She stood in her chrome kitchen her eyes transfixed on the black box perched on the shiny surface. It was loosely tied with fine silver chains and she licked her lips relishing the anticipation, wondering what he had left for her today. She was used to gifts of an extraordinary nature and they always held instructions for use, which she delighted in following.
Slipping her coat from her shoulders she walked slowly toward the box. Pulling on the chains they clinked repeatedly against the metal surface as they fell freeing the lid for her to open slowly, her eyes already glazed as they fell upon what looked like yards of black rubber. The smell hit her first sending the very best kind of memories directly to her cerebral cortex tormenting her mind. She resisted the urge to touch it for a second longer than she intended to which turned into several seconds before her fingers respectfully walked their way over the glossy latex.
Reaching into the box a slow smile spread across her face as she realised that the rubber took the form of two extremely long tubes with the most evil spikes on the end. She laughed. Boots! The most amazing pair of black rubber, two-inch platform, eight inch spike, come-fuck-me-now fucking thigh boots! Oh he was good. He was very good. She hardly needed to read the note lying in the bottom of the box to know what he wanted her to do next.
"I want to see my boots displayed properly. You know what I mean. I want them on and I want you wet. I'll be home in thirty minutes. Don't disappoint me."
She felt a familiar thrill shooting straight from the words on the page to her cunt which was already as slick as she knew he wanted it and she could hardly keep the cat licked grin from her face as she went about her shower, hair and make-up ritual. Forcing her body into her molded rubber corset dress she admired her - now twenty inch - waist and the curve of her tits as she moved in front of the mirror, the light causing pleasing reflections over her arse which the rubber barely covered. The thought of wearing knickers didn't even cross her mind.
'Boots boots oh you lovely boots' she sing-songed quietly as she ritualistically pulled the second skin over her ankles, calves and thighs; smoothing then polishing first one, then the other then standing very still while she adjusted to the new height and posture that they gave her. She repeated the ritual with her long rubber gloves, snapping them against her arms and wiggling her fingers until the gloves became her skin then turned.
One wall of the bedroom consisted entirely of mirrors, which she strutted in front of for several minutes, relishing the squeak of rubber as her thighs rubbed together then posed. Yes. I think I'll do, she thought to herself as she allowed a delicious smile to spread and applied another coat of burgundy lipstick.
Hearing his key in the lock she walked to the living room and stood, hands on hips, waiting for his inspection. He didn't speak for a moment as his eyes roamed from the spike heel and gradually up her legs then looked her in the eye.
"Good girl." He nodded slowly, barely concealing his smile of relish. These were the only words she needed to hear, that along with the appreciative glaze in his eyes as he signaled for her to turn around, which she did slowly and evocatively, perfectly displaying the curve of her calves and thighs which flickered with the candlelight as she confidently stepped around.