Evelyn’s new heels let her tower over Eve’s old foes.
tags: corruption, nsfw, reality change, transformation
Eve’s sweatshirt was halfway off before she realized something was amiss. “What the hell is this?” she snarled at the empty locker room, her tolerance for pranks and insults already at its limit. “Who put them here?!”
The answer to the first was self-evident: they were a pair of very tall, very shiny black boots, mysteriously and impossibly left in her locked locker. A little card propped against a five-inch heel seemingly answered the second:
It’s time you enjoyed walking in someone else’s shoes.
From: A Friend
The calligraphy was impeccable, the embossing clearly expensive. Eve barely noticed. She couldn’t notice. The boots wouldn’t allow her to notice anything but themselves. They were demanding, in that way. Powerful. Imposing. Sexy.
And if she wore them, they promised, then she would be all those things, too.
Carefully, gingerly, she reached out to touch them, running one unpainted nail across their polished, textured surface. She found the artfully disguised zipper on the inseam, sucking in a sharp breath at the feel of slider’s cool metal. She wanted these boots, she realized. She wanted them on her.
But more than that, she wanted to be the type of woman who could make them look good. She wanted to deserve these boots.
She blinked, surprised to find she had slipped her sneakers off, that she had let go of the boots for a moment to undo her pants. What was going on? Whose boots were these? How did they get… did they get…
She shook her head, pushing the questions from her mind. The kind of woman that wore these boots wasn’t consumed with doubt. She wasn’t gentle, she wasn’t careful, and she took what she wanted.
And that, Eve realized, was the kind of woman she deserved to be.
Deliberately, she pulled her pants off the rest of the way, the last pair of pants she would ever wear. Only skirts from here on out, nothing that would stand between her flesh and the feel of these perfect, wonderful boots on her legs. And they were perfect, as if they had been custom crafted for her legs alone. She moaned as they enveloped her calves in a blissful tightness, as they arched her feet into a predatory, commanding stance. The zipper slid effortlessly up, up past her ankle, along her leg, stopping only at her knee.
Stopping only once her fate was sealed.
The locker door room swung open behind her, and with it came the gossip and cruelty that had driven Eve to the solitude of the locker room in the first place.
“—and did you see when she fell down? What a dumb klutz! She looked like a walrus, blubbering as she…”
The speakers trailed off as they saw her. Without turning, she knew it was a trio of girls—the head cheerleader Tina, flanked by her two lieutenants—fresh from mocking the less fit students from their vaunted spot high in the bleachers.
Very slowly, very methodically, Evelyn fixed the dark red lipstick on her full lips, leaving the three intruders to gape in wonder at her back. She turned just as slowly, smoothing the front of her latex skirt with her hands, letting the deep red of her long fingernails contrast against the shiny black material. And then she lifted her eyes.
“You were saying something, Samantha?”
The girl on the left shook her head. “N-no, Eve… Evelyn. No ma’am.” Tina turned to flash her a look of disgust, confused at her underling’s sudden subservience to another master.
“That’s very good, Samantha.” Evelyn reached back into her locker, retrieving a silver cigarette case. “You know how I feel about pointless cruelty.”
“You feel it’s a waste of effort, ma’am,” the other flanking cheerleader, Amy, spoke up. “That it’s the last refuge of the truly weak.”
Tina swiveled on her other traitor minion. “What the hell, Amy? You, too? And you—there’s no smoking on the university grounds. If the dean finds out, you’ll be expelled!”
Evelyn slowly exhaled. “Then go lock the locker room door, so she doesn’t.”
For a moment, Tina felt a pull, an alien compulsion to do exactly what this powerful woman demanded. “I’ll… I’ll go tell him myself!” Tina retorted, swaying in place, shaken.
“No, you won’t,” Evelyn replied, and Tina knew, clearly and suddenly, that she wouldn’t tell. That she couldn’t tell. That she had never told.
“Noooo,” she whined, stumbling back. “This isn’t right. I’m in charge. I’m the head cheerleader. Everyone does what I… say?”
“Oh, Tina. You’re so easily confused. Of course you’re the head cheerleader. It’s just that…”
Samantha and Amy were at Tina’s sides, smiling and glassy-eyed, boxing her in. Around their necks were the collars they had always worn, hidden underneath sweaters and high necklines but now exposed in the privacy of the locker room.
“… it’s just that all the cheerleaders belong to me.”
Tina whimpered. She reached up, feeling the same silver band around her neck, her finger tracing her owner’s engraving with new-found familiarity.
Evelyn’s Pet.
Amy and Samantha began to kneel, and as they did they led Tina back to where she belonged. The further she sank, the more she remembered. The way her mistress’ strong shoulders flexed, exposed by her tight halter top. The way her raven-black hair framed her beautiful, hard face. The way Her lips pulled into a cruel, controlled smirk. How could Tina have forgotten? It was all so clear that She was in command, and tina was not.
Everything about her Mistress was perfect, and tina kept that image in her mind as she turned her attention to her Mistress’ perfect boots. They demanded her attention, and she gave and gave and gave, her tongue running across their immaculate leather surface. They were so perfect together, her Mistress and Her boots, and tina and amy and samantha were so, so lucky to get to serve Them both.
And in the corner, long forgotten, Eve’s old sneakers began to turn shiny and black.
This story owes its existence to my friend Zyzzyva, who challenged me to write a shorter, corruption-focused story as a warm-up. The story is heavily influenced by decades of consuming Evie Hyde’s phenomenal corruption and transformation captions, work I’ve been enjoying since Evie first began posting all the way back on Yahoo! Groups. Finally, I want to thank my supporters on Patreon, who made this story possible, and who got to read this story six weeks early!