixed with the growing crowd in looking over the accouterments of an elegant lifestyle. I was completely at ease and relaxed, enjoying every minute of it. After perhaps an hour of browsing, I felt a compulsion to climb the stairway leading up to the second floor of the house. There was no one else on the second floor, and the sharp reports from my stiletto heels seemed to emphasize the emptiness. Passing an unnoticed doorway, a second impulse caused me to open it. A narrow stairway climbed to yet the third floor of this elegant old mansion. I tentatively climbed the stairs to find myself at the end of a narrow hallway on the top floor. I fairly tiptoed down the hall, drawn towards the second door on the left. Opening the door disclosed what surly must have been a storage room. A single narrow window, high on the wall, allowed a shaft of morning sunlight against the far wall at the opposite end from the door I had just opened. The room was empty, save for a pair of crutches leaning ominously against the wall, those being highlighted by that single shaft of light. I was practically mesmerized, standing there gazing across the empty room at those crutches. Then, an imperceptible draft of air fluttered the tag hanging by a string from the hand grips on the crutches. It seemed to beckon me. I tiptoed across the room, allowing my stiletto heels only the slightest contact with the underlying hardwood. Grasping the tag, on one side, in large marker print, it read, "ROSEWOOD CRUTCHES." Turning the tag over, I was nearly overcome with surprise to read, "SOLD: SERENITY NELSON." Serenity Life is not a rehearsal. Why not use it to present ourselves as smartly and attractively as possible? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lucy Posted May 31, 2004 Author Share Posted May 31, 2004 SERENITY'S STORY - "Story Continues (2)" Posted by Serenity on May 24, 2004, 5:39:47 My greetings to you all. By now most of you are probably wondering where in this story is the connection to high heels. From where I left off, it is now necessary to back up a bit. So, here we go.... Even before I noticed the tag dangling from the crutches, the sight of them had brought back a flood of memories from my college days. My freshman year of college had gone swimmingly well. I had put my high school cheerleading experience to work by turning out for and being accepted to the college cheerleading team, as mentioned in my background posting. The entire school year was a blur of activities, going to dances, cheerleading, and somehow finding the time to keep up with studies. I dated a lot of the college boys, enjoying the company of most, but never feeling attracted to any of them enough to consider going steady. My interest in keeping up my appearance manifested itself in my decision to wear slender skirts, nylons, and high heels as often as possible. By the middle of the school year, I had determined to wear heels daily. My wardrobe of heels seemed to maintain at about 7-8 pairs. Of these, most were 4" stiletto pumps in various colors with the pointed toes of that era and little adornment. I had two pairs of pumps with heels more like 4 1/2" which were reserved for dates or other outings that required being a bit more "dressed up". Then there were the lucite sandals, also with 4 1/2" heels for the formal dress of the many balls that were held at our school. Of course most other girls wore heels for the dances and other social occasions, but to my knowledge, I was the only one who wore stiletto heels daily on campus. The transition from flats to heels for the walking required on campus was for me, really quite easy. I must have been one of those for whom wearing heels came quite naturally, for I really don't recall much discomfort or any other problems associated in the transition. At any rate, by the end of the school year wearing heels daily was by then a very natural thing. Of course I was still wearing flats for cheerleading and other athletic activities, so I never did go "permanent" into the heels. But, wearing nice clothes and high heels had become, for me, a part of my regular routine. Then, between my freshman and sophomore year, what turned out to be a life-altering event (in ways most unexpected) occured. A traffic accident put me in the hospital with a broken pelvis. There wasn't much that the doctors could do for my pelvis at the time. I was bedridden for about a month, then finally managed to struggle out of bed on crutches just in time to get back to college for my second year. Of course, cheerleading and athletic activities were out of the question. But, I determined early on that being on crutches would NOT deter me from my resolve to wear high heels, and so from day one of that year I shuffled around campus on my crutches while in 4" stiletto pumps. After only a few days on campus, Fred had introduced himself and kept coming around to check on me. I found myself enjoying his company, and by the end of the first week, he had asked me on a date. In spite of my delicate condition, I saw no reason to decline. (Although I was quite capable of getting around with my high-heel/crutches combination, my slowly mending pelvis required that I be extremely careful to not re-injure myself. Getting in and out of cars, not bumping door frames or table tops; things of that nature had to be carefully watched. And of course, heavy petting was absolutely out of the question!) Fred and I seemed to hit it off like hand-and-glove. He was the perfect gentleman and most attentive to the problems associated with my being on crutches. Also he was most protective of my injury. He never rough-housed with me and was always sure to open doors, position chairs for me, and so forth. I much appreciated his concern for my condition, and to this day believe that it was one of the things that brought us together. (Hence, one of the "unexpected" aspects of the life-altering accident.) In only a couple of months I believed him to be "the one", and apparently he felt the same about me. He visited my parents over Thanksgiving Break, and I (still on crutches) traveled to his home over the Christmas Holidays. It was then that he surprised me with an engagement ring, which I joyfully accepted. School was going well. The time I had devoted to activities the previous year was now available for studying, and for Fred. This was his senior year, so we planned to be married as soon as school was out in the spring. As you can see, my relationship with him was progressing very nicely, too. But, as careful as I might be with my pelvis, it was slow in healing. It was January before I was able to bear even the slightest amount of weight on my injured left side. From then on, progress was steady, but slow. Towards the end of the school year, although walking without crutches was possible, my gait was NOT a thing of beauty. I absolutely did not want to be seen lurching around campus like a wounded buffalo, so the crutches remained a permanent fixture with me throughtout the remainder of the school year. There never had been any trepidation on my part about being seen on crutches. I felt completely at ease while using them, and in fact, came to think of it as being quite natural for me. Hence, there was no perceived rush to hurry up and get off of them. Neither did Fred encourage me to do so. In fact,it was quite the opposite, as he cautioned me about being too quick to challenge the use of my injured left side. Just as the school year was ended, I determined that my walking gait had returned to a normal condition. And so, when we were married one week later, I was able to walk down the aisle sans crutches in a pristine pair of 5" stiletto pumps, giving no thought whatsoever to my injury or any discomfort associated either with it or with my new shoes. I was one happy young lady who was being married to a man whom I felt much the same way about as Candice has described with her Ted. Things couldn't have been better. To be continued....... My love to you all. Serenity Life is not a rehearsal. Why not use it to present ourselves as smartly and attractively as possible? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Lucy Posted May 31, 2004 Author Share Posted May 31, 2004 SERENITY'S STORY Continued (3) Posted by Serenity on May 31, 2004, 4:01:28 Greetings once again. My particular thanks to Roger, sinkem, RPM, Paul, Stu, Jim, Candice, Mario, Heelfan, Erica, and last but certainly not least, Lucy for their words of encouragement. I do hope my story will add to the variety of this forum. So there I was in the third-floor storage room of the lovely old mansion, being flooded with memories brought about by the sight of this most elegant pair of rosewood crutches. Can you imagine the impact I felt at seeing that they had already been reserved for me, especially in light of the inexplainable compulsions that had led me to the second, then third floors of the house and finally straight to this very room? Just as the wonderment of the moment was engulfing my consciousness, coincidently was I also recalling the awareness that my pelvis injury of those many years ago had been of late causing some discomfort. I was feeling a certain amount of stiffness and pain in my hip and pelvic area. Although not disabling, it was getting progressively worse. For the mostpart I had put concern of it aside, but the crutches were a most effective reminder, and my thought was that it might be nice to have them to use, just temporarily, in order to provide a bit of a rest for the overexertion which was beginning to cause this discomfort to my "aging" body. I grasped the crutches and placed them under my arms. To my amazement they were a perfect fit. Tentatively, I raised my left foot a bit and took a few paces around the room. The skill acquired those 23 years ago returned instantly, and the nagging little pain in my hip abated immediately. It felt as natural and comfortable to be on them as I had remembered. As explained earlier, high heels had gone from being important in my wardrobe to "key" during my freshman year of college. It wasn't a large stretch to imagine that I was noticed for my manner of dress, and in fact, I rather enjoyed knowing this. Additionally, I had a premonition that my being on crutches had been what attracted Fred to me. After all, I had spent the entire second half of my freshman year nicely dressed and in high heels. For the sophomore year, the only thing to change was that I was on crutches. Even though we were both at the same school during my first year, Fred had never appeared to notice me at all. Then, when I showed up on crutches for the second year, in only a few days he had not only noticed me, but had actively sought me out and lavished me with attention. Although we didn't discuss it, deep down, I knew there was a connection. Because of this, I assumed that Fred had somehow managed to arrange the purchase of these crutches which I was now admirering. Explaining my premonition to climb the stairs and find this one particular room remained a mystery. But, I somehow felt that my Fred would be pleased to see these crutches in our home. I held them out for closer inspection. They were shingle-shaft, which is a rather unusual design. The shaft on each of them ran straight from the bottom up to a point between elbow and shoulder height, where they bent in a graceful arch of nearly 90 degrees. This arch made it possible for them to to receive the underarm (also rosewood) saddles which were attached. They were not adjustable for height. The hand grips were also attached at a fixed height, not adjustable. Remarkably, they fit me perfectly. The luster of the polished redwood emitted an aura of warmth and elegance. Although irregularities in the finish revealed wearspots which belied countless hours of use, there were no blemishes or nicks. The rubber tips at the bottom were new. These crutches appeared to have been reconditioned to perfect condition. I quietly exited the room and retraced my steps to the main floor, carrying them with me. Walking up to the counter where the sale of items were transacted, I was surprised to be greeted by name. An attractive woman of about my age, nicely dressed and coiffed, said, "It's so nice to see you here today, Mrs. Nelson. I see that you've found your order." I nodded in acknowledgment, and was about to walk away when she continued, "The rest of it will be delivered tomorrow. I'll look forward to seeing you then." "You know where I live?" "Everything is taken care of. I'll be seeing you around nine o'clock in the morning." She smiled. I was befuddled and seemed to have lost my ability to think fast enough to question her about what this was all about. I attempted to return her smile, then took my new crutches to the car and drove home. Arriving at the house, I took the new crutches to the bedroom and leaned them on the wall close to my bed. I then changed into my work clothes for some gardening chores. After spending the rest of the day working in the flower beds, I seemed to notice a bit more of a "hitch" in my bad hip than usual, which I dismissed as the result of an abnormally active day. After dining alone that evening, I sought out a pair of my 5 1/2" heels and decided to give the crutches a try with the higher heels. If anything, the crutches seemed to be an even better fit with the 5 1/2" heels than with the 5" heels I'd been wearing when I first tried them. Very interesting, I thought to myself. Fred should like this... Putting the heels and the crutches away, I returned to the flower garden to dig up some bulbs which I wanted to transfer to another bed. The sack which I'd put them in was rather heavy. When I lifted it, I turned at the waist and immediately felt a stab of pain in my lower back. Ohmygoodness. I had to leave the sack where it lay, and was barely able to shuffle my way back into the house. I took a couple of aspirin and a long hot bath. Even after that, moving my lower legs proved difficult, but I got myself into bed and promised that I'd call my doctor in the morning if it didn't feel better. Love, Serenity Life is not a rehearsal. Why not use it to present ourselves as smartly and attractively as possible? Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted July 2, 2004 Share Posted July 2, 2004 Posted by Serenity on June 10, 2004, 5:24:05 My goodness, it's been such a long while since I last posted that I hope I haven't been forgotten here. My thanks to all who have offered words of encouragement in keeping my efforts going, and particularly to Stu and Heelfan, whose last replies to me have gone unanswered until now. You are absolutely correct that my story does have a different twist to it which will become increasingly evident as it unfolds....... We left off when I had gone to bed suffering from a pinched nerve in my lower back. My ability to walk was reduced to a mere shuffling of my feet, and I was so relieved to finally crawl into bed where I immediately fell into one of the deepest sleeps of my life. I awoke the next morning feeling more rested than I could ever remember. I had not a care in the world; a sense of serenity seemed to have permeated the room and everything in it, myself included. I raised myself up and placed my feet on the floor only to have a stab of pain remind me of the previous nights circumstances. Oh, what have I done to myself, I asked. Then it began to occur to me that getting myself out of bed was going to be a problem. Even such a simple thing as putting my feet flat on the floor caused almost unbearable pain. Maybe a pair of heels would help with that? The 5 1/2" heels from last night were lying nearby. My only way of getting to them was to roll out of bed on my hands and knees. I actually had to crawl to them! And then back to the bed. Astonishingly, putting the shoes on provided immense, almost complete relief from the pain. But upon standing up, was I ever surprised to discover that I could not walk! Rising to a standing position had seemed almost normal for me, but once on my feet, they would not move! The feet wouldn't do anything I wanted them to do. And I couldn't teeter for long in such impossibly tall heels without moving them. This is rediculous, I told myself. Whatever am I going to do now? Then my eyes fell on the crutches leaning nearby where they'd been placed the night before. Back on my hands and knees to get to them, then back to the bed, where I raised up again to a standing position. With the support of the crutches, balancing was no longer a problem. Leaning my weight on them, I was able to swing my legs forward, so yes, walking was now possible. I was so thankful to have the crutches there! I went into the bathroom with the intention of applying makeup and making myself ready for a visit to the doctor. I would call his office in another hour or so after people were at work there. I readied myself in much the same manner as on any other day, combing out my hair, applying makeup, dawning proper undergarments, garter-strapping my nylon stockings. Of course these things I did while sitting in front of a mirror. Rising to move myself from sink to mirror, or to a drawer for nylons proved easy enough to do. Only a slight nagging pain persisted. But, the crutches were absolutely necessary in getting about. After dressing, it occured to me that I might appear a lot less conspicuous with more conservative heels on, so I went to my shoe closet and dug out a pair of 4" heels to match my suit. Imagine my disconcert upon discovering that the minor pain I had been experiencing increased severalfold as I changed into the lower heels. Back in the 5 1/2" heels, the pain once again abated to a tolerable level. An 8:00 call to my doctor resulted in an 11:00 appointment. I went to the kitchen for a bite of breakfast. Then, at precisely 9:00 the doorbell rang. I hitched my way to the door on my crutches to discover the lady who had assisted me at the estate sale the day before at the door. If it surprised her to see me on the very same crutches from yesterday, she did an excellent job of concealing it. "Good morning, Mrs. Nelson," she smiled as though not a thing in the world was wrong. "You look ravishing this morning. How nice of you to be so prepared for our 9:00 appointment." I said something to her about it not being a good morning, that I had other things needing my attention. She sweetly, but authoritively reminded me that she had come to deliver more items from the estate and that it was paramount she be allowed to complete her mission. I stepped back, opening the door for her. "Won't you please come in." Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted July 2, 2004 Share Posted July 2, 2004 Posted by Serenity on June 11, 2004, 4:35:16 She stepped over the threshold past me, walking several steps into the foyer before she stopped and slowly turned, her eyes taking in every detail of the room. This gave me time to notice several things about her, as well. Although I had noticed that she was an attractive woman the day before, I hadn't noticed just how attractive. About my same age, her handsome features were pleasantly accented with just the right amount of makeup. Her suit was cut very simliar to my own, creating a business-like image with a definite feminine flair. I recall being thankful that there was at least a possiblity that the image I had attempted for these past serval years was achieveable, after all. Additionally, her feet were encased in 5" calfskin stiletto pumps. Her gait was easy, natural, and flowing, as if she were born to wear the highest of heels with no concern whatsoever. The shoes, and certainly her demeanor in them, put the crowning touch on her appearance. "You have a lovely home, Mrs. Nelson," she said as she stepped back towards me. "My name is Karen Cromwell." She offered her hand. I didn't know what to think, halfway expecting her to fuss over my plight of being on the crutches. But she acted as if everything was perfectly normal. "I'd love a cup of tea," she continued. "Would you mind?" I indicated the direction of the kitchen, and found myself following her there, the sharp reports of her high heels echoing from the hardwood floor. Once in the kitchen, she simply took over. Asking where things were as she set water to boil and rounded up the serving ware, it almost seemed more as though we were in her kitchen than in mine as she busied herself and effortlessly made small talk at the same time. The estate business that she had stated was so paramount never seemed to come up, so I finally had to ask her what what it was that had brought her to my home. She responded by asking if I had made an appointment to see a doctor yet. Looking at my watch, I said that I had, and in fact the appointment was coming up soon, at 11:00. "Oh, good. I'll take you there, then." It was more of statement of fact than a mere offer to help. Her tone carried the authority that what she said was a given. There would be no arguing about it. And besides, I could use some support in my first venture outside the house in my new situation. More as I'm able..... Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted July 2, 2004 Share Posted July 2, 2004 Posted by Serenity on June 12, 2004, 4:20:20 The visit to the doctor's office was what you might expect. After waiting what seemed like forever, I was ushered back to an examination room. He seemed surprised to see me on crutches and of course asked a lot of questions. He poked and probed, lifted my feet and legs, all of this with a concerned frown on his face. He bluntly asked if I could manage on the crutches without risking further injury from taking a fall. I assured him that there seemed to be no other option, other than a wheelchair, which I was by no means ready to accept. He then told me that he of course had no authority to demand it, but that as my doctor, he strongly recommended that I give up the high heels and avail myself of some more sensible shoes. It was then that I told him about the insufferable pain and that only by wearing my highest heels was it bearable at all. This latest bit of information was of course followed by more questions, and I do recall noticing a bit of change in his attitude. He finished up by writing out a prescription for pain medication and reiterating his intructions to quit the high heels. He also assured me that the swelling from the pinched nerve in my back should subside in a week or so and things would return to normal. He would have me back in a couple of days when the test results were all in. Karen was absorbed in a novel when I came back to the waiting room. She smiled, tucking the paperback into her purse as I approached. As we made our way back to her car, I began to realize how thankful I was to have her along. The trip to the doctor's office had been filled with easy-flowing conversation. It seemed already that we were old friends. It wasn't until we were brewing up another pot of tea in my kitchen that she asked me about what the doctor had said. I replied that he thought the swelling would subside after a week or so, and that things would return to normal. In the meantime, he wanted me in flat shoes and had prescribed a painkiller. Her reaction surprised me. "That doctor doesn't have a clue what's going on with you," she said. "No amount of painkillers will do a bit of good." She sipped a bit of tea while I ruminated on what she'd just said. "You, yourself, even told him that you'd figured out that the high heels stopped the pain." "But I still have pain. It's not gone completely." Smiling, she reached for and opened the satchel which she'd brought inside with her. "The other things I mentioned I'd be bringing yesterday," she explained. Out came a pair of calfskin pumps, the highest heels I'd ever seen, at least 6 inches. She offered them for my inspection. "Didn't you tell me about the 4 inch heels not giving you nearly as much relief from the pain as the 5 1/2 inch you're wearing now?" Of course, it registered on me. "But, I've never worn heels so high as those," I protested. "And now, with these crutches, how could I ever...?" "It's the crutches that make it all possible, my dear," she replied. "After all, they are an aid to mobility, not a hindurance. All you have to do is stand on your feet. The walking is accomplished through the assistance of the crutches. You'll see. Let's try it." Without waiting for my reply, she was at my feet, gently wrestling the 5 1/2 inch heels that I'd been in all day from my feet and pressing the new 6 inch heels on. Ohmygoodness! The difference was astounding. At such lofty heights, even a miniscule difference in the heels seem to make all the difference in the attitude of the feet and ankles. It's just as Lucy decribed when she told of finding herself stranded in the "Betty Pages". It was all my ankles could do to accommodate the demands of the extreme heels. But, I also noticed a corresponding regression of the remaining pain in my back. I came to the full realization that the higher the heels, the lesser the pain. TBC Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted July 2, 2004 Share Posted July 2, 2004 Posted by Serenity on June 16, 2004, 5:10:15 Karen extracted the next item from her bag. Seeing no sense of recognition on my face, she said by way of explanation that they were foot trainers. Their most common use, she explained, was to train the foot and ankle in order to achieve one's personal maximum height in heels. "No doubt, I'm there already," I blurted, not believing that I could possibly wear heels than what she had just placed on my feet. "You may believe that right now, but after training with these, you should be able to go at least 1/4 inch, possibly as much as 1/2 inch higher with the heels. At these extreme heights, it is necessary to diligently pursue even the smallest of increments. I'll help you get started with these tonight." "Really, you don't have to." I can still remember the way she hesitated before answering to that statement. Her composure demanded attention, and she quietly sat there with her eyes locked onto mine until she was certain of my total attention. "Oh, but I must," she said. "Let us not forget that I am here at the behest of The Estate. I am here to attend to your every need and to assist in all ways your transition." Foot trainers? Transition? For the first time it flashed through my mind that perhaps the doctor had been wrong when he said that I should be back to normal in a week or so. Hadn't Karen said something about him being clueless about what was going on with me? I paced across the kitchen on my crutches. My image reflected in the sliding door that opened to the patio. I stopped my pacing to study it for a moment. I could also see Karen's reflection as she sat at the kitchen table, her eyes following my every move. Turning slowly to face her, I said from across the room, "It seems as though you know a great deal about what's happening. What should I know about? Is there something you should be telling me?" TBC Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted July 2, 2004 Share Posted July 2, 2004 Posted by Serenity on June 17, 2004, 4:23:27 After yet another pause, Karen smiled at me in the most engaging way. "You're doing unbelievingly well on the crutches, Mrs. Nelson. Today is only your first day on them, and yet you move about with uncommon competence and no indication of discomfort." She paused. "But then I would suppose your previous experience is coming into play." I was more put off at her not answering my questions by changing the subject than flattered by her praise of my ability with the crutches. Then it hit me that she'd referred to my previous experience. Did she know that I'd spent an entire school year on crutches? And if so, how? "You think I may have used crutches before?" I asked. "There's no way you couldn't not have." I was a bit aggravated at how her replies implied that she knew more than what she actually said. "Anyone with your fluidity of movement would have to have had months of full-time crutch use." As she spoke, she rustled another parcel from her satchel. Unwrapping the package, she withdrew a glossy 8x10 black and white photo. "Mrs. Nelson, have you seen pictures of the late Mrs. Vanguard?" How odd that she asked me about photos of the very lady whose crutches I was now using. Realizing that I had not, I sidled up beside her for a look. The blood must have drained from my face as I looked at the picture. It was a full-length profile of a striking lady, well dressed, standing fully erect on the very crutches now under my own arms. I couldn't help but notice her shoes. They looked so much like the ones Karen had just helped me on with. The extreme heel height forced the arches of her feet forward to the extent that her insteps had actually gone past verical! The graceful curve of her calves tapered to slender and attractive ankles, all of this emphasized by the elegant curvature of her insteps. Her wide-belted skirt fit tightly, hugging her hips and legs down to where it ended at the knees. A plain white long-sleeved blouse with a stand-up collar hugged her bodice. Her hair was done up in a French Roll, adding an air of sophistication to her cultured image. But the most outstanding thing was that it was like looking at a picture of myself. It took no imagination to project that in another 10 years I would be able to step right into that picture. After the longest time, Karen finally asked, "Interesting, don't you think?" I pulled my gaze away from the picture to her. She pulled a second photo out. Can you imagine my astonishment at seeing a photo of myself? It was taken all those many years ago when I was on crutches in college. This one was also a full-body photo, taken from a front profile. I was smiling, in mid-stride on my crutches, my stiletto heeled right foot extended, just ready to meet with the concrete sidewalk on which I was walking, my left knee bent to keep that foot from touching the ground. Although pleasantly surprised at what a sophisticated image I projected in my youth, I was agitated at seeing evidence that I had been stalked. "Did you notice any similarity?" Karen asked, ignoring my state of agitation. I hitched around to a chair and seated myself, bending over to carefully place the crutches on the floor. "What is going on?" I asked, hoping that my voice sounded authoritive. "I think there's a lot that I need to know." Karen reached across the table to pat my hands. "My dear Mrs. Nelson," she began. "As you've come to realize, recent events have been momentous. I agree that the time has come for some explanation." TBC Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted July 2, 2004 Share Posted July 2, 2004 Posted by Serenity on June 23, 2004, 5:20:56 Sitting across the table from Karen, I began to realize what an unperturbed and indomitable image she projected. A woman of great strength and character, no doubt. Sensing that I'd do much better with her as my friend than as an enemy helped me in framing my thoughts a bit before putting my foot in my mouth, so to speak. She seemed to be waiting for me to open the dialogue. "You could probably tell from my reaction that I was surprised to see that you had a picture of me," I began. "Would you mind explaining where it came from and how you happen to have it?" Her eyes met my level gaze without so much as a hint of fear or agitation. She smiled. "I will explain," she said. "But first things first, so it may take a while to get to your specific question. In order to come to the answers, we must go back a long, long ways..... Mrs. Nelson, did you know that you were adopted as a baby?" No doubt she could tell from my reaction to that bombshell of a question that I had never heard of such a thing. She went on to tell me that my birthmother had gotten pregnant under rather "unfortunate circumstances". (Be remindful that in those days, circa 1940, illegitimate births were regarded as shameful to many families.) Even worse than carrying the shame of an illegitimate baby, my birthmother died within hours of delivering me. Her family, although devastated by the trauma of going through all of this, promptly decided that the best option was to put me up for adoption, which they did. They also took an active "behind the scenes" role in choosing my adoptive parents with the goal of seeing that I was raised in the best possible circumstances. In this endeavor, they did exceedingly well, as you readers could tell from my earlier description of my parents and the way they raised me. Karen then went on to explain that my birthmother's parents, the Vanguards, had throughout my life kept an eye on me. This was done with the greatest of stealth; neither my parents nor myself had ever suspected that we were being "watched", but we were. All through my growing up years the Vanguards were pleased with the knowledge that I was so very secure in my role as a fashionable and sophisticated young lady of the era. Then in college, when the hip injury resulted in my being on crutches for nearly a year, they were delighted by the way that Fred, my future husband, had come into my life and also by the way I adapted so easily to relying on crutches for mobility. They were equally impressed that I managed this without giving up my stiletto heels. Our lives, Fred's and mine, were allowed to progress with no interruptions from the Vanguards right up to and until the fateful day only a couple of weeks previous, when Mrs. Vanguard had passed away. (Her husband had predeceased her.) At her death, the spell which had ordained her to a lifetime in heels of the most extreme heights as well as total dependance on crutches was now passed on to me, the grandchild of the Vanguards. The spell had been passed on, of course, by my own attraction to and subsequent use of my very own grandmother's crutches. I sat there unable to comprehend, much less to believe what Karen had just revealed to me. Adoption? A spell? Did this mean that my doctor was wrong when he had said that I'd be back to normal in a matter of days? Had Fred known what he was doing when he suggessed I stop by that estate sale to look things over? What was going on??? "Miss Cromwell," I started..... "I hardly know what to ask. It is simply unbelievable." "Unbelievable?" she replied. She leaned towards me over the table, speaking quietly. "Then try taking off those majestic heels you're wearing and feel the pain that will throw you to the floor if you attempt standing in your bare feet. And once you've tried that, then put the shoes back on, stand, and try taking even so little as one single step without your crutches." She paused. "What more will you need in order to believe?" I decided to accept her challenge. After reaching down with one hand to remove the 6" heels from my feet, I placed both hands on the tabletop and started to rise from my seat. I barely got off the chair when a searing pain shot from my feet up through both legs into my lower back and sure enough, I toppled over. The pain was both rapid and unbearable, but abated as soon as I fell and got the weight off my feet. I groped for my shoes and got them back onto my feet as rapidly as possible. Even though embarrassed by my performance, I was determined to follow through on the second part of Karen's challenge. The shoes, I noticed, seemed to drive off most of the remaining pain from my flummoxed attempt at standing barefoot. After some struggle, I managed to gain my feet and rise to a standing position beside the table, my hand resting on the tabletop for balance. There, I could stand. But, it didn't take long to realize that was all I was capable of. What Karen had known all along was proven to be true. Try as I might, I could not move one foot or the other in any direction. It was if my feet were glued to the floor! Becoming alarmed at the prospect of not being able to move at all, I bent at the waist in order to retrieve my crutches from their resting place on the floor. Tentatively placing them under my arms, I leaned forward, extending the crutches to accept my weight as my lower body swung forth to complete a step forward with the crutches. It worked! I was so relieved to know that I was still able to walk with the use of those beautiful crutches. TBC Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted July 2, 2004 Share Posted July 2, 2004 Posted by Serenity on June 24, 2004, 4:31:43 For some reason, I felt the need to keep moving. After experiencing the embarrassment of toppling over from the excruciating pain that shot through me when attempting to stand barefoot, it simply felt good to be on my feet, moving around, albiet with the crutches. Pacing about in the kitchen, the realization that I had been unable to move my feet while standing at the table slowly worked upon my mind. Up to now, I hadn't been much concerned about the necessity of using crutches. After all, the doctor had indicated my condition was indeed, temporary. They were simply a convenience to be employed as my body returned to normal. I hadn't given much thought as to why I was unable to walk without them. But now, walking about in the kitchen, I was slowly becoming aware that when standing, I was unable to move one leg, foot, or even toe independant of the other. In other words, if I were to bend one knee, the other bent along with it. If I flexed the big toe on my right foot, so would the same toe on my left foot flex in unison. If I were to place one foot forward, the other advanced right along with it at the same pace. Hence, my inability to move either foot while standing at the table. In order to move my feet, it was absolutely imperative to have crutches which would carry my weight, thus allowing me to advance my feet in unison. Karen silently watched as I paced about, patiently waiting to see where our conversation might lead next. I stopped my pacing and turned to face her. "My doctor," I said. "Didn't you say something about him being clueless about my condition?" Karen got up from the table and busied herself with the teapot as she spoke. "That is correct," she offered in a matter-of-fact tone. "At the present time, he believes the swelling in your back will recede and you'll soon be back as you were before." She turned to face me squarely. "But he's wrong." She poured some tea. "Then, as he tries to diagnose what he can't see, he will prescribe painkillers and tranquilizers. He will admonish you to quit the high heels. Eventually, when he has discovered that no matter what, your condition remains unchanged, and that nothing he recommends offers any hope of relief or cure, he will diagnose you with hysterical paralysis. Of course he may give it some other name, but the essance of his diagnosis will be that your condition is psychosomatic." She walked closer to me. "Relief from pain will be achieved by wearing the highest heels possible. Mobility will be achieved by use of your crutches. That's the way it is, Mrs. Nelson. You can waste your time and money and cause yourself untold grief by following the instructions of others. Or," she raised her teacup from the saucer in her hand to her lips, "you can accept what I have told you as the truth. If all goes well, you will be in heels at least one-quarter of an inch higher than what you're wearing right now, pain free, and feeling upbeat by the time your husband returns from Canada. "If, on the other hand, you should choose to follow your doctor's instructions, your condition will deteriorate, you'll be in constant pain, and could even become invalid by the time Mr. Nelson returns." She gave me a moment to think about all that she'd said, then continued. "As you think about the things I've told you, remember that everything I've told you would happen so far has happened." Her eyes bore into my own. "I want you to know that you can trust me." "You want me to stop seeing my doctor?" I asked. "On the contrary," she replied. "By all means, keep your next appointment with him and you'll see that everything I've said is true. See him another time or two, if you need more convincing. But, I warn you that if you attempt following his instructions, it will only worsen your condition." I needed to sit down. "This doesn't get us much closer to the picture of me I asked you about," I said as I returned to the kitchen chair. "All in good time, Mrs. Nelson," she smiled as she also sat at the table. "We need to talk about the foot trainers for a minute." She then went on to show them to me, how the arch of my foot would be placed over a rod between the shaft at either side of the trainer while a leather strap went over my the lower part of my instep, just above my toes. Then, by pulling the parallel shafts that extended towards my knees forward, the lower part of my foot would be forced downward while at the same time my arch would be forced forward. This pressure would cause the ankle to be positioned to my personal maximum high heel position. At the same time, the arch and instep of my foot were forced forward to create a beautifully arched silhouette which results from continual wearing of maximum height heels. She told me that with regular use of the trainers, I would soon be in heels one-quarter-inch higher than the 6-inch heels currently on my feet. And she added that it wouldn't be much longer until I would most likely be able to acheive another quarter-inch to that. I could tell that she sensed my approval, perhaps even excitement about the possiblity of wearing six and one-quarter to six and one-half inch heels. "You'll be wearing the foot trainers to bed every night for the next several nights." She made it sound like a given fact, and I understood it as such. TBC Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted July 2, 2004 Share Posted July 2, 2004 Posted by Serenity on June 28, 2004, 1:02:37 To the readers: I feel obligated to remind you of the complicated issues that got me to where my story is to date. Firstly, all through my life I had enjoyed high heels. I may have been considered "over the top" by always appearing outside my home in heels of 4 to 5 inches. My occasional appearance in 5 1/2 inch heels may have also contributed to this image. :-) Even so, I was not "locked" into high heels. I did my gardening and much of my housework at home in flats. But, as it was a rule of mine to always be in heels when leaving home, a good many of my acquaintences never saw me in anything but heels, and may have believed that I was "locked in". I of course was subjected to the same comments and speculations as all the other high-heel-wearing women on this forum have mentioned. It was usually easy for me to put questions to rest in a most pleasant manner, as I believe that it soon became apparent that my pleasure in heels was genuine and was accepted as such. Secondly, although it had been years since I had been on crutches, I was experienced and capable on them. Not only that, but the year I had spent on them was up to that point the best year of my entire life. Everything that a girl of my age at the time could want was happening to me during that year. Of course, meeting Fred and having him pursue me as he did would have to be at the top of that list! (Thank you, Fred!) My decision to carry on in high heels despite the necessity of crutches most certainly confirmed my dedication to high heels. And, I never felt "out of place" or unnatural because of the crutches. They were simply something I used. Unusual as it may sound, I didn't give them much more thought than I might think about which jacket to put on in colder weather. Of course I was aware of the extra attention they attracted. But, I knew that so long as I strove to project the best possible image, I had nothing to be ashamed of or apologize for. In a nutshell, I was comfortable with myself while on the crutches and felt completely "natural" on them. (Did I secretly enjoy the extra attention? Well, perhaps!) Thirdly, for some months previous to my spotting the crutches at the estate sale, my hip had been bothering me enough that upon seeing the crutches, the first thought in my head was how nice it might be to have a pair of them in the house for occasional use in order to provide rest for the injured hip. That, coupled with the powerful memories of the good things that happened while using them those many years ago, erased any hesitation I might have about wanting them. The point is that in my mind, there was nothing "bad" about having a pair of crutches around or in using them occasionally. So, yes, I was excited about acquiring crutches so elegant as these were, and it was perhaps this excitement which caused me to not be aware of the oddities which followed. Namely, that the crutches were already consigned to me and that the people conducting the sale were aware of who I was. It simply didn't sink in. So here we were in my kitchen, Karen and I. The things she was telling me were simply overwhelming. Even though my anxiety about the whole thing was much less than what most people would have experienced (because of the things discussed above), I do admit to being a bit slow on the uptake, too. Was I concerned about being on crutches? Yes, but not fearfully so. Admittedly, the concept of permanence hadn't fully set in yet. Was I excited about the new shoes? New shoes were (and still are) always of interest. The ones Karen produced from her satchel were the highest heels I'd ever tried on, and yes, I was excited about them. What about the foot trainers? I had heard of them, but never seen or considered them. But yes, I was interested in seeing how they worked. Yes, I looked forward to being able to handle heels even higher than my new 6 inchers! Keep in mind that in addition to my already well-developed interest in high heels, I had just learned that higher heels meant relief from excruciating pain. As mentioned earlier, I hadn't yet come to fully realize the concept of being "locked in" relating to either the high heels or the crutches. I hope to be able to continue with my story shortly. Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted July 2, 2004 Share Posted July 2, 2004 Posted by Serenity on July 1, 2004, 23:20:59 "If you don't mind, this is as good a time as any to begin with the foot trainers," Karen said. After acknowledging my approval, she got down at my feet and removed my left shoe. She placed the foot trainer so that the leather strap crossed over the top of my foot just above the toes. A padded bar of sorts fit under the arch of my foot. Pulling the shafts at either side upward resulted in downward pressure on the lower part of my foot and silmultaneous upward pressure on my arch. She increased the pressure to the point where resistance was met. My ankle was simply bent to it's maximum. Here, she secured the shafts to my leg by means of leather thongs which allowed infinite adjustment. With my ankle bent to its maximum, my arch was thrust forward, thusly creating a most interesting curvature of leg/ankle/foot. It felt theraputic, and I must say I was rather enjoying the experience. Karen repeated the proceedure on my other foot, all the while explaining how the foot training would proceed, that it would never be pushed to the point of pain, and that after a few nights of sleeping with the trainers on, we should begin noticing the ankle to bend just a bit more and the forward flex in the arch to become a bit more pronounced. When that happened, she told me, I would be ready for 6-1/4 inch heels. The progression to 6-1/2 inch would take considerably more time and I would have to be more patient for that developement, possibly advancing to 6-3/8 inch heels during the interum. After 10 to 15 minutes in the trainers, she took them off, announcing that was enough time for the initial session. She helped me back on with my shoes, all the while lauding me with compliments about how well I was handling all of these unexpected developments. "Now," she said, "if you'll tell me where things are, I'll fix us a bite of supper, if you don't mind." "Of course," I responded, and then surprised myself by offering that she spend the nights here in our guest bedroom until Fred's return. Over the next two weeks, I developed a trust and friendship in Karen as I had never known, in spite of the fact that she always referred to me as "Mrs. Nelson" and repeatedly reminded me that she was here as a reprentative of the estate. That first night in the foot trainers proved to bring complete relief from any pain in my hip area as well and my legs and feet. I awoke the next morning feeling completely refreshed and looking forward to what the day would bring. Slowly, in bits a pieces over the next several days, Karen answered many of the questions which had been going through my mind. Regarding the Vangaurds' interest in me, she revealed that although clandestine, their watchfulness had been rather complete. A rather large dossier had been compiled on me over the years. Explaining "the spell" was difficult at best. The "Spell of the Rosewood Crutches" had been cast upon Mrs. Vanguard when she was in her late 20's. Coming from a family of means, there was no economic hardship involved, and she soon gave over to accepting her lot of being destined to a lifetime on crutches and the highest of heels. She proved herself perfectly capable as a wife and hostess, becoming involved in "behind the scenes" work in many charities and so forth. As the matriarch of the family, it befell on her to select the next recipient of the Rosewood Crutches. Upon completion of my upcoming "appretice period", I would fall heiress to the estate, inheriting among other things, the responsibility of determining who would next possess the Rosewood Crutches. "I have every confidence that by the time that decision is arrived at, that you will be entirely satisfied that you are bestowing a great blessing on the recipient," Karen had told me. Of course, my doctor had a completely different outlook on the situation. Upon my return visit to him, he was visually agitated at my disregard for his instrutctions to reject high heels if favor of something more conventional. When told that wearing high heels was the only means of affording relief to my pain, he scoffed the idea. His solutions were just as Karen had said they would be. He urged me to undergo psychoanalysis. I never went back, and a few years later got a new doctor. After just a week of spending nights in the foot trainers, Karen announced that I was ready for 6-1/4 inch heels. Slipping them onto my feet the next day she said that they looked lovely on me. Personally, I too, was pleased with them. This quest for higher and higher heels had become quiet an obscession with me, and I was by now so comfortable with being on crutches that I was giving it hardly any thought at all. TBC Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted July 4, 2004 Share Posted July 4, 2004 Posted by Serenity on July 4, 2004, 22:50:58 To the readers: It occurred to me I was remiss in skipping over my introduction to the 6-1/4 inch heels all too briefly. I now attempt to correct that omission. To begin, you should know that it was in the evening when Karen had informed me that I was ready for the new heel height. Story Cont. (12) It was the next morning when I was awakened by a soft knocking on the bedroom door. Entered Karen, who produced for my inspection the most incredible pair of high heels which I had ever hoped to see. Black-patent leather fairly sparkled. A 3/8 inch ankle-strap accented the beautifully crafted pumps. No other adornment detracted from the dramatic design of these eye-catching beauties. The throat was rounded in perfect accommodation to the shape of the short-pointed toebox. The soles were undyed, left to their natural leather color. And the heels, ohmygoodness those heels. The highest I'd ever seen, they tapered gracefully to their narrowest point about 2/3 of the way down. Here, they were about 3/8" wide and tapered back out to a width of just under 1/2" at the bottom. (Perhaps they could be described as a hybrid between stiletto and cuban heels, stretched to the most unimaginable heights.) These slighltly "wider" heels gave the shoes an appearance of durability, like they would provide support and protection for the feet while standing up to demands of daily use, and not easily sink into softer surfaces, such as a lawn. Immediately behind the toebox, the shafts of the shoes went to FULL VERTICAL rise for the first 2 inches before tapering off to provide as for my heels to rest in the heelcups of the shoes. Perhaps I should also mention that the horizontal space between the front of the heel and the shoe-shank itself was not more than 1/2 to 3/4 of an inch! I couldn't wait to try them on. "Oh, Fred will just LOVE them!" I gasped, as for the past few days we'd been talking and planning for his impending arrival from Canada. Karen giggled as she placed the shoes within my reach and was soon helping me remove the foot trainers. I, of course, picked up the shoes to admire and get the feel of them as she fetched a garter belt and nylon stockings. The new leather smelled so good. Once the stockings were on, I swung my feet over the edge of the bed, where Karen slipped the "Icebreakers" onto my anxiously awaiting feet. Before doing so, she unhurriedly once again displayed each for my visual inspection before placing it on my foot. First, the left shoe she competently slipped over my waiting foot. What did I feel? Well, firstly the fit was perfect, snug, but no tight spots anywhere. Even in my sitting position, I could feel some pressure from the pronounced arch of the shoe, more than I'd ever felt in any other pair of heels, and although the feeling was unfamiliar to me at the time, I knew almost immediately that I was going to like it. As she wrapped the narrow ankle-strap into place and buckled it shut I knew I was in for a new high heel experience. Karen repeated the process with the right shoe, evoking the pleasurable reactions to repeat themselves. "You take it from here, Mrs. Nelson," she encouraged. I sat on the bed for several minutes, simply allowing myself the pleasure of "feeling" the shoes. My heels were cast upwards as high as they could possibly go; my ankles as far forward; my arches feeling the forward trust from the shanks, which caused my insteps to be even more exaggerated in their "beyond vertical" attitude. I hoped against hope that I'd be able to keep my knees straight once I stood up. Bending down to retrieve my crutches from their place just under my edge of the bed, I placed them before me and grasped the shafts to help pull myself into a standing position. I was flooded with relief with the realization that Karen's assessment that I was ready for the 6-1/4" heels had been accurate. I stood straight and tall, my knees looking like they should. All of the feelings experienced as the shoes were first placed on my feet were intensified. I had never felt anything so good on my feet before, as if this was the first time ever that I'd experienced wearing that "just exactly right" pair of shoes. "Oh, Karen. I just love them," I breathed. The "feeling" most obvious at that time was the pressure on the arches of my feet being exerted by those notoriously steep shanks, which resulted in such pronounced arch support. No flat feet for this high-heels gal! Leaning forward, I swung out on my crutches and was delighted to discover that walking in these unbelievingly high heels to be no more difficult than the 6" heels to which I'd become accustomed. Karen smiled approvingly and voiced encouragement as she watched me pace about the room. "You look so hot," she laughed. "Somethings gonna burn!" TBC Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted July 5, 2004 Share Posted July 5, 2004 Story Cont. (13) Posted by Serenity on July 5, 2004, 22:07:33 Karen's infectious laugh got me to laughing, too. Whatever had made her come up with that! Here I was, a 42 year-old housewife, and even though I'd made it a lifetime practice to keep up my appearance, the concept of being "hot" was simply outside my frame of reference. She excused herself to get breakfast ready for us while I set about preparing myself for the day. As we talked over breakfast, occasionally giggling over the "heat" in the kitchen, Karen brought up the point that I'd been a virtual recluse in my own home since Fred had departed for Canada. She reminded me that since there were only a few days left until Fred's return, I should start getting out and about. That it would be good for me made sense. If I should have any problems in the public, it would be better to address them before Fred's arrival, rather than having to deal with something unpleasant just as he stepped off the plane. Up to this point, any phonecalls from my circle of friends had been handled by simply telling them that I was sick at home with the flu and would not be available for any social engagements until after Fred's return. By now, it had become apparent that my situation was looking to be permanent, and that I had to give my friends, acquaintances, and social circle some information. After discussing it with Karen, it was decided to tell them that I had aggravated an old injury (unnoticed spinal damage in my back from the car wreck which had put me on crutches all those years ago) resulting in palsy in my legs. When asked if it was permanent, my standard answer was that only time would tell. Once our round table discussion over the breakfast table ended, we separated to repair ourselves for our morning outing. As it was in the autumn of the year, it was cool outside. To go with the new "Icebreakers", I chose a grey wool skirt, slightly below knee length, a white blouse with standup collar, a grey pullover sweater and cardigan jacket. For my legs, gartered suntan nylon stockings. Silver toned earrings, necklace and bracelet completed the ensemble. Of course, it was my habit to attend to my hair and makeup every morning, and today was no exception. As I made my way to the living room to wait for Karen, it struck me how much I was enjoying the new shoes. As mentioned earlier, they fit perfectly. Initially, the prominent thing I'd noticed about the "feel" of the shoes had been the extreme arch support. Alone and having the leisure to pace around I took the opportunity to more fully assess them. I was impressed by the total comfort of the toe box. My toes and the balls of my feet were cradled in such manner to feel gentle support, yet no pressure points. The soles of the shoes were gently curved upwards in all directions from the center. This resulted in the center of the ball of my foot resting at the bottom of a gently arch'd sole. Because of this, with each step, my weight was evenly distributed over the entire bottom are of that portion of my foot. The sole was also sufficiently padded to take all "shock" out of the walking experience. Enough room was allowed that I could flex my toes, although not much. Also, because of the notoriously steep shank, all of my weight forced the foot straight down. There was no tendancy for my foot to slip forward in the shoe and crowd the toes, another source of "toe burn" experienced in other high heels. The ankle-strap wrapped my ankle in such manner as to provide comforting stability in addition to being a rather attractive adornment. I decided the shoes were perfect. Karen and I were planning on doing a lot of things on this day. I pondered which part of me would wear out first. Would it be my arms from the demands of manipulating the crutches? The balls of my feet as the pressure from a long day on them took its toll? My ankles, unaccustomed as they were to the extreme heel height? Silently, I decided it would probably be the ankles and lower legs to give out first, just as Karen walked into the room voicing her apology for being late and urging that we be off. TBC Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted July 6, 2004 Share Posted July 6, 2004 Story Cont. (14) Although attractive and well dressed by any standards, Karen had gone one better for our outing today. Her light brown wool skirt ended right at knee level. It hugged her, emphasizing her shapely slender legs. A wide dark brown belt emphasized her slender waistline, and her white stand-up-collar blouse clung to every curve of her upper body. A wool jacket matched the skirt. Her jewelry was gold-toned, and her hair pulled into a neat French Roll. Everything was sophistication plus. I may have mentioned that her everyday footwear so far had consisted of 5 inch stiletto heels. Today's shoes were also a bit of a surprise. She had chosen a pair of deep rich chocolate-brown leather pumps. They featured gold accents at the tip of their semi-pointed toes and at the top edge of their lofty 5-1/2 inch heels. Suntan nylons, of course. We walked to the door, where she stopped and turned to face me before opening it. "Mrs. Nelson," she said in her unhurried way. She paused just long enough to know that she had my full attention. "There's something that I must tell you, and you must hear what I have to say." Needles to say, she certainly did have my full attention. "It's about your crutches. It is imperative that you keep them in your personal possession at all times. Never can you allow anyone to take them from you, even for a few minutes. If anyone should want to 'try' them, you are not to allow it. Am I understood?" "It sounds as if you mean not only for today, but from here on out," I responded. "Yes, that is correct. But I did not mean to alarm you. You should also know that should anyone touch them or brush against them while they're in your possession, it's no harm done. But you must never yield possession to another." She then started asking if the new shoes seemed to fit properly and lavished me with praise on my appearance and how well I was doing with the new extreme heels. "We'll have you in 6-1/2 inch in no time at all," she brightly said, pulling the door open for our grand exit. "We'll take your car today, if you don't mind," she said, as she dangled the keys. "We need to know that you can still drive!" When I had the driver's door open, I stood between it and the car, my shoulders parallel to the direction the car was facing. Leaning the crutches to the side of the car, I lowered my buttocks into the seat, then reached up to retrieve the cructhes. Lifting my feet from the ground, I pivoted, swinging both legs around inside. At the same time I brought in the crutches, placing them to my right. Crutch-tips on the floor, saddles suspended over the top of the back of the carseat. I will now digress from the story in order to discuss how the palsy had affected the motor functions in my lower extremities. As noted earlier, when standing, my feet and legs were able to move, but ONLY in unison with one another. So my two legs functioned as one, leaving me mobility impaired much the same as a one-legged person would be. Of course, I did have the advantage of having two feet to carry the load. But when I was in a sitting or reclining position, a different motor pattern developed. Although my movement was not "normal", I did have some independant use of my feet and legs. For instance, when seated, if I wanted to cross my legs, it was possible for me to do so. Also, properly crossing my lower legs at the ankles was easily accomplished. And, in driving a car, it was possible for my right foot to take care of the accelerator and brake pedals without interference from the left. I know this sounds implausible. I've been told as much and more by the medical community over the years. Hence their diagnosis of psychosomatic causes. But, that's the way it works. Now back to the story. Of course I was apprehensive about my ability to drive the car. Firstly because of not being sure if my feet would work independantly of one another. Secondly because of the extreme height of my heels. The heels were so very high, and the recent regimen in foot trainers had started a noticable reduction in flexiblity of my ankles. They were being trained to accommodate high heels, not to become flexible for athletic endeavors. However, I was greatly relieved to discover that I was still able to handle the driving with enough finesse to keep the big Lincoln on steady course. No lurching at stop signs. Our first stop for the day was the City Zoo. We'd chosen it because it afforded the opportunity for all of the outdoor walking that we might care to do. And walk we did. Even though Karen handled herself extremely well in her 5-1/2" heels, the extra half-inch in height did serve to shorten her stride. I was surprised to find that I could easily out-walk her. For you see, with me relying on crutches for mobility, I was taking fewer strides than her, but much longer ones. One of the curiosities of crutch walking (when one employs the "swing-through" gait, as do I) is that even with the most extreme heels, ones gate is shortened hardly at all, whereas with people who walk in the normal fashion, for most with heels over 5 inches, even small increments in height serve to shorten the stride in geometric proportion. So whereas her ability to walk was hampered to some degree by her 5-1/2 inch heels, mine was nearly as good in the 6-1/4's as it would have been in heels much lower. At these heights, I was achieving an advandage! :-) But, it wasn't long before my ankles and lower legs began complaining of the unaccustomed strain. After less than an hour in the park, we returned to the car, and it was only after sliding in behind the wheel that I began to notice fatigue in my arms and shoulders to accompany the malady in my lower legs. Although beginning to tire a bit, my feet suffered no ill effects whatsoever. Karen shot an approving glance my way. "You managed perfectly well, Mrs. Nelson," she offered. "You certainly outwalked me today." I laughed, "But you yielded your advantage by wearing those extra-high heels! Did you do that just to make me feel good?" "I knew that you'd appreciate these shoes," she demurred, a huge smile on her face. "Let's get some lunch." TBC Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted July 7, 2004 Share Posted July 7, 2004 We decided on one of the more posh restaurants inside the city, a place to which neither of us had been before. Upon arrival, we were ushered to our table by a stiffly formal, yet attractive young and well-dressed hostess. As our table was not near a wall, I started to place my crutches under our table in order that they would not be in the way. The young hostess leaned forward, placing her hand on one of them in such manner as to pull it away from me, as she said, with the biggest smile on her face as she could muster, "I'll help with these." "No help is necessary," I replied. My own smile matching her own. Her grip on my crutches remained firm. "It's policy not to have loose things lying about. It's for safety, you know." My eyes locked onto hers. "These are my crutches," I firmly stated. "They are not 'loose things'. They are my private and very personal property, and I will NOT be left here without them. It is for MY safety that they will remain here with me, and they certainly do NOT pose any hazard to anyone else in this place." Her smile disappeared along with her composure. Fortunately, she apologized for her upsetting behavior, assuring me that it was perfectly acceptable to keep the crutches in my possession. A woman at the next table, a few years older than myself, brightly dressed and heavily jeweled, turned to give me the "thumbs up". I nodded an acknowledgment, to which she silently mouthed, "Way to go!" Karen also nodded her head approvingly, saying, "Very well handled, Mrs. Nelson." In no time at all, the head waiter was at our table, apologizing profusely for the "misunderstanding". He told us that our entrees would be gratis and to feel free to order anything we wanted from the menu. Karen and I looked at each other, as if deciding whether all of this apology was genuine or not. With a barely perceptable tilt of her head, Karen seemed to give me the "okay" sign. From that point on, we both relaxed, and basked in the luxury of having the utmost attention of the staff through a most delicious lunch. We were enjoying ourselves, relaxing, visiting, laughing. As we pondered what to have for dessert, the older woman at the next table signaled the waiter. After briefly disappearing for a moment, he appoached her table, dutifully carrying a pair of metal forearm crutches, which he presented to her. Accepting them from him, she said in a loud, clear voice. "Thank you Clarence. I do believe that next time I'm here, I'll keep them at the table with me." "Very well, Mrs. Majors". He bowed stiffly at his waist. She awkwardly rose from her seat to a standing postion, then stood for a brief moment to wait for the soft "click" of the knee-locks on her leg-braces falling closed. Turning, she approached our table. "I must say that you ladies both look so nice in your high heels. Especially you, dear," she said turning towards me. "I never thought I'd see the day when one of 'us' would wear such attractive footwear, and you do wear it so gracefully." I guessed her to be a polio victim. The burnished steel braces running the length of her legs were attached to a shiny pair of black-patent Mary-Jane flats. "Why, that's so very kind of you," I demurred. "Thank you." "For years I've wanted to wear high heels," she continued. "But my orhopaedist has insisted that it's not practical." Karen surprised me by instantly pulling a business card from her purse,offering it to the lady, saying so as she did, "Perhaps we can be of help. Not every podiatrist or othopaedist always knows what's best." She smiled encouragingly at the woman. "Why, thank you, dear. My name is Valorie Majors, and I did so enjoy seeing the two of you coming in here for lunch today." She bent close so only I could hear her as she said, "And what a treat to see that snotty little hostess get her comeuppance! She'll keep her grimy little hands off of my crutches, after today!" She then did something I hadn't seen for a while. She slipped the business card over the neckline of her dress, through all of the necklaces, and tucked it carefully into her bra! The lady had class. "Perhaps another time," she said in departing. I turned from watching her laborous gate as Valorie struggled with the crutches and her paralyzed legs just in time to catch the intensity of Karen's own gaze as she watched, too. When Mrs. Majors disappeared from our view, Karen turned to me and said, "She can do it. A definite candidate to become a High Heeling Honey." We raised our wineglasses in salute. After a sinful dessert, I deposited a generous tip on the table, then pulled my crutches from their resting place and we arose to depart. TBC Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted July 9, 2004 Share Posted July 9, 2004 "OOh, that was fun," Karen uttered as each of us slid into our seats in the Lincoln. I laughed. "High Heeled Honeys! Where in the world did that come from? Karen, I'm beginning to think that you have some sort of an interest in high heels." She gave me one of those sideways glances, one eyebrow raised just so, like, where have you been? "Where to?" I asked. She counted off on her fingers. "We've done the zoo, had lunch. How about shopping? After all, we are right down town, right where it's at." We were soon in one of the nicer department stores, leisurely strolling, looking, comparing. I think that we both felt a bit superior as we passed by the woman's shoe department. They had not one style which even came close to achieving the heel height of Karen's elegant 5-1/2" pumps. We traipsed all over the store. Karen was concerned that we should try going both up and down the escalators, just to be sure that I could handle them. Undaunted by the challenge because of my college year of experience with such things, off we went. Just as I thought, entry and exit from the escalator was simply a matter of timing and motion. Get the timing down right, swing onto it at the right speed, and be ready to adjust balance. It worked, although I did "wobble" a bit on the first couple of trys at getting on. We did a few more repetitions at various times in the afternoon, after which I was gliding on and off the escalators as smoothly as anything. However, the backs of my lower legs and my ankles were beginning to complain, just as they had during our morning walk in the zoo. One the drive back home, I asked Karen if she had meant what she'd said about Mrs. Majors after our lunch. Was she really a candidate for high heels? "Without knowing more about her, I don't know," she replied. "Two things. First, her ankles must be flexible enough to accommodate seriously high heels, similar to what you're wearing. Second, she has to want to do it bad enough to come up with a couple thousand to have new braces and shoes made. That alone would stop a lot of people." "From the looks of the hardware that was dripping off of her, I'd guess that a couple thousand dollars wouldn't be much of a problem." I paused. "You seem to know a lot about this, Karen." Her head tilted as her eyes met my glance. "If I were to guess, I continued, I'd guess that you have experience with heels and crutches, yourself. After all, you've anticipated and been there for every need that's come up for me. You seem to have an uncommon sense about it." After some pause, she said, "You might be right..." "I knew it!" I interrupted. "Oh Karen, I just had the craziest idea. Why don't we get your crutches and the two of us could go out somewhere tomorrow, both of us on them! Do you have heels like these that you could wear, too?" Karen shook her head, feigning disbelief at what I'd just said. "You are really something, Mrs. Nelson." And after thoughtful pause, she added, "There's no reason for you not to know. Yes, I am experienced with the high heels and crutches, and yes, I do have heels as high as yours. If it's something you really want, then yes, by all means, let's do it." A half hour later she had directed me to a set of office buildings on the outside edge of the city. She told me exactly where to park, then told me that I would have to wait in the car for her. Just before she got out, she asked, "Do you want me in braces, or without? The question caught me completely off guard, but remembering our encounter with Mrs. Majors at lunch, I thought that seeing the attractive Karen in leg braces might be interesting. "Leg braces and high heels both?" I asked. "You should know better than to have to ask that," she grinned at me. "By all means, bring them along." She walked briskly around a corner, and it became apparent that she'd had me park where I could not see which building she was going to enter. It looked like she was not yet ready for me to know everything. TBC Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted July 10, 2004 Share Posted July 10, 2004 It was only a few minutes before Karen returned. She had a long canvas carrier that looked like it could have skis or any such long and slender objects inside. The carrier was filled out as though a lot was stuffed into it. Of course my curiosity was giving me fits as to what, but I decided then and there that I would not ask about it until we got back home. During the drive, Karen revealed a bit more of herself to me. She told me that she'd been Mrs. Vanguard's Personal Secretary for almost fifteen years before the old lady had so recently died. "She was a great lady of great character, and I do miss her so," she said. "Of course, in order to fully comprehend the obstacles of daily life which a disabled person faces, it is necessary to walk a mile in her shoes, so to speak. Therefore, I did undergo considerable training. I used the foot trainers much the same as you're using them every night right now. I used crutches extensively, simulating a variety of mobility impairments that might cause someone to use them. And yes, all manner of high heels. "First I simulated the same motor dysfuntion that you have, as Mrs. Vanguard was affected likewise. In order to do this, I simply tied my legs together by wrapping them with tape. This technique was very effective in simulating your condition. And, by wearing an ankle-length skirt, I could even go out in the public and no one would have the slightest hint as to why crutches were necessary. Although, it did ruin a perfectly good pair of nylons ever time I removed the tape," she grinned. "Go on," I urged, totally absorbed in what she was telling me. "Well, as you know, Mrs. Vanguard was of an extremely charitable nature. As it were, the era in which she grew up was a time when polio afflicted quite a few of her contemporaries. You will also recall that an effective polio vaccine came on the scene about the time that you and I were just entering our teens. So there are still polio victims in our age group, too, but not so many as in the generation previous. Of course, the generations to follow have barely been touched by it in the modern world. "At any rate, Mrs. Vanguard wished to do what she could to provide the means to a better quality of life to several of her personal friends who were so afflicted. In order to better understand their situation, she had leg-braces made for herself and privately used them so she would know what it's like. Since she was totally 'locked into' high heels, it was necessary to design leg-braces to accomodate the heels, and some modification of the shoes was also required. But, the task proved do-able. Of course, this all happened long before I came into her employment, but the training was all still part and parcel for me. As you just witnessed today, there are still a few polio victims amongst us who might appreciate a bit of positive attention." "Karen, I find this simply fascinating," I breathed. "By tying up one leg under a bulky skirt, I effectively became an amputee. At other times, having an arm tied to my torso under my clothes created yet another disability that I learned to cope with. For you see, people react to you in a much different way if they perceive that your disability is permanent, rather than temporary. An example would be seeing a woman who has only one arm, as opposed to seeing her with an injured arm in a sling. It conjures up a different reaction. "And yes, she also had me learn what it's like to be in a wheelchair, with the most outrageous of high heels, of course." She smiled, "Again, people react in a different way. The sum total of it all is that although I am quite able-bodied, I do have extensive experience in being practiced at handling various disabilities, and yes, in noticing peoples' reactions to each." She paused before continuing. "For you see, it was Mrs. Vanguard's contention that other peoples' reactions to the disabled could be as debilitating as the actual disability, itself. Since she understood this phenomenon from her own personal experience, she required that anyone close to her be trained to understand it, too. It's something that a good many researchers and practitioners do not fully understand, which in turn, limits their effectiveness. "Throughout her life, Mrs. Vanguard offered one-on-one help to a good many disabled people. Of course, as her personal secretary, a goodly amount of the work involved fell on me. It has been most rewarding, to be sure." A lot was going through my mind as we rolled up to the house. I barely remembered getting out of the car, which was good, as it indicated that it was becoming routine. Karen wrestled her canvas carrier from the back seat and lugged it inside. Before we separated to freshen up for dinner, she told me that she would return in leg braces and on crutches, and asked if we might share the duties of preparing our meal and cleaning up afterwards. I nodded in agreement, and we set off to our respective rooms. I couldn't help but wonder what the elegant and sophisticated Karen would look like with her legs in braces. Would her shoes have heels as high as my own? Would she be in a long skirt? Pants? A myriad of questions kept coming, begging for answers. TBC Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted July 12, 2004 Share Posted July 12, 2004 Once in my room, I slipped out of my grey skirt and the pullover sweater. A nicely tailored pair of black wool slacks would go well with my white blouse and the new "Icebreakers". Even though my ankles and the backs of my lower legs seemed to tire after being on my feet for a while, occasional rest periods seemed to afford enough relief that the problem was of no real concern. More prevalent on my mind at the time was my great relief in discovering that I found these new shoes to be more comfortable to my feet, themselves, than possibly any other pair of shoes I'd ever had. I slipped the Icebreakers back onto my feet, buckled the ankle-strap, rose to my feet and swung between my crutches to the kitchen. Once there, I started putting together something for a light dinner. I soon found out that a bit of planning was involved in running a kitchen while on crutches. Walking on them is one thing, but bending under counters to retrieve kitchen items is quite another. As is carrying things while ones hands are busy manipulating the crutches. This experience was fairly new to me, since when I was on crutches back in my college days, I hardly ever set foot in a kitchen. My meals were eaten in the college cafeteria back then. But, I was managing, and feeling quite good about being able to figure out how to get things done. I had our dinner almost prepared when Karen made her entrance. She paused at the entrance to the kitchen. A simple sleeveless white blouse fit tightly around her lower torso. A straight brown wool skirt, slightly longer than what she'd worn during the day, hugged her legs. The underlying leg-braces caused protrusions which were clearly visible. Her skirt fell to about three inches below her knees, thereby covering the hinges at the knee-joint. Just below the hemline, only the bottoms of natural-leather colored cuffs which wrapped her legs were visible. These cuffs secured her lower legs firmly to the braces. Just above her ankles, at the slenderest part of the legs, a similar colored strap, about three-quarters of an inch wide, again bound her to the braces. The steel shafts of the braces were clearly visible from her hemline down to the floor. Looking at her from the front, as I was, I could see that the burnished shafts, rather than being perfectly straight, followed the contour of her legs and ankles. Her shoes were of the same dark, rich chocolate brown as she had worn during the day. But these were decidedly different. The toebox was short and rounded. The throat was rounded, too, and I could see double ankle-straps encircling her ankles just below where the brace-straps similiarly wrapped them. The soles of her shoes looked thicker than her others, a mini-platform? Her crutches were different than mine, although they did appear to be made out of the same type of rosewood. Hers were forearm crutches, whereas mine were underarm. Metal cuffs with an opening gap in the front of them were hinged at the top of the crutch-shafts at a level just below her elbows, securing the crutches to her forearms. The openings in the cuffs were just wide enough to allow her to slide her arms out. "Karen, you are absolutely breath-taking! I didn't hear you coming. Turn around and let me look at you!" She smiled. "You were making plenty of noise of your own in here. It was easy to sneak up on you," she teased. She slowly turned around for my inspection by a series of tiny little crutch-steps. From the profile, I could see that her shoes indeed had platform soles, perhaps a half-inch thick. The heels had to be at least seven inches! Those heels were shaped similarly to the ones on my own Icebreakers, being some thicker than normal stiletto heels. With heels so outrageously tall, her ankles were thrust up and forward to their maximum, as were mine in my six-and-a-quarter-inch Icebreakers. The arches of her foot were thrust beautifully forward, and yes, they were past vertical. Because her ankles were thrust forward to the extreme and her instep was virtually vertical, the braces were designed to follow down her legline, past the ankles, and were attached to the shoes right at the rear edges of those sturdy-looking platforms. There were no flex-joints at the ankles, I noticed. As she continued turning, I got full view of her stately seven-inch heels from the rear. Impossibley tall for anyone attempting to walk in them without crutches, but with crutches Karen appeared as comfortable in them as was I in my own six-and-a-quarter inch single-sole Icebreakers. Her pirouette completed, she again paused "Breath-taking." I whispered it this time. "Why, thank you, Mrs. Nelson!" she enthused. "May I help you with dinner?" "It's all ready," I responded. You can help me get things on the table, that's all." Karen moved things down to the end of the counter-top. From there, she placed herself between the counter-top and the table, where she was able to grasp things from the counter with her right hand, pass them to her left, and then on to the table. She was able to lean on the tops of her crutches for balance through all of this by means of the cuffs which secured her forearms to them. When we'd finished eating, she said, "Now, Karen, I have a little surprise for you. TBC Love, Serenitiy Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted July 19, 2004 Share Posted July 19, 2004 Brief correction: The last line of installment (18) should have read: "Now, Mrs. Nelson, I have a little surprise for you." Story Cont. (19) We tidied up the kitchen as quickly as we could with the both of us on crutches. Of course I was wondering about the surprise, but Karen said no more about it until we finished up, when she then said, "Would you like to go to my room for the surprise, or have me bring it to you?" "I'll follow you," I eagerly responded. When we got to her room, she had me sit down. Retrieving a package, she carried it to where I sat in a straight-backed chair. By now I had guessed that it was another pair of shoes, but of course was curious as to what they'd be like. She pulled out a natural leather colored oxford style with front laces for my inspection. The toebox was short and rounded, similar to what we used to call "babydoll" toes. It had a platform sole, perhaps a quarter-inch in thickness, and the heel height was six-and-one-half inches, Karen explained as she was displaying the shoe for my inspection. She pointed out that the wedge heel was a bit wider than normal in order to give the heel-base a bit more surface area. The purpose being to keep me from "sinking" when walking on softer surfaces, such as a lawn or a dirt path. "I know you'll soon be wanting to be back in your flowerbeds, and these shoes were designed to be your 'Gardeners'," she said. "Oh, Karen, how thoughtful!" I enthused. "Would you like me to help you try them on?" she asked. Recognizing that the leg-braces would make it difficult for her, I volunteered to take care of it myself. She passed over the matching shoe. I eagerly unbuckled the Icebreakers' ankle-straps and removed them from my feet. The Gardeners had a sturdy appearance and indeed, the slightly widened wedge heel did look like it would provide enough surface to keep my feet from sinking in soil that was reasonably compact. I put them on and set about tightening the laces. Standing in them felt much the same as in my Icebreakers. As Karen had explained, the slightly taller heel was offset by the moderate platform, giving them the same arch as a normal six and one-quarter inch heel. I paced about the room, coming more to appreciate their usefulness for their intended purpose. I wouldn't have to mar any of my beautiful stilettos while tending to my flowerbeds. I was coming to full appreciation for Karen's foresightedness in having these utiltarian shoes created for me. The leather was a bit heavier than in my other shoes. The heavier leather, tightly laced in front as they were, served to offer more support than an opened shoe ever could. I felt like I could walk for miles in them. I stopped my pacing to tell her how much I appreciated her thoughtfulness. She smiled in acknowledgment and held out a second pair of shoes to me. She held one in each hand, her forarms leaning easily on the tops of her crutches. In my excitement over the Gardeners I hadn't even realized that Karen was busy retrieving a second pair of shoes from her bag. "These are for Mr. Nelson's homecoming," she announced. I accepted the shoes from her and started inspecting them. As I looked them over, she explained their features. The "Homecomers" were of the same gleaming black-patent leather as were the Icebreakers. The toe and throat were nearly identical, as well, with the toe being short-pointed and the throat again being rounded so as to fit my foot in the most comfortable manner. The heels, she explained were a bit higher, too. Although they were not at my expected maximum height of six and one-half inches, they were only slightly less at six and three-eights. "We're sort of splitting hairs, here," she allowed, "but we don't want to place you in heels higher than what you're ready to handle. I think you'll like these." Whereas the Icebreakers had a single ankle-strap of three-eighths inch thickness, the Homecomers had double ankle-straps, each of them being about a quarter-inch. The heels were considerably narrower than the Icebreaker's, too. They were shaped more like a conventional stiletto heel, tapering to not much more than a quarter inch width at their narrowest, and flaring only slightly wider at the tip. Again, the heels were almost parallel to the nearly vertical shanks of the shoes, and weren't much more than a half inch from touching them. I thought these were the most beautiful shoes I'd ever seen. "Oh, Karen, they are beautiful," I whispered, and took no time to get myself sat down to get the Gardeners off and the Homecomers on. They fit perfectly. I was expecting perhaps even more arch support and forward thrust to my ankles. Karen explained that the jump into the six-and-a-quarter inch heels had been significant because they were my first shoes subsequent to foot training. But now that I had adjusted to the extreme arch support provided by the Icebreakers and had done further foot training, the move up to the Homecomers was not so dramatic as the change to the Icebreakers had been. "You are just a natural for high heels, Mrs. Nelson," she smiled. I rose to my feet to get the feel of the shoes. They felt so good, very similar to what the Icebreakers had felt like the first time I'd put them on, but by now I'd become accustomed to the supportive fit of the extreme arches. Although aware of the slightly higher heels, I was surprised at how well my ankles seemed to accomodate them. Swinging out to take my first steps in them only served to confirm how well-suited these shoes were to me, and me to them. "Karen," I said. "I love these shoes! Fred is going to love them, and love me in them, as well." "You picked your man well," she laughingly responded. "Tomorrow we go for a walk to get everything broken in, and the day after that you will meet Mr. Nelson at the airport." As I had two extra pairs of shoes in her room, Karen carried one pair, and I the other to my bedroom. I was excited with anticipation for seeing my husband return the day after tomorrow. TBC Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted August 11, 2004 Share Posted August 11, 2004 I changed clothes and freshened up for dinner. Karen returned to the kitchen only minutes behind me. She had left the braces and crutches behind and was now dressed in a smart pair of black wool trousers, complimented by black calfskin 5" pumps. Her unadorned shoes featured classic stiletto heels and rather pronounced pointed toes. I, too, had chosen black wool trousers and had changed into my Icebreaker heels, wanting to give the Homecomers a bit of a rest after having been in them all day. Karen did most of the dinner preparation, and of course we visited a lot as she busied herself with the meal. She had already prepared a list with contact information for my reference. Also included on the list was the number to call when I needed more shoes. She apologized for providing me with black shoes only, other than the Gardeners, but was quick to point out that I could call and specify any color or style I wanted. She commented even though all of the shoes which she had ordered for me featured either ankle-straps or were lace-ups, I should feel free to try regular pumps, sandals and slides without the extra straps if I wished. She said that the shoemaker could make any style I wanted and was scheduled to do a pair of shoes for me every week until such time as I felt I had enough. We laughted about that, saying that it would take me almost a whole year to acquire only 50 pairs! Once dinner was eaten and the kitchen cleaned up, Karen retired to her room after reminding me that this was her last night here. I gave her a hug as she started for her room. "If you think of anything you need, or any questions you might have, please let me know," she said. I chose a book to read before retiring early. But once alone, I began to worry about Fred. The past two weeks had held so much for me that there was hardly a chance to think of him. But now it came. What would he think of the changes? After all, I'd been completely able-bodied when he left. And now it was looking like I might be destined to spending the rest of my life on crutches. Something like that could be a lot for a spouse to handle. I thought back to those days in college when we dated. Although we didn't really talk about it, somehow I knew that my being on crutches was part of what attracted Fred to me. But it was different back then. In college, I was convalescing from an injury with expectation of full recovery. Now the odds seemed to indicate that I would never again walk without crutches. What would Fred think of all of this? It was the thought that he pursued me while I was on crutches that gave me enough comfort that I was finally able to drift off to sleep. The book fell to the side. I hadn't gotten past the first page. In the morning, Karen was in the kitchen fixing breakfast for the both of us when I came in. We ate in relative silence, which reminded me of how easily we'd had so many conversations over the past two weeks. I knew I'd miss her. I helped her clean up the kitchen. She packed her things out to her car, making several trips. When it was time to go, we hugged. She told me that I would do just fine, and reminded me to call her whenever I needed anything. I walked her to her car, and watched as she drove out of sight. The weather was nasty again, and I hurried back to the house, once again worrying about Fred and what he'd think of me. The day was a blur. I fussed with my hair and makeup. I must have changed clothes a dozen times. Finally, I decided on wearing a white blouse with long sleeves, a straight knee-length grey skirt, and off-black nylon stockings to compliment the Homecomers. A long grey wool coat came almost to my ankles. I drove to the airport more than an hour early. I parked and walked into the terminal, where I bought a magazine. I found a seat and pretended an interest in the magazine. Finally, Fred's flight was announced. I rose to my feet and made my way to where the passengers would meet those who were waiting for them. I stood back a bit, so that I'd be only a face in the crowd to him as he approached. What would I tell him? What would he say? They came. People were greeting and hugging one another. Then Fred came out of the crowd, straight towards me. In an instant, his arms were around me, picking me up and swinging me in a circle, crutches and all! "My God, Serenity! You're even more beautiful than I remembered." He was smiling. "I hope you got lots of rest, because I'm going to keep you awake for a while tonight." I laughed, partly because of his promise of two weeks ago to keep me up nights, partly in relief that he seemed to accept the new me with no apprehension at all. My heart swelled with love for this wonderful man. We walked to the baggage claim, where we waited for his luggage to appear. He stood with his arm around my waist. We didn't talk, except when he leaned his head toward mine to say, "It's good to be home." His luggage recovered, we walked to the car. Once inside, he drew me to him, giving me a kiss that had the promise of more to come. "The keys," he said. "Give me the damned keys so we can go home." "I don't care where we go, so long as you take me with you," I said, dangling them in front of him. THE END Love, Serenity AFTERWARD to follow Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted August 15, 2004 Share Posted August 15, 2004 I sat with my body pressed next to Freds. His right arm wrapped around my shoulders as he maneuvered the car out into the traffic with his left. It felt like our college days, with the two of us so close on one side of the car, and once again to have crutches leaned against the seat on the passenger side. Still, he'd said nothing about my crutches or about my new ultra-tall heels. With some apprehension, I finally asked, "Fred, did you not notice anything different?" After some pause, he finally said something about my new shoes. I smiled at this confirmation of my belief that he had in fact noticed them. Admittedly, I was baffled that he spoke of the shoes rather than of the crutches, though. "You like them?" I asked. His arm gave me a reassuring hug. "Serenity, you know that I've always liked you in heels. And yes, the higher the better. These have to be the most spectacular shoes I've ever seen on anyone, and yes, they look terrific on you. But Baby, you've really outdone yourself." I could tell that he was searching for words, trying to find a way to express himself. "I do believe that this is the first time I've ever seen a woman in heels so tall that she has to use crutches in order to walk. But the effect is beautiful, Serenity. I appreciate that you've done it." I brought my hands to my face, shocked to discover that he believed that the crutches were merely an accessory necessitated by the extreme heel height. "Fred, I'm afraid that I have to tell you there's a little more to it than that." And so I went on to tell him of how I went to the Estate Sale. How something had compelled me to climb the stairway to the second floor, to find the second set of stairs to the third floor, to find and open the door to the storage room which was empty, save for the one pair of crutches leaning innocently against the wall. How the sight of those crutches had brought back so many good memories of the year at college where he had met and pursued me. How surprised I'd been to discover that the crutches had already been consigned to me, and that yes, I did want to try them out and then to take them home. How taken aback I was when the clerk at the Estate Sale seemed to know who I was. I told him of how I'd hurt my back, gone to the doctor, who was baffled that a little thing like a pinched nerve would cause this particular kind of palsy. And that after more testing and no improvement in my condition, it was now looking like my dependance on crutches may be permanent. And that the ultra-high heels seemed to be part-and-parcel of the same package, as without them the pain was unrelenting. With them, I was totally pain free. It was a lot to lay out as we continued toward home. Fred remained speechless as he considered all that he'd been told. More to follow, Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted August 15, 2004 Share Posted August 15, 2004 I then went on to tell him about Karen. How baffled I was initially when she seemed to know who I was, and then later when she showed up at our house. How competent she appeared to be. And lastly, I told him the things that Karen had revealed to me about the Vanguard Estate and how they had me under surveilance for so many years. Fred listened to all of it in silence. He then asked questions about my condition. His first concern was to find out if I was in pain or suffering any sort of discomfort. Once I had laid those concerns to rest, he asked about what my feelings were toward what had happened. Was I unhappy about the prospect of spending the rest of my life on crutches? What about being locked into such extremely high heels? It took some time, but I was able to convey that my only trepidation had been the fear that Fred would somehow be disappointed. As for myself, I was acquiescent about the situation. Because of my college experience on crutches, I knew there would be disadvantages. But also because of that experience, I knew that I could handle whatever came my way. And, because of the many good memories from that year, I knew that being on crutches would by no means mark the end of a happy and fulfilling life. So I assured him that in the end, I was perfectly content to spend the rest of my life on crutches and in the highest heels possible, so long as he would have me that way. After we had established that we were both not only ready to accept what had happened, but that we looked forward to the challenges with which we would be presented, Fred began asking questions about Karen. He wanted to know what she looked like, how she dressed, what her voice sounded like. He seemed to want to know everything I could recall of her. I told him that Karen was about my age and stature. That she favored wearing brown tones, and that her complexion was such that they always looked good on her. That her most usual footwear was five-inch stiletto pumps, but that she sometimes wore heels even taller. She always dressed well, wore perfectly applied makeup, and was a very attractive woman. I told him that Karen was extremely well-spoken, with a smooth, calming voice, and that she gave the impression of a totally competent person. There was a long silence when I'd finished my description. Finally, Fred told me that he was sure that he'd met her. He then went on to tell me that a few days before he'd left for Canada, he'd been paid a visit at his office by someone who matched Karen's description perfectly. He couldn't recall her name, but said that he would be able to get it from his secretary. This person who he now thought to be Karen had come to him soliciting money for some kind of a charity, and had been the one who had told him of the upcoming Estate Sale. Whatever it was she had said, it had made him believe that there would be something at the sale of particular interest to me. He had nearly forgotten about it, but had remembered to mention it to me while we were driving to the airport that morning. "It was me who sent you to that Estate Sale," he said. "I feel responsible." I smiled up at him. "We all had some responsibility in this. Even though Karen set it up, and you conveyed the information to me, in the end, it was my choice to go there, to follow the impulses that led me to the crutches, to try them out, bring them home, and ultimately to use them. Don't fret over it, my darling Fred. All will work out in the end. The car rolled into our driveway. We were home. When I got out of the car, Fred wanted me to turn around several times so he could get a good look at my new shoes, new crutches, an how I handled myself with them. "You are more beautiful now than ever," he said, and somehow I knew that he was sincere when he said so. He sent me up to the room to get ready for bed, again reminding me of his promise not to let me sleep for a while yet. He carried his luggage into the house while I readied myself for bed. Sure to his promise, it was hours before either of us got any sleep. ----------------------------------------------------------- Our lives have in no way been diminished by the events described in this story. I thank all of you who have contributed encouragement and constructive critique of the story as it was told. I will submit one more segment, in which I will answer some of the questions which were posed to me by readers as the story unfolded. Again, my thanks to so many of you. Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted September 8, 2004 Share Posted September 8, 2004 One of the questions posed to me: Was it necessary to adjust my crutches in order to accommodate my ever-higher heels? The answer: My crutches have never been adjusted for height. There are several things to consider. First to consider is the reality that for a person of a given foot size, as the height of her heels increase, the corresponding incremental increases in her height will be smaller with each increase in heel height. Example: Assuming a single-sole shoe with no heel lift as the starting point. The first one inch heel lift will result in her being almost a full inch taller. The second one inch heel lift will add less to her height than did the first inch, so the two inches of heel lift might add perhaps slightly more than one-and-one-half inches to her height. The third one inch heel lift will add slightly less to her height than did the second, and the fourth even less than the third. With four inch heels something a bit less than three inches would have been added to her height. The reason for this phenomenon is that with each added increment of height, the ankle is rotated forward as well as upward. The first increment lifts it almost straight up. The second rotates it forward some. The third rotates if forward a bit moreso, and so on. At heights above four inches, the corresponding increases in height diminish rapidly, and when one has ventured into the realm of "extreme" heels of five inches or more, the ankle is rotated forward moreso than upward with each incremental increase in heel height. Since I was already in five inch heels when I first tried the crutches, the increases in heel height from five inches up to six-and-one-half inches probably did not increase my height more than a half inch or so. Other factors to consider are that for most full-time crutch users, each individual has a "comfort range" in crutch height. This range may allow for as much as a full inch variation, either up or down, in what is an acceptable crutch height. For example, a person whose "ideal" crutch height is 52 inches should easily adapt to crutches in the 51-53 inch range. Also, in my own particular case, my crutches were single-shaft and fixed in length. No adjustment is possible with them. They were and are "just right" for me. The slight increase in my height in going from five inch heels to six-and-one-half inch was barely noticable. So, while my fixed-length crutches have not been a problem within my established heel-height range of between six inches and six-and-one-half inches, they do limit my ability to wear shoes with platform soles. Since my arch is minimum six inches, any platform must have at least six inches more than the platform height. A one-inch platform would therefore necessitate heels of at least seven inches, and would make me a full inch taller than wearing six inch heels with no platform. Because of this, my maximum platform thickness is one-quarter inch. (I've one pair with one-half inch.) I've also been asked about my wearing ballet heels. No, I have not. I suspect that if I were to try, I'd be a bit too tall for my crutches. For those who asked, I appreciate your interest. Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Serenity Posted October 3, 2004 Share Posted October 3, 2004 Another question asked was: "How did the first time in 6 1/2" heels feel?" It's no secret that those of us who truly consider ourselves to be "high heels girls" possess a certain "interest" in shoes which insures that anytime we venture into new heights we are assured of pleasurable results. My first time in 6 1/2" heels was certainly no exception. I doubt that I'm alone in recalling that as a small girl, trying on my mother's high heels inititated a magical feeling that elevated me to another level of consciousness; going somewhere that could never be reached in ordinary flat shoes. Then, later on, upon being taken into the shoe store to purchase high heels of my very own for the first time, this same elation was there. Slipping into that first pair of perfectly fitted heels (even if they were only "kitten' heels) that were to be mine alone instilled a feeling of pride and accomplishment that can only be duplicated by acquiring yet even more new shoes. Each advancement through the upward march towards ever-increasing heel heights was cause for these same special feelings. You will recall that I had worked my way up to being comfortable with long stretches in 5" heels previous to the incident which triggered the necessity of my going even higher. Up to that time, my desire for ever-higher heels had never been clearly defined. So, the one thing that was different about my achieving 6 1/2" was that it was a clearly stated goal. That, plus the fact that I had to work to achieve it. In reality, 6 1/2" was beyond my limit until I actively trained to get there. Being constantly in heels of 6", then 6 1/4", then 6 3/8" was a big part of this training. Using the foot trainers also played a part. But since 6 1/2" was the stated benchmark, I was almost overcome with a special sense of pride and accomplishment when my feet accepted these shoes. Yes, there was a bit of difficulty in bending the toes to fit them into the toebox. Yes, the vertical rise of the lower part of the shank did seem to put more forward thrust to the arches of my feet than I had previously experienced. And yes, my ankles detected a bit more tension from this miniscule increase in heel height. But overall, I loved it. It's possible that Laurie could offer an even better description of how she felt upon achieving her first confident steps in her new 7" heels, since the memory is so much fresher in her mind. But, the feeling never goes away. Even after all these years, it still feels good to slide my feet into my heels each day. And even if new shoes are not the most exciting thing in life, they still provide a rush that is unmatched by any other item of clothing. (Perhaps it's because of the close personal contact/pressure between the feet and the shoes?) There's no doubt in my mind that high heels will take a lady where "practical shoes" have never trod. Love, Serenity Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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