The scrap of paper flutters rapidly against the plastic table, only prevented from flying off by the weight of a small stone.  The boots are standing upright in their box just waiting for someone to come along and buy them.  I look at them piteously.  It would be a shame for Chrissy to just trash them without anyone having worn them.  They were really cute and Halloween was coming up.  I could probably throw together a costume that included them.

 

I gesture at Chrissy to come over.  She stops unloading a box full of mismatched mugs and hustles over.

 

"Hey Chrissy, what size are these?"

 

"Well I'm a size six so I'd assume size six," she replies, tugging the shoebox lid out from underneath the shoebox, "Although I remember there being something weird about them... Oh right!  They're supposed to be 'One Size Fits All'!"

 

She taps the corner of the shoebox lid.  Printed within a comical sunburst are indeed the words: "One Size Fits All!"

 

"That's impossible," I scoff, my eyes sliding up the lid towards the brand name, "Doctor Sols?  I've never heard of that brand.  What are they, some sort of gag gift?"

 

"I have no idea," Chrissy admits with a shrug, "I picked them up because they were cheap and I was going to put together a secret agent costume a few years ago for Halloween.  But then the bodysuit didn't show up in time so I had to fall back on my previous year's costume of low-effort ghost."

 

I grin remembering Chrissy's crappy ghost costume.  A white tablecloth with a hole cut out for her head and three pieces of black felt sewed to the front for a mouth and eyes.  She forgot to cut arm holes, so she spent the whole night having to claw her way out from underneath it to open doors, hold drinks, and shake hands.

 

"If you want them, you can have them for ten bucks." She offers, placing the lid back on the table, "If they don't fit, bring them back one of the other days I'm doing the yard sale and you can just swap them out for something else that's ten dollars."

 

"So your refund policy is that I still have to take home some of your old junk?" I try to give her my most accusatory look, but I’m betrayed by the playful grin tugging at the corners of my mouth.

 

"Isn't that the point of a yard sale?" She perks her head up to peek over my shoulder, "If you want them, you better buy them now.  I have a feeling that old fella over there is going to want me to help him untangle every cable in that big ball of wires I've been trying to get rid of.  He'll probably ask me to explain what each one is to him too."

 

"Alright, deal." I slide a ten out of my wallet and hand it over, "Good luck with the sale."

 

"Thanks!" She strolls past me towards an older man staring perplexedly at a knotted mass of wires and cables he’s trying to tug apart.  I nestle the boots down into their box and flip the lid over top of them.  I give the lid one last read before I head home:

 

 

I stroll the three blocks home and let myself in.  Dani is still stretched out on the sofa playing one of her farming simulator games.  She looks up as I walked towards our bedroom.

 

"Hey sweetie, how was the yard sale?  Find any hidden treasures amid Chrissy's old crap?"

 

"Not really," I admit, "Just an old pair of boots that I might use for Halloween."

 

"Oh cool!  That means you can put together that Lady Fatale costume you were talking about."  She turns her head back towards her game.  "Lunch should be ready in fifteen minutes or so.  I've just got to finish planting all these pumpkin seeds..."

 

I walk off as she focuses back on her game, her eyes shining intensely behind her glasses.  I place the box of boots on the bed and sit down beside them, kicking my shoes off in the process.  I unzip the left boot and pull it on over my foot, frowning at how much space is inside the shoe.  Perhaps that’s the joke behind "One Size Fits All!"; that if they made the boot large enough anyone can fit into it, albeit not comfortably or in a way they could walk in them.  Sighing I zip the boot closed, the patent leather pulling together around my calf.  I shoot the shiny black boot a disappointed look, it’s clearly way too large for me.  Then I feel a tingling sensation.

 

It starts at my feet, like a hand gently brushing along the skin.  It continues up my ankles and through my calves as the glossy patent leather wriggles and writhes around my leg.  I cover my gasping mouth with both hands as I watch the boot shrink smaller and smaller until it was the perfect size.  The tingling feeling is supplanted by one of being held firmly but gently; every inch covered by the boot pulsing under a slight pressure that was comfortable, pleasant, and reassuring.

 

"Wow," I gasp breathily into the empty room, my hands already reaching for the other boot.  I unzip it, tug it on, and zip it back up again; watching and feeling as the shrinking process happens once more.  A minute later I’m left with two perfectly fitting, and rather sexy, shiny gogo boots.  I strut over to the mirror and strike a few poses in them, admiring how sleek they look on me now that they've adjusted to my size.  With a victorious grin on my face I saunter back over to the bed and lift one foot up to take them off.  I plan to put them back in the box until I can assemble the rest of my costume, but then the tingling feeling starts again.

 

This time it’s stronger, like a surge of electricity, zapping into my legs from the boot and jolting up through my body.  It doesn't hurt or sting, it’s more like a lively pressure zooming its way upward from my lower legs to my head.  My eyes close briefly as my back straightens and my head swings backwards.  When I open my eyes again I can't remember what I’ve been doing.  Confused, I look down at the boots and run an admiring finger over them.  I wonder how they would look in the mirror.

 

I strut over to the mirror and strike a few poses in them, admiring how sleek they look on me now that they'd adjusted to my size.  My brain interrupts my admiration of the glossy black boots with the eeriest feeling of deja-vu.  I brush it off and give a final slow spin in front of the mirror before I decide it’s time to put them back in the box until my costume comes.  I sit on the bed and reach for the zipper as a pulse of energy ripples through my body again.

 

My eyes are rolling as I straighten back up, having suddenly found myself lying flat on my bed.  Feeling a slight pressure around my legs, I look down.  I’m wearing some really cute black, patent gogo boots, although I can't remember putting them on.  I roll my feet around slowly, giddily watching the light reflect off the shiny surface of the shoes.  It’s almost mesmerizing.  Smiling a dopey smile I get up to check out how they look in the mirror.

 

I awake again on the bed, eyes only half opening as I lift myself forward.  I stare into empty space for a minute before my vision drifts downwards, my eyes blinking rapidly in wonderment at the sexy pair of knee-high black boots I’m wearing.  Some time passes before I realize I’m sitting there with my mouth half-open, rocking my head back-and-forth as I follow the pretty streaks of light reflecting off of them as my legs swing side-to-side.  I hear a voice, I don't know whose, say the word "lunch" in the background as I shamble towards the mirror.  Even though everything in my mind is blurred and somewhat sleepy, I feel my body straighten up automatically as I check myself out in the mirror.  The corners of my mouth are tugged upwards by some phantasmal force as my body makes minor movements so I can see how gorgeous I look in my new footwear.  My mostly-lidded eyes drink in how wonderfully they accentuate my lower legs and how beautifully they catch the light before my body sways around clumsily and hobbles back to the bed.

 

"Brooke, are you okay?"  I can hear a faintly familiar voice nearby.  I open my eyes that I only now realize are closed.  I’m staring into a white void with a bright light at its center.  A rapidly-moving hand interrupts it.

 

"Hello?  Earth to Brooke," the voice says, a cute face suddenly eclipsing the light, "Stop staring at the ceiling and come get lunch."

 

"Get lunch," I murmur back as I stand up.  I follow the person who talked to me, the thought of getting lunch being all I can remember.  I sit down in front of a plate of rice and chicken and begin to slowly and methodically eat.  The owner of the voice sits across from me.

 

"So what's the verdict, did the boots fit?" the voice asks cheerily.

 

"Boots fit," I answer, my head nodding absently.

 

"Are you okay?" the owner of the voice asks, their head cocking in worry, "You sound a little tired."

 

"Okay... tired..." I mumble, my shoulders slumping as I say the word.  The owner of the voice stares at me as my body relaxes more and more into the chair behind me, my eyes struggling to stay open.  I hear the clatter of my fork as my hand lets it fall onto my plate before swinging down to my side.  My world goes dark until the voice speaks again.

 

"Brooke, stand up."  It’s mostly a command with just a hint of uncertainty at the end.  I feel my body rise to its feet, standing proudly on its two shiny boots.  My spaced-out eyes open lazily, spotting the voice's owner looking at me inquisitively.

 

"What's my name, Brooke?"  I shake my head slowly.  I feel like I should know this but everything is just so blurry right now.  I say the only name I can think of.

 

"Brooke?" I slur out, hoping I was right.

 

"Oh my god, you really are just a blank shell."  She arches her eyebrows as she looks down at the table.  With great effort I swivel my eyes to look where she’s looking.  There’s a box lid of some sort there with words that say "Dr. Sols Shoes" and then some other words after them.  The information means nothing to me.  As soon as I read past a word I forget it.  I try to cobble together a sentence, but the only words I can find are:

 

"A blank... shell?"  

 

I look back to the pretty owner of the familiar voice, hoping she understands what I’m trying to ask.  Not that I’m sure what I’m trying to ask; I’ve forgotten already.  A grin breaks out across her face as her eyes gleam wickedly.

 

"Oh, we are going to have so much fun tonight."  She says as she approaches me.

 

The night is a blur of half-forgotten movements, my body moving to Dani’s will and command.  She poses and teases and plays with me for hours as I blankly stare and drone back her words.  The physical pleasure of her caresses is pleasant beneath my mind’s haze, but does not compare to the mindless bliss radiating from my boots to my brain.  

 

I am blank and that is joy.  I am obedient and that is pleasure.  I am mindless and that is bliss.

 

I am a blank shell under Dani’s control and it feels so fucking good.

 

I moan without thought and let her use me as she will.

The next morning I awake as Dani unzips a pair of patent-leather boots off my legs that I was inexplicably wearing.  I blink and shake my head as sensual memories unblur in my mind.  I flush as they return to me: memories of Dani ordering my blank and mindless body around, of her playing with me and teasing me deep into the night before we both fell asleep in exhaustion.  It’s not embarrassment reddening my cheeks but arousal.  Heat dances between my legs at the thought of being blank and under her control again.  It just felt so fucking good.

 

 Dani carefully removes both boots and gingerly places them beside the bed.

 

"You're keeping those boots, Brooke," she insists as she pushes my eager body back into the bed, "And I think you're going to wear them more often than just on Halloween."