Goth Knee High Boots Novels & Stories

I pull out the most incredible, amazing gift ever. Doc Marten boots. I check the size. Nine. Perfect. "Boots?" King asks. I try to lift my foot, but my legs are too long, and I need to turn sideways. "Move to the other side so I can try these babies on." I look at him and grin. "These aren't just any boots, they're Doc Martens, the most kick-ass boots ever made. I can't believe she found them." King looks at the footwear, then at me. "Shift once while wearing them and bye bye boots."

" So now you're picking things willingly? What's the catch? " " If I don't look at the price then there won't be a problem. " I said as I picked up a cute pair of black booties with a heel, black bows and little designs. I don't know why but something had me drawn to them. I turned to Leo and nodded my head.

Then, turning my newly-acquired seat around, I set myself in a comfortable position for the main event: Juliana's spiked heels. Turning them over and over, I examine them carefully: what exactly do I have? I'm in luck. The boots were toe-teeteringly high... The heels are at least four inches long, certainly long enough to make a usable tool. She can't have walked far... And it must be decent paths or roads... So the car must be parked close by... The tips are steel; only perhaps a quarter of an inch diameter, of the kind that make a disaster zone of vinyl lay or parquet flooring.

Pffft, she blows her hair from her face, now digging under the bed. “Maybe you should try putting stuff away every now and then..” I tease. “Nah, not my style…AH HA!” she says, hoisting up a pair of shiny knee-high black boots. I start to put on the outfit courtesy of the Neverlands that is her closet. Being shifters and patrol partners, nudity doesn’t phase us much. I walk around like a baby giraffe as I get used to these damn boots, making my way to a mirror. Looking at myself, I look hot!

Next to the strap is another strap that’s an inch thick and white, with beads designing it. I paired the outfit with my four inch heel ankle boots. My hair is hanging in loose curls with my bangs in a side French braid. My makeup is minimal going with a light purple eye shadow, liner, mascara, and a clear coat of lip gloss. Of course, I’ve got a dagger in each boot and one strapped to my upper thigh. A girl can never be to careful now a days.

If that didn’t work and we still believed that someone was sketchy then I would work my whiles and seduce them. Tonight I sported my pleather shiny black leggings, they were greatly stuffed into the cuffs of my knee length tight black stilettos. My stilettos held a dual purpose, one they were super cute that often would enhance my sex appeal as men could not help but think about fucking me with those damn boots on. The other purpose was that the heel was also sharpened to a point and could if need be used to help stab a person that was attacking me. If I knew that this party was actually in the boonies I would have worn my steal toed black combat boots.

I have just ten minutes to get completely ready. I smooth out my make up, lace up my boots and pick up my dress. Nerves settle at the pit of my stomach. I take a deep breath to chase them away. I step into the dress, lacing the upper, mini corset. Finally done, I step back to survey my handiwork in the floor to ceiling mirrors. I look at my reflection, a breath of satisfaction momentarily getting stuck in my throat. I wear black, six inch, thigh high boots, made of the best leather. The black dress I have on makes a fashion statement.

She’d fed a gold chain through the belt loops of said jeans, and a long section of it dangled over the curve of her hip to the middle of her left thigh. I couldn’t help looking her over. One sweeping gaze from tip to top to stop my brain from imploding. She had on over the knee black suede boots adorned in gold buckles. The heels were high as hell and she wore them like she was born to do so; full of confidence, purpose and grit. Charlie planted both hands on her hips. “More like the man of the hour. This night is all about you. We’ve already got a good build-up of cash from ticket sales. When the girls take to the stage we’ll really start seeing some dough.”

That just be Nina. I went to answer the door and found Nina standing before me dressed in a black daring gown and emo makeup. “Did those shadows give you kisses? What's with the dark look?” I stepped aside for her to enter. “No, I'm mourning.” She walked past me, brushing my shoulder. When did she get that tall to reach my shoulders? The last time I checked, she was 5’3. My eyes fell on her shoes and I got my answer. Of course. It was always the high heeled boots that did the trick.

And finally, she stepped into the heavy, rugged combat boots she had scraped together every last coin to buy—footwear designed for harsh terrain and punishing labor. The boots were startlingly heavy. When she lowered her weight onto them, a dull, solid thud echoed through the room. Unlike light sneakers, these boots were built with thick rubber lug soles and reinforced steel toes, intended for tracking through the dense, unforgiving wilderness of the northern mountains. They instantly added an inch or two to her height, but more importantly, they completely transformed her physical presence. Instead of the light, hesitant steps of a timid girl, she now planted her feet with a heavy, delibera