One of My favorite pastimes, when I am not busy masturbating, of course, is creating G-rated pornography. Hmm, G-rated pornography? Yes, exactly. According to the dictionary, a traditional definition of pornography is: “Written, printed or video material that contains sexually explicit images or content that some people find to be arousing.” The term that I reject very specifically, is “sexually explicit”. Society defines pornography as having to be sexually explicit, in order to demonize it to sexual prudes, and also to specifically steer the Unwashed Masses of citizen-slaves towards specific body part sexual obsessions, such as breasts and ass*s. In creating such a sexual censensus, it is much easier for leaders of society to direct and control the mind focus of the majority.
A much more valid, Truth-based definition of pornography would be: “Written, printed, or video material that an individual finds sexually arousing and stimulating.” There is no logical reason anything should be judged pornographic because it shows any specific body part, or any specific sexual act, because all pornography is in the eye of the beholder. If something does not sexually arouse Me, it is not pornographic to Me. If something does sexually arouse Me, it is pornographic to Me. This is how pornography must be understood and defined, in order to undermine the societal effort to control and manipulate our sexual orientations and focuses.
I am both a creator and a consumer, of G-rated pornography. The reason why, is because I find female foot pain to be the ultimate in sexual eroticism. In future blog posts I may go into detail as to the origins and nature of this rather rare fetish, but this is just intended as a brief and lighthearted introduction to the topic. So, I have a sexual fetish for female foot pain. This fetish involves no sexual organs, no nudity of any kind, beyond the female foot, and no type of sexual activity or contact. As such, it is a G-rated sexual fetish, and because My mind is very creative and drawn to vivid imagery, this G-rated fetish inspires Me to create G-rated pornography.
As far as personal creations, My G-rated pornography is in written form. The images and videos which inspire My pornographic writings, are created by others, and merely found by Me. Or personally viewed by Me via public situations. The wonderful thing about a G-rated sexual fetish like female foot pain, is that there are plenty of real-life, as well as photographic and video images available, in which the participants have absolutely no idea that they are getting, or could possibly get, anyone sexually excited by what they are doing.
An obvious example would be the woman hobbling home from work, her inflamed bunions throbbing, who winces in pain as she leans against a light pole and eases off a high heeled pump to relieve her distress. <By the way, there it is: G-Rated pornography! So anyway, there are great advantages to having a rare and G-rated sexual fetish such as this, because you can find the most erotic imagery imaginable, right out in public, with the “target” of your erotic obsession completely unaware that anyone who might be observing her, could possible be sexually aroused by what she is doing. Sweet! 🙂
I have written thousands of G-rated pornographic texts, to thousands of different photos, videos, and even stories, adding on to existing stories created by others with the same fetish. These texts range anywhere from 20 words to 10,000 words, and as such I reckon I am the premier female foot pain novelist in the world.
Just for fun, and those of you who might still be confused as to what a female foot pain fetish is, and what constitutes G-Rated pornography, I offer one of My thousands of images and texts:
Elke could think of nothing but the throbbing of her poor feet, as she stood, waiting for the train to arrive. What a horrible day! It had been years since she had worn high heels, she could still remember that day, six years ago, when she realized her feet had gotten so deformed that every high heeled shoe had turned into a torture chamber. She had thrown 16 pairs of high heeled shoes into the garbage that day, silently sobbing, but knowing that keeping them in her closet, they would only mock her, each day, whenever she saw them. Only one pair she had kept, because you never knew when an emergency situation requiring high heels might arise.
For six years they had sat inside her closet. Until today. Elke thought back to the morning, and her decision to wear them. Husband Mike had left 6 weeks ago, leaving only a note: “Good luck Elks, I just need a change…” And would you believe, the social security office said she did not qualify for disability. “You’re not crippled, you can walk. If you can walk, you can work”, those had been the exact words of the office supervisor, after reading the report of the podiatrist.
And so, money running out, Elke had to find a job. Dress to impress, that’s what the magazine had said. How could I have been so stupid, Elke mentally cursed herself. Hours of hobbling from one job interview to the other, her face a rigid mask of pain, trying to smile as she entered the human resource offices.
And now it was over. Shocks of pain pulsated through her feet. She could feel her heartbeat in her severe bunions, each beat a shock, like being stabbed. Elke blinked back tears. Every visible seat on the train platform taken. Maybe there was another bench at the other end of the platform, but she could not see. The thought of hobbling that far, only to be disappointed, was more than she could bear.
Self-consciousness took a backseat to unbearable pain, as Elke shifted her weight from one agonized foot to the other. Torture chambers, torturing me, was all Elke could think, as she bit her trembling lip and contemplated her plight. The right foot demanded relief, as Elke carefully scrunched her toes forward, allowing her heel to escape from the pump. As she expected, the moment of release was the most painful of all, and she could not suppress a deep groan, raising her naked, crippled foot and trying to hide it behind her other foot.
There you go, G-rated porn for the foot pain fetishist, created for and written by, Me.
© Copyright 2014-2064 The Seer of Forbidden Truth. All Rights Reserved.
I love all the women bunion stories.I love Elke.I love her even if all her toes are amputated/
I just stumbled into your blog. Like you, the sight of a woman getting relief from her suffering feet throws me into the throes of ecstasy. Mine is very specific. The woman must be in very high heels (preferably stiletto type), closed heel and toe–peep-toe is OK–and no platforms. Nylons highly preferred as well as a dress. Standing–not sitting. Padding around shoeless means the game is already over. I used to frequent many of the old Playboy Clubs, and there I witnessed countless suffering Bunnies–most of them in excruciating agony toward the end of their shift. I talked with many of them about their problem, but made certain that I didn’t come across as a “weird-o”. I also get a high writing about my experiences, so if you’d like to exchange stories, I’m all in. I also used to be a stalker of women suffering from their high heels–nightclubs (patrons and cocktail waitresses), cosmetic and jewelry counters in upscale malls, shoppers, airports (I’m a retired airline pilot with over 24 years in the industry–that got me lots of foot massages to Flight Attendants on our way to our overnight hotel.) etc. but where I now live you’d starve to death if you had to find a woman working or playing wearing nylons and heels. My only chance of being rewarded is my yearly trip to the PGA Merchandise Show in Orlando (coming next month). I’d love to see some of those 1000s of pix that you have acquired. Perhaps you’d trade some of those for my true stories (I’ve also done some devilishly nasty fictional stories where my poor damsels experience hellacious foot agony.) and experiences. Like you, I have thousands of vivid intact memories dating back decades. For me, as far back as the very late 50s. Teachers, women in malls–you name it. And I often go back to these observations for erotic memories. I hope that your email is still an active one, and that you will get back to me sometime soon.
Sincerely
airbusart
Nice to run across another Female Foot Pain Fetishist. We are quite the rare bunch. I share your preferences, but I think I’m a little more open to a wider variety of scenarios.
Love the Playboy Bunny scenario, love all situations in which a gal is “forced” to wear high heels while standing/walking for long periods of time. It’s true for many auto show and electronic show conventions, as well as “umbrella girls” who work the racing events.
I’m sure you’ve seen the old movie “A Bunny’s Tale”, a few excellent, although very brief foot pain scenes, one in particular, where she eases off her bunny pumps after a long shift, rolling her eyes and wincing in pain, drives me wild. If you haven’t seen that movie, it’s a must-see. 🙂
I’m very busy with a lot of different things, so my time is limited. Give me a few days and I’ll check my email, and perhaps be able to direct you to a few places where our fetish is shared. Although you probably know about them already…
Flight attendant foot pain drives me wild, the overall uniform adds to my erotic excitement, but the mandatory, uncomfortable footwear is the real thrill.
Trade shows are an awesome place for female foot pain views and encounters. Any kind of trade show. I’ve been to auto, electronics, real estate, boat/yacht, medical conventions, and many more…
You go back longer than me, but not by too much. I’m sure I’ve read some of your stories in various online nooks and crannies over the past 20 year or so that I’ve been online.
Give me some time and I’ll check my email and probably get back to you.
Thanks for making contact!
That is me women fidigiting in high heels that are killing them. Please send me some pics. Are your many stories in one place?
That is me women fidigiting in high heels that are killing them. Please send me some pics. Are your many stories in one place?
I wish I had pix. What I have are real-life stories from decades past, flight attendant woes, cocktail servers dying in their pumps, Playboy Bunnies in agony, mall sales ladies from high end jewelry stores and cosmetics counters, etc. etc. I have also composed some stories where my poor damsels suffer wicked periods of unending suffering from hour upon hour of extended time on their feet with never a time for relief of more than a few precious seconds at a time–all the while having to be professional and stoic through their throes of agony. I’d be more than happy to barter stories for pix of women taking relief from tight, high stiletto pumps that are killing their poor feet. Let me know if you are interested, and also if you are aware of any sources for pix or vids like this. Clips4Sale has some content, but the posters are always the same and only post once a week or so. If you don’t like what they have then, you just have to wait till later. Moreover, many of the owners of these sites seem to think that playing with flip flops or ballerinas constitutes “dipping” or “shoeplay”! Not in my book.
Thanks for checking in with me. I hope we can converse lots more often, and have a mutually beneficial relationship.
Art
PS–My stories usually run several pages, and in no way involve (or am I interested in) domination, foot slavery, etc.
There is a time was 7 and next store neighbor came over after work and was chatting with my mom and when my mom was talking she leaned on the doornob and both her feet one at a time came out of her 3 inch high heeels and her hot tired pantyhosed feet landed on top of her shoes. Couldn’t take my eyes off her feet,
Within a minute she let everyone know and said “my feet are killing”.. those poor feet still had at least 50 steps til she got to really feel relief.
My feet are killing me is my favorite thing to hear from a woman in high heels. I want to hear a story the real deal with a bunch and a waitress.
So many aching feet we have seen.
You are 3 inch heels at least standing panty hose skirt. Watching jewelery saleswoman back in the 90s.
Pumps the counters you could see from the benches but you could see their feet hurting trying to get out of.
My favorite day years ago used to the Friday after Thanksgiving.
I am so excited to chat with someone who enjoys exactly what I do. Just search “high heels hurting” on You Tube and you will be in a happy place. Candid Dipping is another good search. Please share some from most painful feet . I love seeing women at trade shows. Hard floors mmm
I added a couple of responses, I was wondering if you could share a story or 2
OK–I have time for a quick one before we go out to dinner. It was in the late 70s. I was a Flight Engineer for Braniff Airways, living in the Dallas, TX area. They had a Playboy Club there, and there were many, many great sightings. I’ll relate one tale for you here. It was closing time–either 1 or 2 in the morning, I don’t remember which. As I was leaving the club, the Merchandise Bunny was talking with one of the regular cocktail Bunnies, and I had just barely passed them. The Merchandise Bunny said to the cocktail Bunny, “Whew! In two minutes these shoes are going to fall off my feet and my world will be better!” The other Bunny commiserated with her and said, “I know what you mean. My feet are killing me, too.” Well, I couldn’t leave it at that. Back then, Key members received one free magazine a month, and I hadn’t cashed mine yet. So, I doubled back and asked the Merchandise Bunny for my magazine. This girl could not have been much more beautiful, and she had fabulous legs. She was also wearing a pair of baby blue (to match her outfit) 4″ stiletto pumps. I could see why her feet were crying! It took her all of fifteen seconds to get my magazine, then she was back at the counter. According to her 2 minute timeline, her shoes were coming off very soon. Now that I’m older, I would have made some comment about how her feet must have been dying or something like that, perhaps “I hope I’m wrong but those shoes must be killing your feet!” Maybe even commented that by then, the club was technically closed and I bet that you girls are going to be glad to get your shoes off your feet. But, I was shy back then and I said nothing. But, at least I did see that she had absolutely killer shoes–tight as a drum on her swollen feet–and legs to die for. I just know that seconds later that woman popped off her shoes to sighs of relief. After all, she had been there at her post for probably an 8 hour shift, less any time for breaks. How those feet had to ache. I could see why she made that comment to her co-worker!
All for now. I can do more later.
Art
Please more! Great description! What a great place to hang at. You were lucky! Those Bunnies must of been in Agony !! Please more! Thank you for your stories memories and time. I was at a business trade show ast month . It was around 2pm when I saw this 25 old ish woman working a 30 by 30 booth by her self in 4 inch pointy toed heels. It was the end of the aisle this in Dallas Convention Center big Hall. I was seeing only 1 customer left and then she will think she can sit and get off her shoes. All of a sudden customer was using reality game mask so she thought no one was looking sheneaned on the counter and one ft came of her heel. She was staring at her pantyhosed foot wigggiling her aching foot. I knew she was in agony. I stood off to the side waiting for this guy to leave.. as soon as he left are poor girl sat in the chair and streched out her legs looking at hehigh heeled feet she sddenly realized I was there and was on her feet. I said rest your feet. She said no she was fine and so I played along knowing she was hurting. That’s amazing ! Standing since 9!
Well she admitted that it s been busy. Yes that is why your feet hurt so u should take off your shoes when it’s not busy. I could see her thinking , I said you don’t have to do it right in the middle of the booth behind those chairs.. She was behind those chairs and one high heel on it side empty and her white pantyhosed foot was being rubbed by the carpet. The Hey I meant and she said both shoe and I said yes her shoes were emty her feet were going wild in the carpet and she was moaning in relief and then thanked me.. I said no problem and could see her eyes were still realizing the relief that her shoes were off. Those tired aching feet still had 3 hours and a long trek to her car.
Great story–Yes, l’d love to keep trading stories. I loved yours. I find it interesting that I have zero sadistic tendencies except for women’s aching feet. I loved where you sort of “stole” some relief from that woman suffering from her heels. She had just sat down and probably thought “Whew, maybe I can rest my feet a few minutes”. Then, BAM–there you are and she’s on her feet again. Ouch. I have had a lot of experience in that vein. Back in the mid-70s I was an Air Force pilot, stationed at March AFB, CA, about an hour’s drive from the L A Playboy Club. One Bunny (and I have four or five more stories of her, BTW) that I had conversed with on several other visits to the club was one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen (you can only be so pretty, then you’re tied with several thousand others). She was petite–maybe 5′ 5″ tall in her (always!) 4″ stilettos with narrow toebox. Always killer pumps on this beauty. She had legs so well-shaped you couldn’t possibly improve them. She had a tendency to sit on this little shelf behind the service bar area when she wasn’t too busy. The layout was perfect for me. Where she sat and where I liked to sit were very close together–maybe 5′ at the most. Many times I had seen her sit down and take the pointy tip of her toe and place it at the back of the heel of her other foot, then gently push the shoe maybe a half inch or so down her foot, but stop just before the heel of her foot popped free. Then, she’d switch positions with her feet and shove the other shoe down to just shy of slipping off and dangling. This was a new move I hadn’t seen before, but I immediately realized that she was giving herself a small (very small) piece of relief! Her smashed toes now had an extra half inch or so of room, as the toe box of her shoes narrowed extremely quickly, so now her toes occupied a wider part of the shoe. Now, to the point. On the evening in question this lady was wearing her cherry red Bunny outfit, with matching 4″ (minimum) patent leather, super-pointy stilettos. I mean the point of the shoe narrowed fast (as an aside, for me personally, I don’t find the shoes that take forever to reach the point to be a really pointy-toed shoe, as the woman’s toes are far too short to be affected by the point. But the point of this Bunny’s shoes DEFINITELY affected her toes! They were squished!). It had been busy that night (I’d been there several hours already–drinking my plain ginger ale, as I don’t care for the taste of alcohol.), but finally around midnight, it was calming down a little. This Bunny came over to sit on that shelf, and this time she pushed her right shoe all the way off of her foot, and the shoe crashed right in front of me. She let out a small groan or sigh of relief as the shoe fell off. It was obvious that these shoes were tormenting her poor feet. I knew that she did it on purpose–probably hoping for three or four minutes (or more, if she was lucky!) of relief. I saw her quickly scrunch her tired toes a couple of times–finally free from the tight shoe! Here, I did something way out of character for me. I immediately picked up her shoe (it was only a couple of feet from my table), and I said to her something to the effect of oh, ha, ha, your shoe fell off, etc. then I said “Would you like me to put your shoe back on for you?” Of course, I knew that was one of the last things that she wanted. She desperately wanted that shoe off, and she had made a conscious decision to slip it off and get some much desired relief. You could see her face light up like a Christmas tree the instant her shoe fell off (my eyes must dart around like lasers because I like to see the woman’s face the instant the shoe pops off, but also the foot’s wild gyrations in freedom. I guess my first look is at the face, as the look of freedom is fleeting, then I go to the feet.), and I was on that shoe in seconds–three or four at the most. She answered, “Yes, please.” After I slid her shoe onto her foot (my only opportunity in my life–before or after this time–to do that!), I pretended to just have the thought occur to me that maybe she took the shoe off deliberately! After I put her shoe back on, I said something like, oh,wait, did you take your shoe off because it was bothering you? I’m so sorry. She said, yes, her shoes were killing her, but she wasn’t supposed to be going around with her shoes off anyway, so it didn’t matter. One thing I have ALWAYS been afraid of doing is overly talking about a woman’s aching feet. The last thing I want to happen is to be thought of as some kind of pervert. But, in this case, the woman left me a small window of opportunity. I asked her if it was harder on her feet if the club was busy or slow. I posited that when she was running her butt off, perhaps she was so extremely busy that she didn’t have time to think about her feet, but when it was slow, thoughts of her aching feet were constantly on her mind. She was quick to reply that when she was busy, she never got a second to relax, and her feet killed relentlessly! So, for her at least, she said the busy times were agony! That’s all I dared talk to her about her feet, so I changed subjects. She actually had another four or five minutes before she hopped down from the ledge and went back out on the floor. So, I basically “stole” four or five minutes of relief for that poor Bunny (I’ll never forget her name–Eloise. Or so it said on her name tag.). An hour or so later, no too long before closing time) I saw her approach the service bar on another order and she immediately popped off her left shoe and wiggled and stretched her toes as she called in her order. She never put her foot on the floor, and as soon as she finished her order, she put her shoe back on and did some bar duties while the bartender did her order. I didn’t see her take her shoe off the next couple of times at the bar, and as it was getting late, I left for the night. I have many L A Playboy Club stories–several more about Eloise–that I can trade for other stories of women suffering in high stilettos.
I hope you liked this one. By the way, all of my recounts are true and unembellished. I’ve been around long enough and seen enough that I just don’t need to make stuff up.
Art
great memory! Yes I concur on pointy toe shoes. My accounts are also real and I believe yours are.
I’m the same on pain, only women in what u and I agree are high heels in agony. I remember back in the 90’s
I used to go-to 4 or 5 malls on the Friday after Thanksgiving. Galleria, North Park were the 2 best Sales woman in Agony everywhere. The smaller stores managers leaning slippng off heels. I used to take some who I knew were hurting around pretending I’m looking for something. After 5 minutes or so I might ask if her feet hurt. Jewelery stores looking for jewelery as u watch an aching foot come out of 4 inch high heels for moving enjoying it’s freedom not know she is being watch. Cosmetics is best for those poor women no counter to hide behind.
I was in the Air Force from 1978-1987. Got to see the world, like u in some ways Thailand and Phillipines ,Japan. Lived in Germany for 2 years Ramstien. 2 long years at KI Sawyer bad climate for high heels 9 months a year. Ended with 4 years at Dyess finally High heels!
In Michigan ai was so short on high heels to view, I saw on Jerry Lewis Telethon, this would be on Sunday afternoon. The lady hostng was a news anchor and she was wearing high heels with hose and she was definitely shifting her weight often . Then she walked behind a ike arail maybe a foot highI She was still taking but then the man cohst said something camera switched to him for a second and then right back to her . She was in the middle of stepping out of her shoes. They hurt so much. The next year I was prepared and have a tale to tell. I got to run now. It amazes me that we are to the point in each area of woman suffering and the joy of seeing them get relief. Thanks again for your memories and time
I have lots of mall stories both customers So many woman shopping after work with their feet killing them.
Too many to think about. Looking forward to your next memory.
Hi Pete–Malls used to be a great source for me, too. I’ll recount an instance (I was going to do two, but the one took over an hour to recount!) to you from way back in the early 60s. The incredible thing to me is that I can recall all of these events clearly, and the objects of my intense fascination are now in their 80s! OK–one of my very first mall sightings. I was on vacation with my mom and younger brother in central Nebraska (my dad had to work back home in CA) where my mom had grown up. We had gone to a big mall in Lincoln with one of my aunts. I was only 14 (I remember because it was just before my first year of high school), and the year was 1960. My family was off doing “stuff” that I didn’t want to do, so we made a time and place to meet later. About an hour into my wandering, I saw this very attractive young lady–maybe mid 20s–gliding around one of the stores in a sleek pair of cream colored, very high heeled stiletto pumps with a nasty looking pointed toe. She had a knee length dress, and tan colored nylons–reinforced heel, I discovered shortly! I knew that those shoes would be killing her feet–if they weren’t already. It was probably two in the afternoon, and you could tell from the amount of packages that she was carrying that she’d been there for a while. ASIDE: Have you noticed that, more often than not, a lady’s response to her aching feet follow a progression? First, just a mere heel pop with the foot mostly inside the shoe, progressing to a full release where she can stretch her toes, the first few times, perhaps, with just the one foot causing the most trouble, but eventually encompassing both feet, to maybe putting the toes on the ground and giving them a scrunch, to the ball of the foot fully down to a complete stand down on the cool tile to spread to bones as much as possible. I have, and it’s almost universal from what I have seen. Anyway, I mention that because that is exactly what this lady did that day. The first couple of stores I observed this lady she had no release of her feet, but she did show signs of problems (weight shifting, heel dancing, etc.). Pretty soon, a foot popped free. Now we’re getting somewhere! She did the usual toe spread and stretch, first with just one foot. The next stop, she got both feet a little relief, but only one at a time. After about the third or fourth store, she went to an area at the back of the store. Apparently, for what she wanted, the clerk had to check on something in the back room. This is where I struck paydirt. By now, the woman’s feet were killing her! As soon as the clerk went behind the counter to check for her, she immediately popped her right shoe completely off and hammered her stockinged foot flat on the floor–toes flying madly. Oh, the relief! Her first stand down of the day. She stood there like that (the other foot had to grin and bear it) until the sales lady returned. The lady tried to put her shoe back on without looking, but couldn’t quite get the orientation right, eventually knocking over the shoe. She had to visually look down to get her bearings, and she quickly got the shoe on again. At this point, I knew the lady’s feet had endured just about all she could stand, but what could she do? After finishing at that store, she made her way to her next stop. ASIDE #2: I love it when the woman’s feet are absolutely killing her, but she keeps a stiff upper lip, grins and bears it, and still walks with strong, powerful strides; no one would suspect that she was in any distress whatsoever. Hobble steps are somewhat unbecoming–although if the lady gives in to just a couple of those steps and then recovers her normal stride, that can be powerfully sexy! On with the tale. . .Her strides were strong and powerful, just as I like. She needed to go down an escalator to get to her next destination, and the second that she hit the escalator she took off one of her shoes–full off, toes wiggling. She gave herself only a few seconds of relief, then she put her foot back inside the shoe and took off the other one. The feet are definitely killing her now! The next store she entered was a hosiery shop. I wasn’t going in there! But, when she was checking out, I noticed that as soon as she stopped at the checkout counter, she stepped down with one foot and placed it on the cold tile. After maybe a minute of relief, she put the shoe on and stood down with the other shoe! This woman is in agony, now. After leaving that shop, I followed her as she made her way down the corridor, still striding along effortlessly. I fully expected a stop in another store. Instead, she made a sharp turn into the ladies restroom. I had nowhere to go, so I waited. Five minutes later, she emerged, packages in her arms–and white flats on her feet!! UGH–game over. Oh, well. I had observed this woman for a little more than an hour, I guess. I really was disappointed, as I was sure that there was much more powerful stuff from her, but I really couldn’t blame her. She was suffering!
I know this took a long time. I apologize, but I like to include as much detail as I can in these postings. I do that because that’s what I like when I read someone else’s posts. The “good stuff” is in the details. I hope that you may have sort of felt that you were there with her when you read this. All for now.
Art
We must of been writing our memories at the same time. Love the way u describe and write.That woman the 1960’s just could not make it. Did u have memories of being with family members, their feet hurting and knowing you would get to see the moment of relief when you got home.
I grew up in Queens NY and my Aunt came by a few times to go shopping and she would say I can’t take another step. So we had to go ahead and open the door so Aunt could get her shoes off.
Yes to your aside about progression of relief. Once foot goes to the floor feet are killing. Love your stories I hope my description makes u see their ach8ng feet in the mind’s eye. I realize it takes time to write it’s nice to relive pain from 60 years ago. I was born in 58 so didn’t get to see any live action. It sounds like the 1950s was women feet hurt everyday. Love talking with someone who appreciates a woman hurting and still has hours more to go.
I have hired women to work tradeshow booth and required high heels. They are getting paid nicely and I do have a service to sell but for me was to have a lady in heels for 10 hours.
Love your memories.. please keep them coming. Please! Thanks my friend
Hi Pete–I don’t have very many personal memories of family members who needed any relief. My mother’s health was always precarious, and I only remember a couple of times where she was suffering when we got home from her wearing heels. Both times were in the late 50s (57 or 58) when she wore maybe a 3″ spike heel a couple of times. The couple of times that I do remember it got late in the evening and she’d had her pumps on all day. We were watching television and she pushed her shoes off with a sigh of relief! They hurt!! But, like I said, this only happened a couple of times. Still, I have had hundreds of sightings to fall back on. I’m envious of your position though. I’m sure that you must get very close to some (many?) of the girls you hire at the trade shows. I don’t know if you can, but I’d be sorely tempted when interviewing them for the job to tell them just how hard it will be to be on their feet all day in heels, and ask them if they think that they can stand it. Have you ever been in heels all day and on your feet? How was your attitude at the end of the day? (We can’t have our attitude suffer just because our feet are killing us, can we?) Can you make it all the way through the day in heels, or will you have to go to flats? (Need you to stay in the shoes all day.) Can you tell me about your worst situation as a booth model? etc. etc.
While I’m here, I’ll take the opportunity to give you one more–one of my earliest sightings. It was at a mall in southern California, I was probably about 14 or 15–so 1960 or 61. I was at the mall with my folks, and I saw a very pretty young woman (maybe 25) go into a shoe store. It looked like she was hobbling a little bit as she went in there. She had very high (for then–a good 4″ stiletto heel) heels, black patent, with dark colored nylons and a dress. I actually followed her in there. She sat down and immediately pushed off one of her shoes. I was too far away to hear if she let out a sigh or a groan, but it had to feel good! A clerk came over and asked if they could help her. Again, I couldn’t hear her, but she shook her head and the clerk smiled and left (perhaps she told him that she just came in to rest her aching feet?). Obviously, she had just come in for some relief, and what better place to slip your shoe off and rest your tired tootsie than a shoe store? She sat there with just the one shoe off for a few minutes, but then she capitulated to the pain and took off her other shoe. Double relief! Her poor feet were killing her something awful! She sat there in the store for about fifteen minutes, then she resolutely put her feet back inside her shoes, made her way to her feet and, after a couple of tentative, mincing steps, picked up her stride and strode gamely out of the store and back to where she apparently worked. It was a women’s clothing store, so I was dead in the water there if I wanted to see any of her action after that. I would have loved to see her at the close of the day when she had to make her way to the car in the parking lot. Of course, my thoughts raced to the fact that she probably worked there five days a week, and her feet just killed and killed every day. Wouldn’t you have loved to see her at a swank party in the evening after a long day at work? Could she have really had a great time, or did her feet torment her every minute at the party? Did she find unusual ways to get her shoes off at the party where nobody could see her? I know I’ll never know, and I think that in a way, that adds to to the intrigue and mystery. So many scenarios to play with in the head without actually having any in reality!
I look forward to any of your stories, but especially ones from your booth models. You are actually in a position to talk to the women about their feet without any fear of repercussions or skepticism! And, if you are there when they are struggling with surviving till the end of the day, you can commiserate with them easily.
Once again, this post got longer than I thought that it would. All for now.
Art
Hi Art. . Thanks for that memory. So I was thinking it was her first day. She is at her new job taking clothes stocking and following more experienced saleswoman around. Non stop..maybe newer shoes so getting near lunch time and her boss could tell her feet or maybe she pulled her manager aside and said “my feet”
Manager tells her take your lunch(not long) and a good place is a particular shoe story where I go when I need to get my high heels off and rub my feet on the cool floor. Everyone has shoes off so yo don’t look out of place. So she showed up limping but only kicked off 1 shoe. Oh man her relief. She just Saleswoman managers name and the y know why she is here. Finally she gives in and full relief.
But what a long afternoon for her feet.
But yes u can go many directions
I am semi retired now but trying to find a good reason to set up a booth at a show and hire at least 2 ladies.
I was recruiting and selling in the late 90’s and early 2000’s lots of trade shows and the girls knew shoes on.
I wished I had your questionnaire but I relied on Staffing Agencies. I might go with that. One time one of the girls showed up in pants and flats. Called my staffing rep(she promised to work the event if anything was not right. She came within an hour. She was what you described as tough uper lip until it got slow people wise the last 45 minutes. I knew nce I started to see her tilting her red 4 inch stiletto pumps It’s 5 30 30 minutes till show end but hired till 630. Now she grabs on to the podium with the both her hands puts head down(no one has come by booth in at least 5 minutes) like took look down and off come her shoe s. The sound of her relief followed by “Oh God that feels good”! My eyes were looking at a grown professional woman melt in front of me. I said Oh my your feet hurt . How long have u been hurting? Her feet were still rubbing each other, her empty high heels are on their side behind her. She said been a while . I told her to take another miute but now we go and talk to the other vendors and network.. got to run will finish our networking tour today,
Your stories are ones I could read all day! Please as many as you can handle
Hi Pete
I’ll keep ‘me coming. Can do one later today probably. I’ll try to remember one from the PGA Merchandise Show (golf) as this lady typifies most women’s attitude (or at least how I perceive it). You’ll like this one, I’m sure. I still find it sexy.
Talk with you later.
Art
PS–How did that young lady do the last half hour or so?
Hey Art, Isent the rest of the show yesterday but I will look and see if it waiting approval.. Love to hear about PGA Merchandise Show. Did you watch the golf Channel morning show coverage? The blonde host feet looked like they were hurting..That is a huge place! Can not wait but please don’t rush. I will check on my other submission. If not there I wil live the memory again. The readers Digest version . Her feet were in her heels for another 15 minutes before she and another woman both unloaded.
Hi, Pete
I think that we might be able to exchange stories for a long time!
I’ll relate two today, as one is extremely short
First, the short one. This would have occurred around 1960. Our family was at a Los Angeles Dodgers baseball game. It was at the L.A. Colosseum, not Chazes Ravine, so I’m pretty close on the time frame. I left my mom, dad, and brother maybe in the bottom of the 7th inning to go to the restroom. The Colosseum has been renovated, but back then, at least, there were long (50 or 60 yards perhaps) corridors from the seats to the exit to the parking lot and the rest rooms and concession stands. As I was approaching the corridor, two couples were leaving the game early. Back then, people actually dressed up to go to events like ball games, etc.. Both of the women were probably late 20s to early 30s (older women!, as I was only 14 or 15–but I’d had “the bug” for a long time, even then), slim and attractive. The lady in the lead had an incredible pair of very high–4″ heels, at least–stiletto pumps. And, of course, nylons and a dress. Her friend, trailing by a couple of steps, was in a nice pair of what were probably 3″ stiletto pumps. This lady’s feet were killing her! She was striding normally until they hit the corridor. Little did she notice–or probably care–that I fell in just a couple of steps behind them. As soon as she hit the corridor, her strides broke down to where her knees buckled with every step. She sort of half-shuffled her way down the corridor to ease the pounding to the balls of her feet, and as soon as she reached the enclosure, she said to her friend (this is a paraphrase for both women, as I don’t remember their exact exchange) “Don’t your feet hurt? Mine are absolutely killing me!” Her friend maintained a beautiful power stride and replied (to my supreme disappointment) “No. I’m so used to heels that my feet don’t bother me unless I have to be on my feet forever.” The lady who was suffering limped the entire length of the passageway, but, remarkably (and exciting for me!) was that with just a few steps to go before leaving the walkway, she righted her ship with a grunt or a groan, and by the time they emerged, she was,striding like a race horse! How do they do that? She didn’t limp at all as long as I could see them, and in a few yards, they were gone!
This was to be my ” short” story, but it didn’t turn out that way!
Oh, well. One more. This is from my early days as a pilot at US Air. I was flying from Baltimore, MD to Pittsburgh, PA for my simulator check ride the next day. I was taking a flight that departed around 6 in the evening. We’re in the mid 80s now. Part of the “fun” of watching these scenarios is the speculation I envision for my poor damsels. I saw a group of three people–two men and a woman–standing at the gate to the same flight that I was on. They were all professionally dressed–suits for the guys, beige suit for the woman, knee length, dark tan nylons, and very high beige leather stiletto pumps. The group looked like they had probably spent the entire day in meetings or giving a presentation. They looked very professional. My speculation (that’s the fun part) is that they probably left their hotel no later than 8 in the morning, spent all day working, and now were flying home. So, that means our heroine has had her shoes on for ten hours, and they looked like they could do some serious damage to feet! As we boarded, I had a stroke of luck (or perhaps I made my own luck since the flight wasn’t full–I really don’t remember. But, she took an aisle seat, and I took an aisle seat one row behind her, just across the aisle. Perfect vantage point. I had a book to read, but I knew I was only going to be using it as a prop (pretending to read, but looking over the top of the book). I was sure this lady was suffering. As soon as she sat down, she pulled a book out of her purse, crossed her left leg over her right one, and started to read. The taxiing activity was heavy, and it took us twenty minutes or more from pushback till we took off. For the first fifteen minutes or so, I was very disappointed in that there was no activity from the lady. Could it be that they hadn’t spent all day working? Were those shoes not hurting her? Then, just a few minutes before taking off, she went to work. Without missing a word in her book, she dragged her right foot (with her legs still crossed) right to left along the carpet, evidently hoping to snag the tip of her heel on an imperfection in the carpet. It didn’t catch. She immediately tried again. Still, no luck. Again she tried (she wasn’t going to give up!), and this time, the heel caught in the carpet. She continued to drag her foot to the left, and now, with the shoe stuck, her foot slid right out of the shoe. Relief, at last! She kept right on reading, but down below, she anchored the shoe to the floor with her foot, and the second the shoe popped off, her toes scrunched, stretched, and wiggled at a frenetic pace. Her toes were ecstatic. The first ten or fifteen seconds were nonstop movement of her toes. The action slowed to a few scrunches every few seconds, and, eventually, to resting quietly–maybe a scrunch every ten or fifteen seconds. She allowed herself maybe 3 minutes of shoeless bliss, but when the captain announced that we were next for takeoff, she deftly slid her foot back inside the shoe. The flight from BWI to PIT is about one hour or so airtime. This lady kept her legs crossed L over R all the way to engine shutdown at the gate! I can’t even do that. Anyway, she didn’t do anything with her shoe most of the way to Pittsburgh. Although I was happy for the lone episode, I was disappointed that there wasn’t a lot more. As we were descending, she raised my spirits! Again, she dragged the foot, hoping for the same result. Again, the first pass was unsuccessful, but she was determined. After a couple of tries, she got her desired results. The same thing happened with her toes then as happened during taxi. Apparently, the toes needed some air, and her scrunches and flexes supplied it. Again, the action slowed as her foot calmed down. She left her shoe off several minutes until we felt the landing gear being lowered. Then, she put her shoe back on, and that’s the last relief she got. Her ordeal was far from over, however, because we had parked at a gate as far out on the finger as possible! It would take a trek of a couple of hundred yards just to get to the elbow of the corridor to baggage claim and parking lot; a couple of hundred more yards to the exit, and who knows how much farther to the car–a quarter mile, perhaps? I know that lady did not have happy feet by the time she got to sit down again. Perhaps then, she took some relief for her left foot, which got zero love during the flight. I would have loved to have been in the car with her when she finally got to sit down again!
Very long, I know. Hope you like these.
Art
Hi, Pete
In the post I just left, I forgot to check the box for email notification of reply. So, please let me know by email when you reply.
Thanks.
Art
To finish from the morning. To comment on aside#2 yes you do see the tough upper lip in some ladies but to you and I know are hurting every step. That is what was so hard about this lady Tina my staffing rep. I know I still have her for another 40 minutes. The original plan would not have a manager doing this but someone who Tina selected. S o I have to be more tactfull and show Tina a little empathy. Tina knew when we went over that if crowd slowed last hour would be networking with vendors.. This was a smaller show about 100 vendors, I am only networking where I see someone in the booth with high heels or standing near empty ones. Back to Tina has had about 4 minutes out of her 4 inch red stilletto s Finally someone coming towards the booth Tina gets ready to put on shoes. I said not yet I will greet. Thanks she said. I chatted with the guy for a minute. Then came back to Tina I said can you get your shoes on. So off we go .. This woman had worked hard greeting people but now still lks great but not enjoying walking. After a couple of booths 10 minutes .we come to booth an lady with White 4 inch pointy toed high heels her ligh colored panty hose right foot was halfway out of her shoes..i said hello and shoe went back on. We were chatting around a sort of table so Tina was standing next to but not on me and White shoes is next to me on the right. I knew one thing was going to talk until at least one shoe off. Did not take long. I hope you don’t mind but my feet are killing me.only one chair and she is in it now. And her aching feet are out of her shoes. Tina was one foot on the back of her shoe and White shoe saw that and told Tina it’s ok no shoes allowed by me.. Tina’s feet hit the ground and Thanking God again. So here I am surrounded by 4 feet that have been tortured all day. I could have said ok time to to another booth. Instead I said this our last stop.
Your shopper memories sends flashes of many women walking n cement parking lots to hard floors of mall after already having a day of work in heels. Some with children to watch and handhold and feet screaming. I remember this grandmother who yelled out I can’t chase yu my my feet are killing me! I was near the 6 year old and he made grandma wait a few minutes. Love lines at Xmas lots of feet hurting. Years ago lines to get pic was a great place to catch some mom’s slipping off shoes. I love reliving some women I not thought of in years. Story of my date at hockey game . It was 1988 4 inch heels to the game. Will finish tomorrow.
Thanks again Art for your memories
I forgot to check for email when you reply please use this entry
Us sharing memories is great! Going through my mind so I was at the mall department store in the 90s.Cosmetics and this 50 ish lady(nice Dept store) it’s around 4pm. She is in 4 inch heels she is leaning and showing all signs of her ongoing agony. I continued to browse noticing she leaned on the counter(she is on the customer side of it) and her right foot comes out Tan hose and wigggiling those poor toes, her throbbing foot htthe marble surface. She tapped the floor and then a customer came up and shoe went on.
So the customer chats with lady behind the counter, so our lady is standing there waiting with throbbing feet.
So after a few seconds I see her point to another counter to show the sales girl where she will be. S he begins her 20 foot walk and she istopped by an associate and they were talking (I was still browsing and was within hearing distance) after a minute our poor lady leaned on the counter and lifted her foot closest to the counter out. She made a sound of relief as her hot tired foot landed on top of her 4 inch pain provider. I could see the associate look down and seeing her bosses situation. Then our poor suffering lady said ( she probably noticed associate looking or just wanted to let her know) I think I have walked a marathon today.
I was heading over to that counter. The associate say yes get behind that counter and we will talk later.
So she finishes her journey and gets behind counter. I have lost sight of her high heels but not her eyes and she shrinks immediately and both hands on counter eyes roll up. Those high heels I am sure are empty. I count to 15 and then approach from the side and there are her por feet still one on top ofa another massage her pain .then I said can you help me. She looked up and said What can I help you withI said yes 2 things one here and one over there. Her feet had 45 seconds of peace. I noticed the reluctance to put on shoes but watching her move I noticed she was limping a bit,had not seen that before. As we approached the counter the associate who knew her bosses high heels were killing her, did u finish behind the counter., And our lady said my feet barely hit the ground.
I looked down and her right foot was halfway out of her shoes. The associate said I will help him and you can get to what u need to do. Ok she said and started to leave but I wanted to chat with her knowing she thinking shoes off 10 feet away. So ask her how long she has been managing and I ingage in chit chat for couple of minutes and off she goes. Iotice associate watches her go to the other counter and our poor lady two hands on counter and gets shorter asociate smilles. Got keep boss happy. So I played ignorant is she upset with you. No her feet have been in those shoes too long. So when I got done I circled back to our friend, both shoes off her tired hosed feet each on the floor. I just wanted to say I didnt notice you were resting your feet earlier so I aplogize for having u walk. She laughed and said that is nice to say.
Hi, Pete–Good story. You certainly stole a little relief from that woman’s poor feet!
I have an appointment this morning, but I think I have time for one story. You mentioned the PGA Merchandise Show, so I’ll give you one of my favorite ones.
It was three or four years ago. I ran into a presenter (they were selling putters–a futile endeavor, I believe) and they had four or five gorgeous young women to help the customers. They had some contest–how many in a row can you make from ten feet or something–and the girls kept score, etc. Their booth was very open–no place to hide. The show opens at eight, so the girls probably left their hotel by seven. Only two wore heels, but, they were worth it. Turns out that they were twins. Both probably close to 5′ 10″ bare foot. They both had on stiletto heels with a good four inch heel. The one girl’s shoe was a black patent pump, with no platform. The other girl’s was a strange half booty, strappy thing. I first saw them about one in the afternoon. I said to both of them, “I hope I’m wrong, but I bet by the end of the day your feet must hurt.” One girl was non-commital, but the one with the booties said “Oh, you have no idea!” I changed the subject, played their little contest, and made notice of their booth location. I got back to their boot about four. The girl with the booties had gone to flats (ugh), but the other girl was still in her pumps. I got there just as she was taking a break. There were a couple of chairs to rest in, and she made her way to one of them. You could tell from the way that she sat that she was probably a professional model. For a minute, she just sat there. Then–action. She worked her tight shoe off–the right one. Then, starting with her foot flat on the floor, slowly ran her stockinged foot along the carpet until her beautiful leg was fully outstretched. She left it there a few seconds, then slowly pulled it back to where it started. Another hesitation, then another cycle. She did this four or five times. No toe scrunches or stretches–just back and forth rubbing along the carpet. After her last cycle, she slowly put her foot back inside her shoe. Immediately, the other shoe was slipped off, and she did a mirror image of the first performance. After a few cycles, she put her shoe back on. She sat there for a few minutes, when apparently the pressure was again too much. This time, she used her hand to remove the right pump, and repeated her carpet rubbing performance. After a few swipes, she put the shoe back on, grabbed her other pump, slid it off, and did the same thing again. As soon as she finished with that foot, her break was over. I was off to the side of her when she stood up to get ready to go back to work. She literally stumbled the first two or three steps as she got up. One of her colleagues was there, and I heard her say to her “Oh, my feet hurt so bad! So bad!” Then, after a couple of mincing steps, she regained her stride and was back to work. Maybe five minutes later, I “casually” came by and I remarked that she looked great, but didn’t those shoes bother her feet pretty bad by this time of the day (of course, I knew that they did!). “No” she said! “I’m good. Just let me sis down a few minutes every couple of hours and I’m fine. No problem.” Lucky for you, I said. I wished her luck (she needed it) and went on my way. I have always found it fascinating that–for the most part–a woman’s feet can be on fire, but they rarely admit it. She was a case in point. By the way–next day, she was in flats!
All for now. Please keep the stories coming.
Art
Great Stuff! The woman in the booties must of just tore off those babies and went crazy hand rubbing her poor feet. Yes you do meet woman who get embarrassed because you know their feet aren’t just hurting, each step is killing them. All they are thinking is finding a place no one will see them take their shoes off or plac3 to lean. I think when their comrades start ditching their shoes they might give in. Were there many aching feet at the show? Your memories of that women who showed no sympathy for her hurting friend.Making her schuffle. Ithink bth of their shoes came off as soon as they got to acar
T see that woman get her shoe off on the plane. To know those poor feet were going to be killing her.
Thanks great stuff! Do you remember to look at You Tube weddings are great to see high heels killing!
Got to go, hopefully will get a memory done.
Any shows or TV events did yo see high heels hurting?
Hi Pete–I’ll try to answer your q’s as I remember them. About Golf Channel’s anchor–I don’t watch those shows, so I have no idea about the lady that you are referring to. As to any memories of TV, or movies (or, even though you didn’t mention them, newspapers and magazines) I indeed have a good collection of memories. I have a great one from the L.A. Times from 1959 or 1960. This one is so ingrained in my memory that I even remember the caption almost word for word. This is the story: The Times has a picture of a woman sitting on a bench; her legs outstretched in front of her. She looked to be about 25 years old; she was wearing a light colored dress (B & W photo, obviously), nylons and white stiletto pumps with a heel of at least 3 to 3.5 inches. (The main story talked about the sailors arriving at the Long Beach naval yard.) Her shoe was off and her husband was giving her foot a massage. I’ll tell you the caption, and then dissect what a day of misery this poor woman had to endure. Here is the caption (and even though this happened almost 60 years ago, it’s seared into my mind–even names and places!): “Sheldon Goodner, arriving on the USS Keyes, eases the aching feet of his wife, Barbara, who hadn’t had her shoes off since leaving their Mount Ida, Arkansas home.”
OK–Let’s analyze her day. First, we must remember that Arkansas is two hours ahead of L.A. Here’s what a day of torment I believe that Barbara had to suffer through. I have to surmise what her itinerary was In order to get to Los Angeles, There aren’t many options; the best one, I think, would be to first get to Dallas, then take a non-stop flight to L.A. There are no non-stop flights from Mount Ida, or for that matter, Little Rock to L.A. So, she has to get from Mount Ida to Little Rock; Little Rock to Dallas; Dallas to L.A. then get a limo to take her to the naval station in Long Beach. I’ll assign an actual time to her movements after establishing the length of time that she had to spend to get there. I’ll begin: She leaves her house (in Mount Ida) and has to get to an airport that can get her to Little Rock. I’m going to assume that she has to leave her house at least an hour before her check-in time at this tiny airport, allowing time to drive there, walk in to the terminal (the “ouchies” begin!) and get checked in. TOTAL TIME ELAPSED: 1 hour. I’ll also assume that she wants to make darned sure that she doesn’t miss that flight, so she will plan to get there an hour before the flight. TOTAL TIME ELAPSED: 2 hours. Puddle-jumper flight to Little Rock: I don’t know; let’s say 45 minutes. TOTAL TIME ELAPSED: 2:45. Time spent in Little Rock airport waiting for connection flight to Dallas: :45 at least. TOTAL TIME ELAPSED: 3:30 Flight from Little Rock to Dallas: at least an hour. TOTAL TIME ELAPSED: 4:30. Time waiting for flight out to L.A.: Let’s say just :45 minutes this time. By the way, to get from the commuter gates to the jet gates, you have to walk, walk, walk. More severe ouch! TOTAL TIME ELAPSED: 5:15 Flight from Dallas to L.A.: It’s into the wind, so I bet a good three and a half hours, at least when you include taxi time on both ends of the flight. Feet swelling on the airplane as the cabin altitude soars to 8000 feet (less pressure outside than on the ground–feet swell up). ASIDE: Question–Why didn’t she take off her shoes on the plane? Maybe back then, decorum would have dictated that she keep her shoes on–that would seem to be a pretty reasonable guess. TOTAL ELAPSED TIME: 8:15. Time from leaving the plane in L.A. till arriving at the Long Beach naval yard (it’s probably a half hour’s drive now, if traffic isn’t too heavy): :45 minutes at least to get out to the curb, get the limo or taxi and drive to the naval yard. TOTAL ELAPSED TIME: 9 hours. You know that she wanted to get there well before the sailors disembarked, so let’s say she got there an hour before the guys started spilling out of the ship. TOTAL ELAPSED TIME: 10 hours. Reunion, etc. etc. 15 minutes and they begin to head out to the rental car area. TOTAL ELAPSED TIME: 10:15 And I think that this is an absolute minimum. Who knows, she may have had a two hour or more wait at the naval base before the ship finally arrived and let the sailors leave the ship. Before they have gone too far, Barbara has to beg off and finally get some relief for her incredibly aching feet! She just could not go another step! By the way, the look of relief on her face in the photo said volumes! How much could he have helped her? Maybe ten minutes? Then, it’s shoes back on; a long trek to the car in feet that have swollen up like a balloon and that now have rejuvenated blood supply to the nerve endings of her poor feet and we have a recipe for a total meltdown once she was able to get into the car and take off her shoes again–this time for what she hopes is an extended period of time. Her feet had to be crying! But, in my cruel scenario, seaman Goodner has made arrangements to go out with a couple of his shipmates and their wives in celebration of returning from a long cruise on the seas. Maybe, Barbara has to withstand dinner and dancing, extending her ordeal by another three or four hours!! Oh, dread the thought. So, let’s put a time frame on this day for poor Barbara. We know with pretty good certainty that she spent at least 10 hours and 15 minutes with her shoes on. If she left her house at 8 AM (Central Time) she would have been finally getting her shoe off at (no earlier than) 4:15 Pacific time. And worst case scenario for her, maybe as late as 6 PM–who knows. The caption didn’t say. I wish it had said “…since leaving their Mount Ida Arkansas home 15 hours earlier.” But, it didn’t. We have to be content with what we got. And, since this memory has endured almost 60 years, I guess that it was pretty good as it was. By the way, if you know of any way of archiving that picture/story, I’d love to know how to do it. Hope that you enjoyed this–I have a pretty good memory collection of pictures from the L.A. Times; Life magazine; Look magazine and a few other sources that I think you’d find interesting.
All for now.\
Art
Hi Art, so I mentioned I was stationed at Dyess Afb 4 years my friend but lots of great TDY’S!!
Abilene Tx,when my wife and I drove into town on a Sunday streets(blue laws1983) were barren with a huge ball like you see in the Westerns going down the street. Anyway probably 100k in the town. One main Mall and every once in a while they would have a “Sidewalk Sale”. That meant all those salesgirls came out on to the Mall area . Each store had some kind display or rack of clothes whatever.
Usually I would head to the Mall of Abilene around 2pm the expectation of seeing women hurting is exciting.In the Mall and beginining to ots of chances . Nice clothing store girl early 20 is tight skirt dark tan hose gray 4 inch stiletto pumps byknow it’s 3pm thankfully there is bench about 15 feet away at an angle to the storefront. Like a front row to this PooR victem of those hard floors in the Mall.She is talking to customer
Then it arranging some clothes and then one hand goes on the rack and slowly her aching foot comes out of her shoe. It just look tired and hurting her poor foot looking for some where to rub and acustomer steps up. Just observing weight shifting. I had to walk for a bit saw a few more that were out of their shoes either one foot or in one case young girl 18( lots of colleges in Abilene) one of those cheap earring stores. Her feet are out f 4 inch heels As I approached sheaid I just took these off! As she stepped into her shoes I . Said don’t do that for me. She looked at me for a second and I said you don’t have to for me really and those poor feet were free!
But I was still going back to see our original find. It’s 430 and isee she has 2 customers. After a few minutes just one and while she is talking her right foot comes out she wiggle her toes. Shoe back on traffic dead she is straightening. Then she leans on rack with her elbw ad her shoe’s fall off She had reach a point of enough
Her feet enjoying the hard but cool floor of her hot tired feet were moving her empty heels under the rack.
Plenty more to come! Home you liked shopping with me
Hi Pete–Good work on your last story. You must be less nasty than I am. For me, when I see a woman nudge her shoe off after clearly wanting some relief desperately, I find it irresistibly fascinating to see her have to put the shoe back on almost immediately.
OK–another media story. Shouldn’t take too long. This was around 1964. I saw it in Look magazine. The article followed a couple as they went to the West Point Academy Ball. The guy was a student and his date was just that–his date. She was trim and attractive; wearing a dress that was tight at the waist, then billowed out so that it sort of looked like an umbrella canopy (I’m sure that there was a name for this style of dress–I just don’t know it.), and it ended at just about knee length. She was wearing nylons and very thin, though not exactly stiletto heeled, pumps. The photo was taken at exactly the perfect time. The photographer could not have done better if he tried. (Actually, there were a number of photos; just one that would interest us.) The couple was at the end of a very long night. They had just come in (I don’t know if it was his place or hers), and the photo–vantage point looking straight at the woman–shows the gentleman removing a shawl from the lady’s shoulders as she apparently had just that second sat down, and the woman crossing her legs, grabbing a shoe and pulling it off. The foot must have just not quite popped free, but it was close, because the look on her face has her in a tight grimace and her eyes are closed! Agony, with relief just a millisecond away! She must have been on her feet most of the night, and they were killing her. Also, she didn’t wait two seconds from the time she sat down to removing the pumps. I always think–This lady couldn’t stand another minute. But, what if they had stayed out another ten minutes. Surely, she would have endured the extra ten minutes. So, even though it looked like she couldn’t stand another second of those shoes, I’m sure that she could have if she had to. I don’t know if that makes sense as I write it, but I hope that you know what I mean.
One more media story since the last one was so short. This was from Life magazine, probably somewhere between 1960 and 1964. A lady has been partying hard all night. She has another party that she is going to attend, but she is back in her apartment with her roommates for a short break. We see this young lady, elegantly dressed and wearing 4″ stiletto pumps, as she is seated in a chair, facing the camera. She has just come in from a party that she attended minutes ago. She is pushing off one of her pumps with the toe of the other shoe; arms outstretched as if for stabilizing her move. She looked relieved, so her shoe had just popped off. The lady apparently is explaining to the photographer just why she took her shoes off, and the caption said (and I’m paraphrasing because I don’t remember the exact words) “I just had to give my feet a rest before I went to the next party.” I can envision the lady enjoying life with her shoes off for ten or fifteen minutes before gamely putting her feet back inside the shoes (that were killing her just a few minutes earlier!) and heading out for another shindig. I wish that the magazine crew had been waiting for her when she got back from that last party. I’d bet that the shoes never made it on her feet to a chair. I envision a swift kick of the feet to send the shoes off the second she gets inside her apartment.
All for now.
I’ll have more personal stories tomorrow.
Art
Hi Art, Great memories from those articles. Going to try and find on line.
Poor Barbara! Great job detailing her time in those shoes. The hard floors carrying luggage, the time standing. Just so many hours, so much hurt when she saw the bench all she could think about relief!
The caption alone talking about shoes not off since leaving her home. How many women could relate to having days like that. That walk to the limo. Must have been rough in the limo Throbbing feet, Hot Tired
Every time she moved her shoes …pain..no doubt like you said Art she still has a ways to walk.
Like you many times I see a lady just get her shoe off. I love jumping in so she has to put back on. Sometimes others might cause it to happen. Knowing she has decided that her foot needs out of her shoes she is forced to suffer.
A couple of quick to things. It had to be in late sixties and the (NYC) Yellow pages had a commercial. They show a pair of women’s feet in a pair of 3 inch high heels light colorored hose(b/w) So they show her leave the office only thing on screen is women’s feet walking on the sidewalk up and down curbs. The voiceover is saying instead of letting her fingers do the walking she is spreading her pain all over town. They follow her feet back to her desk where both shoes fcome off feet start rubbing together. Caption Let your fingers do the walking. If you find this online please let me know.
Another quick one! Family Fued back in the Day Richard Dawson and Ray Combs when they had playboy bunnies vs centerfolds 10 women in high heels for hours they tape 5 shows, By Tuesday The feet are slipping out of shoes.
Looking forward to more of your memories! I’m really enjoying sharing. I’m going to see if I can find those pics from Look online and LA Times old photos
I will give more person memories after a bit.
Pete
Hi Pete–First I want to thank you for those memories. I had not seen the Yellow Pages ad. I would have loved to see the Family Feud shows. Dawson was great. I used to watch quite a bit; sorry I missed that series. I love Bunny “stuff”. My wife was actually a Bunny at the Baltimore PB club in the early 70s–way before I met her. She only had one picture that she showed me. I could have gulped. She was in her mid thirties when I met her, and she was one of the most attractive women I’ve ever been out with. In her Bunny costume she was stunning! In that picture she was in sky high stilettos! She told me her feet hurt so bad at the end of her shifts that she couldn’t operate the car pedals normally. She had to use the soles and heels of her feet because the balls of her feet were excruciatingly painful. Eventually I will get to stories of my wife’s ordeals.
If you can find the stories I recounted to you, please let me in on how to get them! Tonight, I’ll address your question about movie or TV shows. As I was thinking about it, there must be around fifty (give or take) that I can think of (if I include commercials). I’ll relate at least one; two with time permitting. It’s 2:20, and I usually hit the rack about 3 AM. Here’s one that stunned me, because it was out of the blue. Perhaps you have at least heard of a show called “77 Sunset Strip”. It was on in the late 50s. If I remember correctly it was about this private eye who solved cases in the L.A. area. In this particular episode–for whatever reason–a character in the show was looking to rent an apartment (some details may be lost to memory, but the bottom line isn’t!). She was attractive, of course, and wore a dress, nylons and very high stiletto pumps. She was very antsy and just wanted to get the deal done. The manager kept wanting to ask questions and tell her things about the place. She just couldn’t get rid of the manager. Finally, she got him to leave, and the second he left the woman kicked off her shoes, moaning in agony and collapsed on the bed. There didn’t seem to be any lead up to her doing that, but that was a “wowser” scene for me.
I do have time for one more great scene. It’s from an episode of “Mr. Ed” believe it or not. I actually found the episode a year or so ago online, but couldn’t archive it again a while ago. Here’s the situation: I’m not sure why, but Carol (the wife) decides that she is going to get a job for some extra income. She’s going to be a dance instructor. We pick up the action as she and her best friend arrive at Carol’s after a long night on her feet giving dance lessons. She’s limping and moaning about her suffering and as she sits down her friend puts Carol’s feet in her lap, takes off her very high, white stiletto pumps and begins to massage her aching feet. Scarcely a few seconds of precious relief occur when they hear Carol’s husband, Alan, (and her friend’s husband) arriving. Oh, no! She didn’t want to admit that her feet were killing her because she assured him that she could handle the job. So, she and her friend scrambled to put her shoes back on but it was agony. She took a couple of mincing steps, but as soon as her husband came into the room, she was all smiles and giggles. She went up to him and started dancing a cha cha (could have been some other lively dance) with flair, confidence and wild abandon. At some point, it was decided that the guys wanted a snack. The ladies disappeared into the kitchen. If I remember correctly, Carol nearly collapses in agony, but her friend has her make an encore performance, so she emerges for a few seconds and does a further rendition of the dance–strong and lively action. I know that scene happens–I’m just not sure whether it was before they made the snacks, or after. I’m pretty sure it was before, but not 100%. Anyway, after that performance, Carol sprightly goes back into the kitchen where she literally collapses in agony into a chair as her friend does the snacks. Episode would have been from the early 60s if I’m not mistaken. If you can find that one in the archives you will not be disappointed. I believe it can be found under “Carol takes a job” or something. The descriptions are such that you can exclude nearly all of them immediately that obviously aren’t the one.
Last thing before I go. I used to fly for Braniff Airways, so I am very familiar with those malls you talked about. I have several accountings from the mall with the skating rink in it. Lots of Playboy Bunny stories from the Dallas PB Club (That’s where the Bunny announced that in two minutes her shoes were going to fall off of her feet.)
All for now–it’s 3:10 and I have to proof read my post. Talk with you later.
Art
I am definitely going to look for that episode. Your poor wife! Can’t wait for her ordeals . With her you get to witness the final stop for he aching high heeled feet.
We have so much material. I remember a Lucy episode where Lucy had to look for an apartment and her getting home scene showed her kickoff her high heels and show her nylon covered feet.
But the story of Carol faking her husband about her aching feet. Many woman did that at least tried to be very careful about removing their shoes until they got home.
I will be sharing a memory later today.
Pete
Hi Art,. I did go through a great night of a life long memory. Also a night of not taking advantage of obvious opportunities.
1988 Dallas dd not have an NHL Team, So this year the Flyers played I don’t remember who in an exhibition game in Fort Worth. I had season tickets to The Texas Rangers, and this lady sat near me and liked hockey.
We met at Then The Shearton so I could drive to the event. Cindy has black hair beautiful body black dress black hose and black 5 inch stilletto heels. Wow! Drive there park at a little bar across and and easy out. Anyway it seems it quickly sunk in that she going to be doing a lot of walking
She was saying she marched 5 miles yesterday in her reserve training. In normal boots but was already having feet issues.
We get to our seats and huge relief has her feet came out of her shoes halfway. S in those days smokers had to leave the seating area to smoke. We both smoked 5 trips to do that all cement. 10 minutes to go in the game she whispers in my ear. I hope you don’t mind I took my shoes off. Here is regret because I certainly had a chance to talk and rub her feet and didn’t think about it till I reviewed in my head.
Game ends and Say R u ready? She says no not yet. She does not want to walk. Her feet are killing her 1/2 mile cement 5 inch killers. She is on my arm ,as we exit the Convention Center, She see we still have lots of steps to go. The moan was real noticable, this poor girls feet. She just wanted to look nice. But now holding on to me each I can hear her reaction to her balls of her feet pounding. We get to within 10 feet of the car and she says the line..I can’t take another step.. I am holding her up not totally but she was done, I went ahead and opened the door and she slid into the car and those feet came out .she streched back and just moaned in relief,those black stocking feet were all about being there for each other rubbing. I was just so amazed at her enjoyment of taking off her shoes.
Great memory but opportunities to massage her feet not taken..Still she was great. I never saw her again.
She had a very tragic ending just 3 months later,
Hope you enjoy.
BTW love those TV show memory. Found working Wives episode Season 3 episode 20 but going through to find the one you remember. I kinda of remember it myself but hazy..
Talk soon
Pete
Hi Pete–Great story. I will comment on it later, and give you another one from my “vault”. But, this morning I got a scare–I tried to replay to the response you left, and I got a “could not connect to this website. So, just in case, I want to give you my personal email site (and I’d like yours if you don’t mind). That way, if the owner of this site shuts it down, or something like that, we can still get together. So–I’m at airbusart@gmail.com. Shout at you later today.
Art
Hi, I´m a big fan of severe bunions with up to 90 degree angled big toes, hammertoes, corns and calluses. I wonder why nowhere in the net is a Lady – a callgirl or an escort Service – that offers the Service of bunioned feet. I´m sure there are tons of callgirls out there who have severe bunions. Anyone knows a Connection to such a Lady?
Society has decreed that bunions are not beautiful, and humans, most especially females, perceive themselves as slaves to an externally imposed beauty standard. An astute businesswoman with severe foot deformities could travel the country, or even the globe, soliciting the favor of female foot pain and deformity fetishists. But I have no such direct connection to provide.
Hi I’m Eva 26 glad to know some ppl like bunions due to the fact of having them so long I can’t help to crack it numerous times out the day and when I do ppl always look at me like its disgusting it so I try to do this only at home but I have to crack it even though it hurts so bad when I do that I can feel all the way up my calf and the pain shuts me down for a second but at the same time gives me relief of breaking mobility hold it has on my feet the right foot is the worst smh. I let this guy smash my bunions from the side with a plastic Pepsi bottle once BC I was in so much pain and I ended up in even more if a frenzy. That was the only personal encounter I had with a guy and my feet so I always thought about i besides that I went to this place called foot heaven in the city I paid for a half an hour session to get my foot massages only to be limping out of there in 10.
Thanks for sharing your painful bunion situation. Yes, there are bunion fetishists who find this physical feature the height of erotic appeal. Some are also specifically excited by bunion pain, while others are primarily enticed by the physical appearance of the bunioned foot, in and of itself. My personal fetish encompasses both spectrums, and includes the concept of female masochism, where a gal is herself sexually excited by her own foot pain, and/or by the appearance of her bunioned or otherwise deformed feet.
You should display your bunions with pride of personal ownership, and understand that all sexual attraction and orientation is equally valid. Your bunions are just as beautiful as you are capable of recognizing them to be.
If you are inclined to altruism, I would suggest you openly express your foot pain to others, as there are many fetishists who gain personal catharsis upon witnessing the experience of pain by others. Do not be afraid to ease your agonized foot out of its shoe, as you pronounce with sincerity how much your bunion is killing you. To those who might hear you, even if they never openly admit it, your admission may touch them on a deeply emotional level, and provide them with many years of sexual pleasure, as has been the case with Me, regarding the personal experiences and encounters with female foot pain that I have enjoyed over the years.
Hello, I found this consuming and curating for my own collection and I love your work! The writing is amazing and it is indeed a rare fetish and small community. I would love to read more!
Thanks for the appreciation. Be patient, wait for my email, and we may be able to share resources. Meantime, here is another photo from my 6000+ archived photo collection, that may appeal to you. This is a young gal in her 20’s afflicted by severe rheumatoid arthritis:
My e-mail is castsandfeet {at} gmail if you don’t mind dropping me a line
I will email you soon. I am very busy with many different things, so be patient. But I am very open to sharing of resources regarding female foot pain or deformity, and will provide more information in my upcoming, near-term email. 🙂
Hello, I love your work, I stumbled across it consuming and curating my own collection – Thank you for sharing this I would love to read more!
You’re welcome, always nice to come across a female foot pain aficionado. I am familiar with your website and found some wonderful images and stories there. Within this blog, I intend to share foot pain images and stories very selectively and on a limited basis, as I have many other topics of consuming personal interest.
The mind could be very creative if it wasn’t for the indoctrination and conditioning at the hands of societies. It’s ridiculous that humans minds are controlled in which their creativity is limited and restricted in doing certain things