Caught between a rock and a high heel 10

For the second day in a row, Kieron steeled himself as he approached Tom Watkins' office, his heart pounding with anticipation. As he pushed open the heavy frosted glass door, he found the older man sitting behind his desk, a sly grin spreading across his face. "Come in and take a seat, my dear," Tom boomed, throwing up his arm in a grand gesture, beckoning Kieron over to the sofa.

Kieron's knees trembled as he stepped forward, his pantyhosed feet slipping inside the shoes that had been bestowed upon him the previous day. Every mincing step was a struggle, as his feet screamed in protest after a day spent in heels that were too tall for a novice like him. He had tried to convince Becca that morning that a pair of flat shoes would be necessary given his level of discomfort, but she quickly shut down that idea, insisting that if he was going to commit to the plan, he was going to do it properly.

"I've told you before, Kiera," Tom barked, his tone stern. "Call me Tom, Mr Watkins is my father."

"Oh, yes, sorry, Tom," Kieron stammered, forcing a smile as he finally reached the sofa. Running his hand over his backside to smooth out his tight shorts, just as Becca had shown him, Kieron lowered himself down with a sigh of relief, his sore feet finally finding respite.

"You sound tired, Kiera," Tom observed, picking up on the noise. "I'm not working you too hard, am I?" he added with a chuckle.

"Err...No," Kieron replied quickly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm fine. It's just that those shoes you gave me are like, really tiring."

The older man's gaze lingered hungrily on Kieron's nylon-clad legs, sending shivers down the Irish man's spine. As Tom's gaze reached his feet, a sly smile spread across his face. "The price of high fashion, I suppose," he chuckled darkly. "But I must say, they look ravishing on you. I eagerly anticipate reading the resulting article."

Kieron blushed, feeling embarrassed by the comment. He was usually a confident person, but lately, something as simple as wearing different clothes had drastically altered his outward personality.

"In any case," Tom announced, sensing Kieron's unease. "I've been considering what you said about not having a defined role here. From now on, you'll be working with Alain." Kieron's darkly lined eyes widened in surprise as Tom continued. "Alain is one of our finest writers. I send him to all sorts of dull events, and he always manages to bring a unique spin to them to increase online views. But don't tell him I said that. I like to keep my employees on their toes."

‘Yeah, quite literally,’ Kieron thought, his mind racing as he glanced down at his throbbing foot, encased in its towering platform shoe. He squeezed his legs together, feeling discomfort in his manhood.

"In any case," Tom declared, his voice booming as he ignored Kieron's mounting unease. "I am convinced that the two of you are a match made in heaven. Together, You will embark on a journey of discovery, exploring the very realms where the ladies who adorn themselves in the garments you shall critique, reside." He proclaimed with enthusiasm, his eyes blind to Kieron's visible discomfort as the crossdressed Irish man swallowed hard and shifted uneasily on the sofa opposite him.

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With a swift press of a button, the suited man connected with his Secretary. "Gina," he boomed, "is Alain here? Has he arrived at the appointed hour?" "Yes, sir," came the reply, a hint of excitement in her voice. "He's just arrived, as punctual as ever."

Tom's smile broadened as he heard the news. "Send him in," he commanded. As he hung up the phone, his gaze fixed upon the door, and Kieron followed suit.

Silence filled the room as the door swung open, and a flamboyantly dressed man stepped confidently through. Striding towards Tom, who stood to greet him, Alain firmly shook his boss's hand as they greeted each other. The pleasantries were brief, as Tom's attention was drawn to the nervous figure sitting on the sofa. "Alain," he said, "this is Kiera, the girl I spoke to you about. The two of you will make a winning team, mark my words."

As Alain turned, Kieron summoned all his strength to rise, his fatigued legs trembling as they adjusted once again to the towering heels that encased his aching feet. Alain advanced closer, dangerously close for Kieron's liking, before leaning in to bestow two kisses upon the flustered man's cheeks. "Bonjour, Kiera," Alain said with a suave smile, "It's an honour to finally meet you. Tom speaks very highly of you." Overwhelmed, Kieron stammered a thank you and forced a little smile.

"All true," Tom chimed in, taking a seat. "I've been thoroughly impressed with how she has conducted herself so far. And her writing style is truly one of a kind."

"Yes, I read the review you sent me," Alain said as he sat down, his gaze fixed on Kieron, a smile playing on his lips. "Sarcastic yet playful, a truly enjoyable read."

"Indeed," Tom exclaimed. "I want you to take her along with you to the book signing tomorrow evening. Though it may not be the most exhilarating event, I trust the two of you can come up with an angle to draw in the crowd."

"Of course," Alain said, his smile growing. "There is always an angle."

"Excellent!" Tom bellowed, reaching under his desk with a flourish and revealing a large rectangular box. He slammed it onto the desk, locking eyes with Kieron, who gasped. "You will wear this, my dear," he declared, his voice booming. "It will complement those shoes to perfection."

Kieron's heart raced as he gazed upon the box, unable to move or utter a word. He couldn't even begin to imagine what lay within the ominous, white container.

"Rise, my fellow warriors," Tom bellowed, standing tall and powerful as he signalled the end of their meeting. "Take the rest of this day to become familiar with each other, for tomorrow we march into battle. And Kiera, speak with Gina on your way out. I have arranged for you to visit a salon downtown. There, they shall adorn you with the finest of armour, ensuring that you are at your most radiant for the impending war."

With lightning speed, Alain leapt to his feet and expressed his gratitude to his superior for a highly productive meeting. Kieron, on the other hand, was far less enthusiastic. Having been mesmerized by the mysterious box, he slowly lifted his gaze to meet Tom's eyes, questioning the sanity of the man before him.

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As Kieron stepped out of the taxi that evening, his mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The day had been an endless cycle of discomfort and embarrassment as he struggled to keep up with Alain as he went about doing seemingly nothing.

The fancy restaurant where they had a two-hour lunch with Alain's friends had been a nightmare of awkward chit-chat and expensive wine, and the hours that followed had been a never-ending march of pain and humiliation as Kieron was forced to hobble through the city streets struggling in vain to match Alain brisk stride. Pain and discomfort had been his constant companions throughout the day. With every step he took, the stabbing pain in his legs intensified, pulsating from his aching buttocks to his throbbing ankles. He couldn't remember ever feeling so uncomfortable in his life.

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As Kieron trudged across the busy road towards Becca's apartment, his mind was heavy with the weight of the day's events. The thought of the debrief he would have to give her when he arrived filled him with dread. Everything in his life felt like a never-ending nightmare, and it seemed like it would only get worse. The next day, he would be forced to wear a flowing dress that Tom had given him and attend a book signing alongside Alain, but that was just the tip of the iceberg. The weekend beyond held even more stress and anxiety with a hair salon appointment scheduled for Saturday morning. He had no idea what to expect and couldn't even begin to imagine how he would explain why he was wearing a wig!