The boots that made her feel zestful, confident, sexy… and horny

The afternoon sun was warm and soothing on Ruby’s bare back as she lay on her apartment
balcony, sipping a cooling drink. “Just a little lower please,” she
instructed Lana, “a little more, ah! right there.” Ruby was lying on a
padded deck chair, splendidly naked but for her tall red boots, and Lana
was standing beside her, massaging her back lovingly. Lana sported the
short blue maid’s uniform she wore all the time now when she wasn’t at
work. Her over-the-knee stockings were sheer white, but her girlish
platform slides had neon-bright colored stripes. The gentle breeze kept
lifting the skirt, tickling Lana’s bare behind.

“Would you like some more lotion?” Lana asked, pausing to pull down her
skirt. A futile effort.

“No, that’s fine for now. Mmmmmm, honey you’re getting good at this.
That course really paid off. Say, are there any messages for me?”

Lana switched to rubbing Ruby’s shoulders. “A couple. Let’s see now.

Mr. Page called again. He wants to know when you’ll let his wife make
love to him.”

Ruby yawned. “Maybe next week. He still hasn’t got those new sales
projections done.”

“And the mayor called, twice. He wants to take you out again.”

Ruby sipped her drink. “Such a nice man,” she said dreamily. “I think
the dealership may get an easement on our muni taxes.” She settled her
cheek more comfortably into the deep pillow.

There was silence for a little while. Ruby began idly swinging one foot
in the air. “I guess I shouldn’t complain,” she said at last. “These
boots really are wonderful. You know, I think they’ve completely changed
me, somehow. But it would still be nice to take them off, at least
occasionally.”

“Maybe you don’t need to take them off. They look marvellous, and you
said yourself they don’t hurt your feet.”

“Yes, but, what if I want to go to the beach? I can’t wear boots
there.”

“Honey you never go to the beach, remember? It’s boring and you can’t
swim.”

“OK, but come on, that was just an example. What if, oh I don’t know,
what if I decided to go hiking or take up tennis. There’s lots of times
when boots just won’t do.”

“Hey, stop this, baby, you’ll make yourself all tense again. Look, Ruby
you know there is like zero chance of you ever taking up things like
hiking. Face it, you’re a city girl.” She began working on Ruby’s thighs.
“Besides, you still like your boots, don’t you?”

“Mmmmm, I love them.”

“And they’re still comfortable, aren’t they?”

“Exquisitely.”

“Well then, there you go. Maybe these boots really are magic or
something. Oh, that reminds me.” She wiped her hands on a cloth and
shuffled back into the apartment, accidentally flashing her bare bottom as
she went.

She returned a few moments later with a newspaper in one hand and a
glass in the other. “There was something in the paper today that I thought
might interest you. Oh, here, I brought you a fresh drink.”

She flipped through the paper until she found what she was looking for.
She began reading out loud. The article was entitled “Whatever Happened to
Scarlett Doulini?”

“Today marks the third anniversary of the disappearance of Scarlett
Doulini, one of our town’s most successful and flamboyant citizens. The
popular widow of the late stage magician Dominic “The Great” Doulini,
Scarlett Doulini was for years a goliath in the city business community,
controlling enterprises ranging from hotels and restaurants to movie
theatres and clothing stores. The extent of her personal wealth was a
closely guarded secret, but most observers estimate she was one of the
richest women in the city, if not the whole tri-state area.”

“At the height of her popularity and success, Scarlett Doulini suddenly
announced that she was withdrawing from the limelight to ‘live a private
life.’ She transferred all her business holdings to a blind trust and
disappeared, saying only that she ‘might open a little shop somewhere.’ She
has not been seen in public since.”

“Before her disappearance, Scarlett Doulini was as well known for her
lifestyle and the company she kept as for her financial success. A
strikingly beautiful woman, she apparently had many lovers, including,
rumors have it, CEO’s of five major corporations, two former city mayors
and at least one prominent judge. Mrs. Doulini was a fashion icon, always
showing the latest and best fashions, and wearing them well. Yet she
earned the nickname “boots” for the flashy red boots she so often wore to
–”

Ruby sat up and tore the newspaper from Lana’s hands. “I would have
given it to you,” the girl demurred.

Ruby scanned the article quickly. There were several pictures. “Lana,
that’s it!” she almost shouted. “Scarlett Doulini. I know where she is!
These were her boots! She can tell me how to get them off!”

“Um, Ruby, are you sure…”

“Lana, don’t just stand there, find my car keys. I have to get
dressed.”

An hour later, Ruby was strolling along Sullivan Street, turning heads
in a tight, white sweater and skimpy red shorts, feeling happier than she
had ever been. Remarkable how her life could change so much in — was it
only four months? Here she was, at 22 the senior partner and top
salesperson in the biggest, most successful auto dealership in the city.
Business was booming, and there were easy prospects for expanding into
other arenas. The next step might be retail clothing: Lana’s manager, the
franchise owner as it turned out, would certainly be willing to consider
concessions in return for continued access to Lana’s charms. Ruby was
certain she could sweet-talk the major into a nice tax break.

Ruby looked down at her glistening red boots with the towering platform
heels. The boots she couldn’t take off. The boots that made her look
great. The boots that made her feel zestful, confident, sexy… and
horny.

That was the best part. She couldn’t seem to get enough sex now. A few
months ago she might have tentatively moved toward bed with a promising man
after several dates. Now it seemed she was fucking everybody in sight.
Men worshipped her; women couldn’t resist her. She winked at a man driving
by on the street and he nearly had an accident. Ruby laughed with
unabashed delight. At last she came to the second-hand shop where it all
began. Where she would finally get to say “Thank you!” to Mrs. Scarlett
Doulini.

She looked in the window. The shop was empty. The racks of clothing
were gone and the interior was dark and deserted. A “For Lease” sign hung
crookedly on the door.

Ruby tried the doorknob. It was unlocked. She stepped inside. Her
bootheels clicked on bare concrete. A few coat hangers littered the floor.
Empty boxes were stacked in one corner.

Ruby looked around the empty shop, her heart heavy. “You disappeared
again,” she said quietly. “All I wanted to do was say thank you.” Her gaze
fell on a scrap of paper lying on the floor. She bent over and picked it
up, held it up in the light from the window. It looked like a business
card. But all it said, in big, red, flowing letters was:

“YOU’RE WELCOME.”

Ruby’s smile returned. Mrs. Doulini, a magician’s wife. But then
another thought occurred to her. Without Scarlett’s help, how would she
ever get the boots off? She turned the card over. On the other side, in
the same cursive script, it said:

“WHEN YOU GIVE THEM TO SOMEONE ELSE.”

Ruby began to laugh. She laughed loud and long and carefree. She was
still laughing when she tossed the card away and walked out the door, her
tall red boots gleaming in the summer sunshine.