Steampunk Boots Womens Novels & Stories

The tip glides over the top of my foot and two seconds later it's encased in a soft russet coloured mocasin boot.My eyes widen as I run my hand over the velvety material appreciatively.The action is repeated on my uninjured foot and I sit for a good minute just fondling my feet. "Will you sit there the entire day stroking your shoes? The Noir will be most pleased at how easy you've made their work."

"That's your work uniform?" Huxley leans against the door jamb staring wide-eyed as I zip up my tall black leather boots. They're my favorite and tonight I need the comfort of the old beloved boots I picked up at a Ross store three years ago. The leather footwear come nearly to my knee and you would think the tall black leather would be difficult to wear, but they're the opposite. These boots are the most comfortable shoes I own. I could walk all day in them. When you're a club promoter and work till three o'clock in the morning, comfort is an important feature.

"Definitely." I slipped into the dress. The skirt flowed, stopping just above mid-thigh. Bending in this dress would be near impossible. I grabbed another set of fishnet tights, this time for me, and then shoved my feet into my set of steel toed biker boots. "Punk rock princess," Heather voiced in approval, "suits you."

“Thank you for everything. I will be sure to get your clothes back to you in perfect condition.” “Speaking of clothes, you really don’t have to put those boots back on. I will be back in a second.” Wayne said as he got up and went in the direction of his bedroom. He returned a few minutes later holding a pair of black slippers. They were unisex and looked they were made of pure leather; it was hard not to admire them. “You should wear these,” Wayne said as he dropped them by her feet. “Wayne, you really don’t need to do this, I don’t mind wearing the boots.” Rose really did not want to stuff her feet back into those boots, but she was done with taking things from Wayne; he had already done s

She was quite beautiful in a severe sort of way. Her wavy, brown hair just touched the shoulders of her fashionably tailored suit jacket. The matching skirt, which hit just above the knee, was black with charcoal pinstripes. Her jacket was buttoned just high enough to reveal a hint of cleavage, and I caught a glimpse of a lacy orange camisole peeking out from beneath. But the thing that caught and held my attention were her boots. They were fashioned from shiny black leather and reached up each shapely leg nearly to her knee. "Odd footwear for alumni weekend," I thought, but I was transfixed by the sight of those boots nonetheless.

“The boots are covered in a fine-grained black sand of some sort with an unusual scent. I also find it in the prints. It’s not soot or ash of some type. I think it’s stone and the scent is distinctive.” “Show me.” Using a snapped twig he finds on the ground as a pointer, the recruit indicates what he’s talking about both in the prints and in smudges on the boots. My brows draw together. “The vamp that attacked at the Luna ceremony wore boots like that, with the same type smudges. And the night we found Kassandra in the forest, she was covered in some black silt that looked like ash. What’s stuck in the treads looks like it comes from stone though. We need Charlie.”

I muttered, standing before the giant mirror opposite my bed to rate my today's outfits. My smile faded when I realized I didn't have boots to wrestle the field. “What's it?”. Xandia noticed the heavy silence and asked. “Boots…..I forgot mine was stolen. “That isn't enough reason to be sad. I got you new ones…..”. She snapped her fingers and a guard walked in with five pairs of boots,two were black but different designs, while the remaining colours were red,white and pink. “Thank you,my princess. You really deserve the best”.

Rafe figured she'd expected a high-end store that stocked Tony Lama, Lucchese and Dan Post. But in this same strip center. he'd found a specialty shop where a woman he'd once spent time with, made boots that combined durability with style. Nita Harmon smiled when he walked in. The smile faltered a little when she saw Bree with him, but then her professional face fell smoothly into place. "We'll fit you with a real pair of Texas boots." Bree glanced from him to Nita and back again, instinctively reading the situation. But when Nita headed to the stock room in the back Rafe shook his head at her and mouthed the words, Past history.

he said in a husky nervous voice, "I see you're ready for me." The sexy blonde was in the centre of a device strewn room. She was standing though not fully upright. Isabelle was on tip toes, eight inch heeled boots the black rubber up to her thighs. The boots were so tight they seemed to mould to her perfect calves; her ankles visible in the tight material her thighs gripped firmly by the boot tops.

Lipstick long gone. She didn’t fix any of it. She just smiled at her own reflection. A slow, terrifying smile. Because she was coming back. Not because a man summoned her. Not because a room expected her. But because her grandmother had whispered to her bones: “A throne can’t be stolen. It must be claimed.” She went to her closet and pulled out a different pair of heels. Not her usual Domica boots. These were Madam’s. Red suede, six inches, worn only once.