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Trapped Again


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Trapped Again, by OnYourToes

The Stiletto Trap is a story that has been published on various web sites since the mid-1990’s. The author Leathr, is otherwise unknown and does not respond to queries. It is a story about a woman who receives an unexpected package which contains a pair of 5 inch heel pumps. When she tries them on, they lock to her feet and she cannot remove them. As the story develops we find she is monitored and controlled by an unknown agent. Through electrical shocks from the shoes and other means, she is forced to deliver more locking shoes to other women. After a couple years of this bondage, she is finally helped out of her plight.

Monday, September 27, 2004

Dear Diary, I read The Stiletto Trap again tonight. I don’t know what it is about that story, but I just can’t seem to get enough of it. I’ve never even worn high heels, so the experience must be, well it just excites something inside me. Maybe someday I’ll find a way to try high heels.

Tomorrow Judy is leaving to go to Germany to stay with her sister for 4 weeks and I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet. She seems to be having a much easier time of this “life of leisure” business than I. Her trip is the first really extravagant thing we’ve done with our winnings. I just hope we manage our wealth wisely and not end up on the list of penniless lottery winners.

Tuesday, September 28.

Dear Diary, I took Judy to the airport today and she’s on her way to Germany. On our way in the car, she asked me what I was going to do alone for the next 4 weeks. I admitted I really didn’t know. She quickly made a lot of suggestions – some, like go rent a cabin in Maine and go fishing were things I used to talk about with her. Others, were spur of the moment ideas, prompted by our environment.

We were sitting in the airport just outside the security checkpoint and she started pointing around. She pointed at a poster of Hawaii and said to go there, then she pointed to the news shop and said I should write a book. A man wearing a cowboy hat and boots walked by and she said that some men love fancy cowboy boots, why don’t you go to Texas and buy some. After that we said goodbye and she headed for her plane. Her last words were, “Now you go have some fun. Fulfill a fantasy or two!”

On the way home, I kept thinking about the things she said. I stopped at a supermarket and bought enough groceries to last for a while and came home.

Tired. Good night, Mr. Diary.

Wednesday, September 29.

Dear Diary, Last night I fell asleep watching a John Wayne movie and I found myself staring at all the men’s boots. They all had high heels! Well, not really that high, but higher than I’ve ever owned. Judy had a good idea, after all (though I never doubted her intelligence.) I thought going to Texas was a bit much, so I checked the telephone directory.

I went to a local western apparel shop and looked around. While, the boots I saw in the movie appeared to have heels that were probably over 3 inches high I couldn’t find a single pair that looked much over 1 1/2 inches. I somewhat nervously asked a salesman if they had anything with higher heels, and he looked surprised and said that nobody wants them anymore.

He finally found a pair of very old stock in the back room that had heels that were, maybe, a bit over 2 inches. I tried them on and could immediately feel the difference from my loafers, a nice feeling, so I bought them. They’re black with simple stitching and pointed toes, another change for me.

On the way home I stopped at a shoe repair shop and asked if they could add a little bit to the heels. The cobbler studied them, tipped them up about a half inch on the counter, and said that was about all he could add. I offered him $20 for a rush job and now I own a pair of western boots with heels that are nearly 3 inches high!

Thursday, September 30.

Today I got up and immediately put on my boots and started trying on various pants and jeans to find just the right way of showing off my boots without making the heels too obvious – I guess I’m feeling shy about it. I settled on a pair of boot cut jeans – now I know what they mean. Then I went out and tried to experience all I could with my new footwear. I went upstairs and down, I walked on grass, sidewalk, cobblestones (be careful!), and a root studded path through the woods (be very careful!).

I definitely liked the feel of standing and walking in (on?) heels and I was starting to feel pretty cool at how well I managed. Then a woman wearing what looked like 5 inch stiletto heeled boots walked by and suddenly I felt very disappointed in my boots. I had to get something higher!

I spent the evening on the internet and was amazed at the number of dealers selling shoes and boots with unbelievably high heels and in my size – women’s 11 (I think).

I placed an order and paid extra for overnight delivery. They’ll be shipped tomorrow and ought to arrive Saturday.

Friday, October 1.

I talked to Judy on the phone today. She’s having a great time and asked if I had done anything interesting yet. I told her nothing special, but I was thinking of getting a pair of cowboy boots. She warned me that some have very high heels and I’d probably be uncomfortable, “Don’t become a slave to fashion!”

I had dinner at my parents. My father spotted the boots immediately and told me he had a pair before I was born and might want to get some again. My mother said how she always liked to see him in his boots, “I especially loved how you swaggered on those high heels.”

Saturday, October 2.

My order arrived yesterday. Are you ready for this, Mr. Diary?

Pair 1. A pair of black patent leather pumps with pointed toes and 5 inch heels.

Pair 2. A pair of black leather knee-high boots with 6 inch heels, AND

Pair 3. A pair of black leather knee-high boots with 8 inch heels! They’re like a pair of toe dancer shoes except that they’re knee high boots and have heels to keep you on your toes always. They’re called ballet boots.

I actually felt faint when I first saw them.

I spent the next several hours playing fashion show, first putting on one pair, then another, then one of each to compare looks and feeling. Here’s what I found:

The 5 inch pumps. I can actually stand and walk in these. I was pretty wobbly, though, and my ankles felt pretty sore after standing and walking around the room for a while. I think I could build up to wearing them nearly all day, and yes, I do enjoy wearing them.

The 6 inch boots. I’ve met my match here. The first time I stood up, I nearly fell forward on my face. If I concentrate I can stand with my knees straight, but I’m not sure I can master these even with continued practice.

The ballet boots. These are an unbelievable experience. They zip up and have laces so they can be adjusted for a snug fit, and they feel best laced very tight. The tightly laced leather does not allow much flexing so even sitting down, my toes are stuck pointed down all the time – I’m sure I won’t wobble as much either. The first time I stood up, I nearly screamed with pain!

I looked online at a couple dancing sites and found out about silicone toe cushions. I went to a local dancer’s supply store and got a pair. I also carefully trimmed my toenails.

Trial #2. I lurched slowly across the room hanging on to furniture and the wall as I went.

The 6 inch heel boots didn’t seem as hard after that.

Sunday, October 3.

Today I did some yard work and went to a book store in my cowboy boots, then I put on my 5 inch pumps and picked up the house and folded laundry.

My parents are going to Florida for several weeks and leaving tomorrow, so I spent time at their house helping get everything in order.

I hope I can get back to conquering those damn ballet boots.

Monday, October 4.

Dear Diary, I don’t know where to start. The most incredible situation has come up!

Sunday night after I wrote about conquering the ballet boots, I had an idea. I had noticed how the tighter they were laced, the less pain there was upon standing. This is, of course, because more of my weight is supported by the boot and less by the ends of my poor toes.

I thought maybe if the boots were somehow stuck to my feet, then I’d have even more support.

I had a can of rubber cement. That stuff sticks pretty well, but is soft and easy to peel off, so I figured what the heck, rubbed some on my feet, put on the boots, and sat around for a half hour to let the glue dry. I stood up and they didn’t hurt! I walked all around the house and though it was very hard to walk with my ankles completely straight balanced on such a tiny base, I could do it.

On to this morning…

I woke up with an incredible headache and a cramp in my right calf. When I threw off the covers to grab my leg to work out the cramp, I realized I was wearing the ballet boots.

I tried to unzip them, but the zippers were both stuck! By this time the cramp had subsided and I had time to think.

There was a strong odor of a chemical solvent that seemed to be causing my headache, then it all hit me in a flash!

Apparently the fumes from the rubber cement had somehow intoxicated me – I had that experience once before with some cleaners and remembered how it made me totally reckless. In my fumed mind, I apparently decided that what I needed was a stronger adhesive.

I had a quart can of contact cement which I had used to re-laminate my kitchen counter tops. That stuff is flexible, strong, and loaded with a solvent that I’m sure made me even crazier!

So, you’re ahead of me now. That’s right, I glued the boots on. Not just a bit on my bare feet, but I wanted to be sure so I soaked a pair of knee socks in the glue, put them on, then zipped up the boots. Not only are the boots totally stuck to my skin, but the solvent has fused the zippers so they won’t unzip.

I spent the rest of the morning trying to figure out a way to get those boots off. The socks present a lot of area both to my skin and the boots, and provide a nice flexible interface to fill any gaps and keep the glue from cracking.

I unlaced them, but it did no good. A pull strong enough to get the boot material away from my leg will tear my skin, and even then, there’s no way of getting my feet out of the toe box.

I am stuck, help!!!

Tuesday, October 5.

Dear Diary, morning edition. I finally decided last night to stop being frantic, and to wait a little while. Skin grows and old skin falls off. After a few days, I should be able to peel the boots and socks off.

But, it was a very, very, long night. I kept dreaming that there was something wrong with my legs and I couldn’t move my ankles. Then I’d wake up and discover it wasn’t a dream at all.

Yesterday I was too upset to eat so this morning, I woke up starving and made pancakes wearing ballet heel boots. I’m still upset, but it’s kind of exciting, too, just like The Stiletto Trap only it’s real and it’s me. Very arousing.

Evening. My ankles and calf muscles are really sore tonight. I called the manufacturer of the contact cement and asked how dried on glue can be removed from skin. They recommended a solvent, but repeatedly warned of its dangers of being absorbed through the skin and fume intoxication. I think I’d better avoid that one.

I called a dermatologist and tried to learn how long it takes for an entire layer of skin to replace itself. I had a hard time explaining exactly what I meant without telling of my situation. He was patient and said he really didn’t know, but thought, “Maybe a month or two.”

I don’t know if I can go that long on my toes. I may have to risk solvent toxicity or torn skin before then.

Wednesday, October 6.

Still on my toes. I’m starting to get cabin fever, I’ve got to get out for a while, but how? What would people think? I know (or maybe I don’t) what I’d think if I saw a man walking down the street wearing knee high ballet boots.

After dark, I did walk up the driveway to the mailbox on the street. I’m getting really good at walking on these boots, even on the slightly rough concrete of the sidewalk. It does take a while, though. I still sway around and my steps are pretty short.

Took a long hot shower (sitting on a stool most of the time). My feet and legs stayed perfectly dry inside the boots and the warm moisture didn’t do anything to loosen the glue.

Thursday, October 7.

I went out today! I put on a pair of pants that I had accidentally bought in too long a length and never got around to returning. They just about covered the boots. When I walked up to the mirror to see how they looked, I thought I looked like I had some sort of leg deformity -- I walked with curiously long legs with unbending ankles and no apparent feet sticking out of my pants.

From that observation, I decided maybe I could blend in better that way, so I went down cellar (stairs are nearly impossible with rigid ankles), and dug out the crutches Judy used when she broke her ankle a couple years ago. I put them up as high as they’d go and found they really helped me walk more confidently while completing my disguise as someone who looked like they had 2 peg legs.

I waited until around dinner time when the stores are less crowded and went to the hardware store to look at possible tools and solvents to try to get the boots off.

I got a few curious or pitying stares, but I don’t think anybody realized my deformity was really a pair of absurdly high heel boots.

The only scary moment was on my way home: I got stopped for running a stop sign! When I saw the blue lights in my mirror I thought that it was the end. My heart was racing so, I thought I was really going to die.

Police know everybody is nervous when stopped, but the officer thought I was a bit too nervous, like I was trying to hide something. That’s when he asked me to get out of the car.

When I started reaching for my crutches, he spotted them and told me he was sorry, he didn’t know. Then asked why I was so nervous, and I told him I wasn’t supposed to drive without handicapped plates on my car (I made that up), but this was my other car. He said he wasn’t being paid to hassle people like me and sent me on my way with “Have a nice evening, and watch those stop signs from now on.”

Friday, October 8.

I tried dripping some of the solvent down the boots today. It didn’t go very far because they’re on like a second skin, but I was able to pull about a half inch of boot away from my leg. I tried working down from there and cutting the leather, but eventually realized that it would take me days at the rate I was going. Also as the solvent dried, the boot tended to stick back on, and where skin had flaked, now the glue was stuck to new skin. Not a good idea.

5 full days in ballet heels and no end in sight. At times I’m desperate like the woman in The Stiletto Trap, and at other times so aroused by my situation I never want the boots to come off. This is such a truly amazing experience!

Friday, October 15.

Dear Diary. It’s been 12 days now. I hardly notice the boots anymore. That glue idea really worked. I can stand and walk for hours with hardly any discomfort. In the past week I’ve been to the supermarket twice, gone to a movie (those slanted aisles are impossible to walk down), mowed the lawn (and aerated it at the same time), bought a shirt, browsed a bookstore and the library, had a pizza delivered, and ate in a restaurant. Yet, it would be nice to put on a pair of sandals and go down to the beach for a while. I tried walking in sand, but sank in to my ankles. I had to crawl back to the pavement.

I’ve gotten a few stares, but I still don’t think anybody has penetrated my “disguise.”

The glue doesn’t seem quite as stuck today, but deep down, I know I’ve got to stay this way for at least another week – maybe much longer! Despair.

Saturday, October 16.

This afternoon I fell asleep lying in bed watching another John Wayne movie (his boots look positively flat to me now). Suddenly, I was awake with a start. Judy had come home early!

She had found life with her sister in Germany to be not very interesting and realized she could have a lot more fun at home traveling with me. She wanted to surprise me so didn’t call and took a cab from the airport. Well she succeeded! I think I pumped out more adrenaline than even during my traffic stop last week.

My feet were under the covers at the time but she spotted the crutches propped by the door and asked if I was OK.

I thought frantically for a moment and all I could think of was the truth. I told her about The Stiletto Trap, the cowboy boots, the desire to try even higher heels, the pumps, and the spike boots. She was pretty unbelieving that shoes with heels higher than 4 inches or so even existed and told me I was probably mistaken. Then she said, “Ah, I see. You sprained your ankle trying to walk in high heels.”

I told her no, and she suddenly looked concerned and asked if I had broken something. She grabbed one of my, still under the covers, booted legs and said, “Oh, my God. Is that a cast?”

I pushed her hand away and carefully told her the rest of the story. The ballet boots, the rubber cement, the fumes, and the socks and contact cement. Then I swung my legs out from under the covers and showed her.

She started laughing and I thought she would never be able to stop. She said this is the funniest situation she’s ever seen anyone get themselves into.

She eventually calmed down, except for occasional brief fits of laughter, and had me walk around the room. By now I can walk without the slightest wobble or hesitation and my strides are long and sure.

I made dinner, wearing ballet heels of course, then we watched a movie and went to bed. It turns out she is as aroused by my predicament as I am by the Stiletto Trap woman.

These boots are wonderful.

Sunday, October 16.

We got up at 8:00 this morning and stayed in bed doing, well, stuff, until almost Noon. She said she wanted to try it, too! I agreed, but thought she should wait until I was free.

We went online and ordered a pair of ballet boots for her.

Sunday, October 23.

It’s been 21 days. For the first couple weeks, I started each day with an attempt to remove the boots. Today I realized I hadn’t even tried all week. It’s amazing what the body can get used to. But still 20 days on 8 inch heels! It is still such a turn on for both of us.

We’ve been pretty much living a normal life during the day doing many of our usual activities. I’m starting to miss sports, though. I’d get thrown off the golf course, and I don’t think I could swim effectively. I tried cycling yesterday, but the pedals slipped up into the arches so the toes and heels kept hitting the ground.

This afternoon we were in a restaurant when Judy’s friend Marcie spotted us. She could see the crutches resting on a chair, but couldn’t see my feet. She was very concerned and wanted to know what was wrong. Judy said it was really nothing and she’d call later.

That brought up a long discussion about our friends. We hadn’t really seen any for nearly a month and Judy worried they’d think we were avoiding them for some reason.

Monday, October 24.

Judy confessed today that she talked to Marcie on the phone and told her what was wrong. I was furious at first, but then she told me about how fascinated Marcie was with my situation and wanted to see me. Marcie later admitted she was so turned on thinking about it she thought she’d burst.

Tuesday, October 25.

Judy got her ballet boots today. I gave her my extra pair of toe cushions and she tried them on. Although she was obviously having a hard time walking on them, she said they only hurt a little bit. She did say, now that she’s worn them, she finds it unbelievable that anyone could walk as well as I do – even after 3 weeks of continuous practice.

Marcie came over and tried Judy’s boots on. She didn’t do very well but said she really wanted a pair to wear sometime when she sees her boyfriend Mike. “I think they’d make for an interesting evening.” Judy smiled and said, “Maybe more interesting than you can ever imagine.”

Sunday, October 31.

I’ve been sleeping, walking, driving, shopping, bathing, and everything else in the most extreme high heels possible for 4 weeks now. Sometimes I forget about them, sometimes I feel totally depressed and helpless, and the rest of the time I can’t believe how great I feel living out a fantasy like this!

Marcie and Mike came over today. Marcie was wearing ballet boots, and Mike was wearing a silly smile. Judy put hers on, and when I walked out into the room and met him, I could see the bulge in his pants. He asked if he and Marcie could “borrow” the guest room.

Monday, November 1. We had to go to a shoe repair shop today. The stiletto heel tips on my boots were completely worn out and the soles were getting thin, too. He was more than a little confused at such a totally strange request – replacing heel tips on a type of shoe he had never seen while they were still on someone’s feet – a man, no less.

For about the last week when we’ve gone out I haven’t bothered with the crutches. Partly, people just never look at men’s feet, and partly this feels so natural, I forget I’m wearing them or that anything is strange. Last evening we went out for dinner, and Judy wore her ballet boots with a skirt and people did notice her. A couple times I overheard people saying something about heels or shoes, and once I distinctly heard, “Look, the man too!”

Thursday, November 3. It’s been one month today. How much longer can this go on? I can’t bike, run, swim, or take a decent shower. It takes me twice as long to walk a distance as I used to, and I feel like some sort of a freak every time we go out shopping. My toenails desperately need trimming and are starting to hurt my toes, and there’s an unpleasant odor starting. I haven’t tried to get them off for weeks now because even though I know it’s hopeless, I don’t try because the possibility of failure is just too much to face. help me.

Judy is as patient, helpful, and loving as ever, but she can see how my mental state has been deteriorating over the past couple weeks. She tries to jolly me up, but it rarely works.

Sunday, November 14. Last night I took a long hot bath, and when I stood up I nearly screamed with the pain in my toes. The nails had been hurting lately, but this pain was excruciating, more like the first time I ever put the boots on. I pictured myself in a wheelchair and moaned in despair.

Judy came in and asked what was wrong. I told her about the pain and she got all excited and said, “The only thing wrong is your foot slid forward because the glue let go! Come on in the bedroom and let’s get these off you.”

It took about an hour with some help from solvents, scissors, and knives,. The boots are totally destroyed, the socks are in tatters, and my feet and legs are dirty and stinky, but they’re free.

When the boots were finally off, I stood up to hug Judy and immediately fell back on to the bed howling from the awful pain in my calf muscles and Achilles tendons. I tried putting weight on my feet more gradually and could see that my calf muscles had atrophied from disuse, my Achilles tendons were severely shortened, and my ankle, foot, and toe joints were stiff and very painful to move.

Judy set me up soaking my feet and ankles in 2 buckets of hot water and carefully scrubbed off all the dead skin and glue residue, but I still couldn’t flatten my feet to the floor. I thought I could walk on my toes, but my calf muscles had no strength because they had been supported by the heels, and my toes still hurt to bend. I was more immobilized than I ever was wearing the heels.

We decided that a good night’s sleep would probably fix a lot of my troubles.

Monday, November 15.

As soon as I got up, I tried to put my feet down again. No go. Judy came in and said she had gotten up early and was doing some research online. She learned about women (well mostly) who wore high heels too much and ended up with shortened tendons. Some said it was permanent!

I tried on the 5 inch heel shoes I bought at the beginning of this whole thing, and found I could stand and walk. My leg muscles were very weak and I was really wobbly, but at least I was able to walk. I made it to the living room and collapsed on the couch. My calf muscles were screaming from the unaccustomed exercise, and my Achilles tendons were very sore from the stretching. It looks like 5 inches is about as low as I can go for now.

We ordered a series of shoes with gradually diminishing heel heights with the hopes I could slowly work my way down.

Thursday, November 25.

Thanksgiving day. We went to my parents for dinner today. I’ve made quick progress in lowering my heels and I’m back to my cowboy boots – we had the heels raised to 3 1/2 inches and I almost look normal again.

My father commented on the boots again, and my mother said, “You know, if you wear high heels like that too much, you’ll find you have to wear them all the time, and that’s no fun at all.”

I think my mom had some good advice!

Friday, November 26.

I woke up with a headache with the distinct tang of glue fumes in the air -- I had quite a bit to drink at my parents; had I done it again?

A quick wiggle of my toes told me no. I turned over to wake up Judy and saw her sitting in bed frantically tugging at her ballet boots.

Now it was my turn to laugh.

The End

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WOW! Now that is a story! BRAVO!!!!!!! :evil: I enjoyed reading that story immensely. You have a real way of putting the point-of-view directly on the character and it just kept me reading until the end (the heel theme never hurts, but hey........) All in all...GREAT story!

SQ.....still busting societal molds with a smile...and a 50-ton sledge!

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  • 5 weeks later...

Friday, November 26.

I woke up with a headache with the distinct tang of glue fumes in the air -- I had quite a bit to drink at my parents; had I done it again?

A quick wiggle of my toes told me no. I turned over to wake up Judy and saw her sitting in bed frantically tugging at her ballet boots.

Now it was my turn to laugh.

The End

:evil: Funny, very funny!

Hello, :wave: my name is Hoverfly. I’m a high heel addict…. Weeeeeeeeeee!  👠1998 to 2022!

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Thanks for the compliments. It's a story that's been developing in my head for a while, I'm glad to have finally written it down.

I love to end my stories with a twist or bang, and love to write stories where things go terribly wrong.

Has anyone else here done National Novel Writing Month? All you have to do is write a 50,000 word story entirely during November.

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  • 4 weeks later...

That is a great story. I have read the stiletto trap some years ago and still have it some where on my computer. Your story puts a realistic spin to it which might even be physically possible.

Makes me wonder what I can realistically do to endure the ballet boots for more than a couple of minutes.

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  • 3 years later...

great story.... ever used locks on your shoes to trap you in?

if you are interested on trapping yourself in heels 4-6" then google Pleaser heels 434 series. I own Vanity black patent 4" and sometimes trap the key somewhere, so I'm heeled for while. :smile: thinking on getting Domina heels as they have interchangable cuffs, 6" high and I could use the culfs on my Vanity heels to walk in public without the sight of locks :smile:.

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  • 1 month later...

Could I help you in your trials Cindy? I don't think that sending me your key with a immeadiate "Return to sender letter" would help you? Then you'd stay locked in ballets for about one week, if the snail mail is quick enough? If you like I could sed it back with registered letter so that you could only recieve the letter personally from the postman? :wave::smile:

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Hello! I just loved teh story! I'm sure it was written by someone who very well knows how a man feels when he wears high heels. Way to go, Very good! I really wait for Part Nr2. Actually I thought that in the end the protagonist would wake up and his wife would tell him that she actually liked him more in the balletboots, that is why she bought a new pair and glued them back on while he was sleeping :-)

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