It was my first pair of stillettos. I was in my teens and living at my parents in a small village. I had worn them around the house and loved them indoors, but I desperatly wanted to go out in them. I love the feeling of going somewhere in heels.
I waited for a weekend when my folks and my brother were away. I slipped on my new 4 inch stiletto heeled, black leather, zip up, knee high boots. I wore them around the house all day with my tiny tiny little leather skirt. When I thought it was late enough so that everyone in the village was asleep, I went out.
I had changed into jeans, but slill had my gorgeous new boots on underneath. I walked right through the village to the other side and came back a different way, about 1mile walk. It was as much as I dared and as much as I could take, my legs were killing me.
The following day I was hanging out near the village shop with friends. One of the women from the village walked past, who we all thought was a bit crazy. She spotted me and asked strait out
"Have you got a sister"
I had to say no, coz I havn't. She said
"I thought not. So that was you then, late last night, walking past my house in high heels"
Some how, I laughed it off. We all laughed and jeered at her. She never spoke to any of us again, but she was right, and she knew it.
I'm sorry for the way we treated her that day and for weeks, maybe months after.
Looking back, if I had been caught and uncovered then, I could be in a very diferent place right now.
I might even be truly deeply happy!