Katherine Peterson perched on the chair in the plush office, her handbag pulled tight to her on her lap. Her skirt lay pleasingly above her knees and dark, nyloned legs, a fact not lost on Peter whose eyes slid over her body fleetingly before sitting down behind the large teak desk. Smiling at her, Peter reached into the desk drawer at his bottom right.

“We’re delighted you agreed to proceed with this Mrs Peterson-”

“Miss, actually.”

“Oh, of course, my apologies.”

Peter pulled on to his desk a rectangular box. Carefully he put it on the desk. “Do you have the disclaimer we sent through?”

Katherine reached into her handbag and pulled the thick wedge of papers from it and placed them on the desk. Peter, who looked not a day over thirty, peered through the papers carefully. Katherine looked around the office. The whole room had been dressed to match the dark wood of the desk. Thick velvet curtains in deep red lay across the bay windows, through which the hum of the Knightsbridge traffic could still be heard. To the left of the desk stood a bookcase. Opposite to that was another door leading to the back of the office. Katherine had come through a different door behind her. All in all it looked nothing like any other boutique in west London.

Peter nodded and signed the bottom of the last paper with a flourish.

“Thank you, t’s crossed and i’s dotted. Perfect.”

Katherine nodded and smiled, though it barely concealed her nerves.

Peter stood up once more. ” So let’s take a look at your purchase then.” He picked up the foot long box from the desk and walked over to Katherine, holding the box in front of her. The middle-aged woman tucked her ash blonde hair behind her ear and took the box. Carefully she undid the gold clasp on the front of the box and lifted the lid.

Katherine gasped.

Inside the silk-lined casket were her ‘purchase’. A pair of deep red leather stiletto heels. The smell of the leather mixed with the sight of them gleaming crisply in the artificial light of the office. Pausing for a second to see if she would even dare, Katherine traced her finger along the contours of the shoes. Peter took a few steps back to his desk, keeping his eyes on her. He always loved this moment.

Her fingers ran along the whole length of the shoe, they were everything she had dreamed they would be, everything Peter had promised. This was no ordinary boutique and these no ordinary heels.

“Beautiful aren’t they?”

Katherine looked up with a shock, the voice was not Peter’s but another woman. Standing by the other office door was a woman in her mid-forties dressed in a grey pencil skirt and grey matching halter-top. She wore dusky nylons and black stilettos, similar in style to Katherine’s new pair. Her hair was thick, black and curled down to her shoulders.

“Yes… yes they are.” Katherine replied to the woman, who was crossing the office, one foot carefully in front of the other.

“Miss Paterson, this is my Mother, Ginette,” said Peter who was now leaning back against the desk, his breathing slightly heavier. Katherine frowned, her mouth open to ask a question that she didn’t know how to raise. Ginette giggled.

“It’s the shoes, my dear, they make me look younger than I am… They should do the same for you too.” Ginette smiled. Katherine felt rooted to the chair. She couldn’t move, let alone take her eyes off the brunette whose hands had slid over her Son’s shoulders and kissed him on the cheek.

Katherine looked at the couple. “So they… they change you?”

“You and those around you,” replied Ginette. “Would you like me to show you?”

Nodding, Katherine tried her best not to return her gaze to her new shoes.

Ginette’s hand snaked down Peter’s body and reached the top of his trousers. Licking her lips, Ginette, began to open the belt on her Son’s trousers.

Katherine gasped.

Then her hand went over her mouth.

Peter moaned as his Mother’s hand pulled out his huge, thick penis from his trousers. The size was almost unreal. Ginette teased the near eleven inch dick in her hand, weighing it, as if showing Katherine its girth. Ginette squeezed and Peter mewed with pleasure.

As Ginette spoke, she massaged the cock with her hand, stimulating the blood, arousing him. “They used to say it was magic. Somehow the shoes worked wonders on those who wore them and those who they loved, especially those that they shouldn’t love… Though the truth is probably closer to pheromones that are released while making the shoe from the leather, they stimulate chemical centres in the brain and the body reacts. Magic is so much more… marketable.”

“Ohh…” Peter moaned as his Mother was now stroking his shaft, it pulsed pink and grew. Katherine didn’t know what to say. She should have left moments ago and yet she was fixated.

Ginette was now staring at her Son’s cock, but continued to talk to Katherine as if she was pupil to a teacher demonstrating for the class.

“Ever heard of Countess Maria Polovki? Fled Poland just before the occupation in 1939 with her son, Steven. Found herself in London while dodging bombs in the Blitz still managed to find time to shop. Her Son had directed her to our business, my Grandmother was in charge then… she brought three pairs of our finest court shoes… Well after that they left London and found a house in the Lake District. They invited my grandmother to stay for the weekend during the following spring. Are you alright there, dear?”

“F-fine,” said Katherine. Peter groaned appreciatively.

“So they invited her to the countryside. What she found was a veritable den of iniquity. The Countess was fucking her Son morning, noon and night, as well as the cook, scullery maid and head gardener. She told my grandmother she’d never been happier. I was told the famous orgies carried on well into the nineteen fifties… Anyway, the shoes you’re carrying now are named after her ‘Countess Marias’ a very beautiful woman who loved someone she shouldn’t…”

Katherine looked back at the red stilettos. So these shoes she was so drawn to were for a Countess. She felt a new kind of excitement stir within her.

“Ahhhh!” Peter exclaimed.

“My dear, Miss Peterson, I think you can leave us now, thank you.” Ginette was tugging on the shaft of her Son’s cock now with force.

Katherine shook herself from the trance and stood up holding the wooden box in front of her. “I… well, thank you.”

Ginette smiled back. “Enjoy, my dear. Hopefully we may see you soon…”

Katherine nodded and said thanks once more and clutching the wooden box walked back out of the office. As the door clicked behind her, she heard Peter’s barely contained shouts of orgasm as his beautiful, devilish Mother jerked the semen free from his cock. Katherine listened outside the door until he stopped moaning.

That evening Katherine took a taxi home. She didn’t feel like travelling on the tube with the box. How did it come to this? Stupidly expensive shoes, disclaimer forms pertaining to her future actions and mental wellbeing? Stories about incestual orgies in a country house?

It hadn’t always been this. Katherine Peterson had been vaguely normal once upon a time. Divorced three years ago she had divided her time between her accountancy job and her son Alex. Alex was twenty and spent a year travelling returning to his home lean and tanned. It had pleased his Mother, for in that time she had yearned for her Son. Before he had left Katherine had developed an attachment to her Son, she spied on his naked body, sometimes in the shower, sometimes while he slept. It had excited her deep within, the same feeling she had got when she looked at the shoes.

It was wrong. She knew that much, this ogling of her Son’s naked form. So when he announced he was going trekking to Thailand, Katherine encouraged him and paid for the flights. It was the best way to prevent her perverted spying. However, after a relatively few calm weeks, Katherine turned her attentions back to her forbidden desires and so she ventured on to the internet.

She read stories, she emailed some writers, she realised that there were many other women like her and yet it didn’t make her feel any better. Katherine became depressed. She missed her Son and ignored chancers from the internet, until one day she got the email from the boutique.

The email told her that the boutique only sought out the best match for their exclusive range of products. This was usually frustrated middle-aged women, or rather, Mothers. They claimed to be able to help with ’empty nest’ syndrome and their attire was guaranteed to improve a deeper bond between Mother and Son. The proposal was unusual to say the least, but Katherine reasoned shopping was better than valium.

Katherine had ventured to that office and Peter had measured her feet declaring that is was new shoes that she needed, especially since her Son was going to be returning from trekking. He then passed her the paperwork. She couldn’t believe what she read. It was the equivalent of signing a waiver against causing mental illness. But as she’d read Peter had told her quite clearly:

“Miss Peterson, if you want to be as close to your Son, closer than any Mother and Son should be… then you need these shoes. Trust me.”

So Katherine had taken the paperwork home, read it over and over and in the meantime Alex had returned. She remembered the look on his face as she’d opened the door, wrapping his arms around her as they embraced. And at that moment, Katherine knew she wanted to go through with the purchase.

The sun had just dipped below the horizon and the sky was beginning to burn red as Katherine paid for the taxi and entered her terraced house.

The first thing she noted was that the double lock was fastened. Good, Alex was out, she didn’t want him to be around if these shoes were as powerful as she thought. Rationality suddenly grabbed her: had she been conned? Had this ‘Mother and Son’ selling shoes played her for a fool, the vulnerable woman, a ridiculously lewd display to make it all seem real? No… that feeling she had had in the office was definitely real. She took a deep breath and closed her front door behind her.

Hurrying upstairs Katherine shrugged off her jacket and placed the casket on her bed. She stood there in a white blouse, her black skirt that ended just above the knee. She kicked off the black shoes she was wearing, a small heel by comparison with what lay in the box. Opening up the casket, Katherine looked at the shoes once more and she got the same tingle that she had experienced in the shop. Katherine moved quickly. She took each shoe out and placed them on the floor and then pulled over the chair from her dresser to face her full-length mirror. Sitting in the chair, Katherine shrugged her shoulders, it was now or never.

Katherine slipped her nyloned feet into the cool red leather of the stilettos. The effect was instantaneous. The Mother was jilted back into her chair and her hands gripped the sides of the seat. Though her feet were planted firmly on the ground, it felt like two snakes had slithered up from each of the shoes, had intertwined about her thighs and headed straight for her pussy. Without warning she felt her thighs instantly part. Her legs strained against her skirt and she quickly pulled the hem right up her thighs. Katherine’s legs spread wider. There was definitely something inside her, it had invaded her pussy and pulling back and forth against her vagina, rubbing against her clit, pounding inside. Moaning, Katherine finally managed to control her gaze and looked into the mirror. Her body was on fire, her lips were redder, her bosom heaving, her legs splayed apart, exposing her black panties. The panties irritated Katherine now, so unnecessary, she hooked them away from her body and stood up to wriggle them down her legs. She wanted to play with the wicked sensation inside her. Staring into the mirror, the Mother parted her pussy lips with her fingers and began to rub her clit in time with the sensation that she felt from the red stilettos. God, she wished Alex was there now. She wanted to expose herself fully to him, to let him know that her pussy was there to be fucked, to be entered and claimed. She pictured Alex just watching on the bed as her fingers teased and stroked every inch of her sex. Katherine moaned as she then imagined exposing herself to him in the shower, while he was sat at the kitchen table, walking into his bedroom and finger-fucking herself in front of him, one stilettoed foot on his bed, the other on the floor, pushing her pussy into his face as he lay there, forcing her fingers into his mouth to suck on her pussy juices.

Katherine screamed as she came, the orgasm engulfed her as she pushed her whole hand into her pussy, fucking it in the chair like her life depended on it. The cries echoed around her bedroom as she rocked back and forth on the chair. It took the Mother a few moments to realise she was shaking with the reverberations of pleasure. Her mouth opened up and her head dropped back. She let out a deep breath.

“Oh, Christ.”

Dinner, Katherine had decided would be when Alex would first see in her the new shoes, however she didn’t want to overpower the boy, or herself. Wearing a skirt could have aroused her too much and she might have done something inappropriate, though, of course, that was ultimately her intention.

Instead she settled on a tight pair of jeans that suited the red heels perfectly. She opted for a white sleeveless halter top and made sure her hair looked halfway fixed away from her face. Before leaving her bedroom, she admired herself in the mirror once more, hands on hips, cocking her backside, the denim really did its job.

The effect on Alex was plain to see. The young lad had let himself in from going for a swim and had got himself a diet coke as he heard the click-clack of his Mother walking down the stairs. She walked in the kitchen and he almost dropped the can.

“Wow, Mum, you look good!”

“Well thank you” Katherine smiled at him and busied herself with the fridge.

“Hope potato salad’s alright, I had a late appointment this afternoon so I didn’t get a chance to fix anything…”

Alex was staring at his Mother’s shapely peach of an ass moulded into those jeans as she bent over and rooted around. His eyes travelled up and down her legs and he noticed the red stilettos she was wearing. He felt his cock suddenly jump up at the sight of her body. This was new and unexpected for Alex, he had always admired his Mother’s good looks, but never to this extent, hadn’t he had enough fun overseas with girls his own age? But here was his Mother’s shapely, sexy body, crying out for him, his cock was thickening with each passing second, his fingers tensed around the coke can.

“Is potato salad, ok?”

Katherine was facing Alex, when the Son shook his head and then blurted out.

“Err, yes, sure, Mum, thanks.”

“Here you go,” Katherine put the bowl of salad in front of him, the halter top dropping slightly allowing Alex to catch a glimpse the lacy white bra that held her plentiful breasts up. Katherine caught the action of his eyes flicking across her chest and smiled. They both sat down to eat.

Alex’s cock refused to behave, all he could think about was how his Mother looked. Nervously he asked if her jeans were new.

“Oh, no, these are old. The shoes are new though.”

Alex nodded as calmly as he could, but as she mentioned the shoes his cock throbbed against his shorts. What was happening to him? What was this?!

The lad swallowed a few more mouthfuls of potato salad as quickly as he could. Katherine quizzed him about his swim and he answered shortly. It was clear he was uncomfortable, Katherine hoped it was for the right reasons.

Taking his plate to the counter, Alex faced the window, asking if he could clear up later. He daren’t turn towards his Mother for fear of the still growing almighty boner he had in his shorts poking out. Katherine told him that was fine. She watched as he hurried away, noticing the young man’s face was red. Alex’s feet pounded up the stairs and his bedroom door slammed shut. The Mother waited for a second dabbing her napkin at her red lips and then stood up. She smiled wickedly to herself.

Having slammed the door Alex fumbled with his shorts, his head and prick throbbing equally, thinking about his Mother’s peach of an ass and those incredible legs… He reached inbetween his flies and yanked out his cock.

Alex was shocked, he had never seen it that huge before, it was immense! Almost purple at the top and the vein’s defined as bulbous ridges along his smooth and tanned skin, his foreskin was already stretched over the head, eager and ready. His hand moved to the base of his prick and clenched it with his hand, there was nothing delicate in the manipulation of his penis now, he leaned back against his door, breathing heavily, he imagined fucking his Mother over the kitchen table. He should have ripped those jeans off her, yanked them down, pushed her over the table edge and thrust his cock into her gaping, wet cunt. Alex began to moan as he fucked his Mother in the kitchen.

On the other side of the door Katherine pushed her ear against the wood, her palms spread as she listened. He was masturbating, she was sure of that and no doubt thinking about her. A hand went down to her crotch and the Mother began to rub herself through the damp denim of the jeans. Then she knew.

“Oh fuck, Mum yes…”

Katherine heard Alex’s whisper from the other side of the door and she gasped. It was true, the shoes had worked! His cum was going to spill for her.

Alex was almost shaking as he grunted and his cum splattered all over the carpet beneath his feet.

“Yes, yes, yesss,” Katherine mouthed as she heard her Son climax. The Mother stared back down at the red stilettos and smiled once more. She decided that she had better walk quietly back to her bedroom.

In her mind, Katherine walked down the street in her red shoes. She strode boldly forward as men of all ages jacked off their cocks to the sight of her. She wore a matching red dress and black stockings that shone for all the guys who stroked their pricks. Their cum spilled into the street, splattering the pavement with glittering white, specks of which dripped and flecked on to her beautiful red stilettos.

Katherine strode forward to a new life, further down the street, her Son would be waiting for her.

Katherine looked at the clock by her bed… it was past one am. Sleep was eluding her, she couldn’t stop reflecting on the past few days. Following the new red stilettos being brought home, an event that had propelled her and her Son, Alex to explosive masturbatory sessions, she had done her best to calm the situation down. The shoes had stayed in their box in her bedroom, still powerful, an aura around the box… an aura she couldn’t help noticing each time she entered the room. She was well aware that if she put them on, an incredible climax wouldn’t be far behind. She didn’t dare rush things, the sexual excitement she had felt wearing them that first evening was still resonating through her body! Days later, it was intense as when she had worn them. The temptation to put them on was so strong that Katherine – not wanting to become an addict, had to keep on repeating to herself that too much of a good thing could be bad for her. Of course, she knew well from experience that shopping for shoes WAS the best way to cure a woman’s depression! But she hadnt been aware that wearing shoes really could become a drug.

In the meantime, Alex had been spending most of the past few days in his room. He would come down for meals, but during them he seemed somehow distant, seemingly in some other place. Katherine suspected why; she had heard his loud moaning whenever he was masturbating in his room! And it been happening night after night. It kept her awake, it made her feel weak between her legs. Each one of his moans making her feel more and more wet between her legs, making her… oh my god, making her touch herself between her legs. Every night, following the sounds from his room, Katherine would fight and lose a battle with herself. Each time allowing her hand to slide down, hesitantly start touching her pussy, only to end up moaning herself as her hand became insufficient and as she stopped to fish out her trusty dildo from the chest of drawers by her bed. It was realistically shaped, like a strong, young cock. She couldn’t understand why the word “young” always popped up when she took the dildo with her fingers, leading it to her neck, chin, lips, sucking on it like a woman possessed. Sliding the wet tip between her breasts and down to her pussy. No, not this evening. I cant. I shouldn’t. I need to figure out what to do!