Quite the longer story by kathrin-inaka about some very magical boots our main character finds during a construction site inspection. The nearly transparent boots in the beginning were quite comfortable and useful, as they protected the feet as well as steel toe-boots, but this changes when she wakes up the next morning after not being able to get out of them any more. The boots had changed quite a bit, as not only did they begin growing a heel, they got even tighter and started rising up her legs. Over the next week the boots grew more and more, encasing her further and further. The heels also got higher and smaller all the time, decreasing the contact-surface to the floor to a miniscule amount. All of this made daily life, and especially work, really difficult…

Sadly, there doesn't seem to have been a further part written, even thought the story doesn't really seem to be finished yet.

Yes, I wasn’t dressed appropriately. But it was summer. And not some old summer, but the mother of all summers. At least it felt like that on that day. So hot and humid, even the most slender girl would start melting the moment she stepped outside. And I’m not the most slender girl. I have all the right curves at all the right places, as they say.

So I had picked a dress that covered the least amount of skin possible without causing too much of a scandal. Like that I made it to the office without melting away. Or needing a shower. And it also made the anemic air conditioning in the office somewhat more tolerable.

If only my assistant hadn’t missed the construction site inspection. The contractor thought the previous architect didn’t get his math right and now there was water everywhere. So they looked for someone with more experience in water management and found me. But I wasn’t going to take the job before having a look at the problem with my own eyes.

The foreman didn’t mind my dress as long as I put a hardhat on. Personally he liked my dress, the way he looked at my body. But for safety a hardhat was enough. I wasn’t going to get anywhere near anything dangerous, but in underground construction there was always the risk of stuff hitting your head. Or you hitting your head on something.

He also liked my wedge heel sandals. Aesthetically. But not for safety. And also I wasn’t going to ruin them by sloshing through ankle deep muddy water. So I needed a pair of rubber boots.

I’m not only curvy, but also petite, so the only available pair was about five sizes too large, because it was meant for burly construction workers. Five sizes US or UK. Don’t ask me how much that was in European sizes. Too much, anyway.

With me unwilling to look ridiculous and the foreman unwilling to have me trip over my boots, we were at a loss. Until one of the workers muttered something about some boots. He wasn’t exactly clear in his speech, probably because he was too busy trying to hide his fascination for my body.

But the foreman made sense of his words and excused himself to go and dig around in the back of the storage container for a pair of women's rubber boots that they had found when they tore down some old structures left on the building site...

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Word count 22960
Reading time 2 hours, 8 minutes

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