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Called to Heel

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Written by Arian Mabe (Amethyst Mare)

Commissioned by anonymous

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“You come now! Quickly now!"

Qiao scowled, although there was nothing pretty about it as she snapped her fingers repeatedly, tapping the heel of a daring pink number on the linoleum. It did not quite make the click that she was looking for, but that only threw her further into a fit of frustration, throwing her arms up as her handbag swung wildly from her shoulder in the exact same shade as her high heels. The shopping centre was crowded in the run-up to Halloween, although it was not for any kind of celebratory costume or clothing that she was looking for, oh no: Qiao most certainly was not the kind of woman who'd go for headbands with dancing pumpkins or spooky cat ears!

No... Qiao was a woman with fine tastes, her Chinese heritage evident in the cut of her cheekbones and how her eyes slanted, although some of that was simply because she had them narrowed so much of the time as if something had displeased her. Her breasts had sagged some with age, for she was by no means a spring chicken, but her clothes were of the highest quality, even though she had not spent a single penny on them in, well, all of the time since she'd clawed Matt into her life. And that man had been everything she'd needed to control and so very much more too.

For anyone who knew Qiao knew that she was a woman with a passion for a certain kind of footwear, although it was only those fortunate or unfortunate, depending on how one looked at it, enough to stay in her life for a while longer than the norm that truly got to experience the depth of her fascination, her domineering lifestyle taking a certain kind of person to keep up with.

“Matthew! Matthew? Why you no come?"

Hurrying up to her, he pushed his hair back from his forehead, the dark strands dark with sweat.

“Yes, dear!" He said, breaking into a light jog. “I'm coming!"

It was all he could do and he gnawed the inside of his cheek as he fell into stride with her, her short, quick stride surprisingly ground-covering for her shorter height. She was not a woman that would instantly be assumed to be intimidating – at least until she opened her mouth, that was. After that, well...everything changed.

“This one! We go here!"

Striding confidently into the shop, the sign above their head reading 'Forever 21', Qiao cast her eyes about for her target: the glittering, illuminated racks of high heels all set up at the back of the shop for her perusal. If there was anyone else in the shop, they would have been wise to leave quickly after her entry, the rats fleeing the sinking ship of a shop that was intended for a far younger clientele than Qiao – not that she didn't dress fashionably, of course, only perhaps not quite suited for her age. But who was to say that, truly? It wasn't up to anyone else to judge.

Hurling her coat off to the side, Qiao sighed heavily and launched her coffee at the main display of shoes at the front of the store, bulldozing along her way as if there was nothing before her at all. The world was her playground, after all, and she was not a woman that took lightly to anyone getting in her way. The lid flew off the takeaway coffee cup with a green logo – one of the big favourites – and pumpkin spice latte spilt out in a sweeping arc, spattering the floor as if in an artificial rain even as the damage was already done. With coffee soaking into the suede and faux leather – it was not really one of the higher end shops, in all honesty – the shoes on that seasonal display simply could not be sold and Qiao's reign of terror had begun in yet another store.

And Matt was simply left to follow, a pawn trotting along obediently, even if his eyes darted frantically, a small crowd growing as other shoppers paused in what they were doing, eyes wide and jaws slack. Why didn't they go? They would do better to go! It would, at least, mean fewer people to bear witness to having the shame of his wife going on a high heel rampage yet again, although it was becoming such a common occurrence that it was a wonder that he was not simply bankrupt after everything she'd put him through. It did, however, perhaps explain why he was so isolated in his personal life if not his professional one as it was considerably difficult to maintain personal relationships with such a wonderfully overbearing influence in his life.

He wouldn't have changed it for the world though. Not one bit of it.

Squealing delightedly, Qiao near enough bounced on the balls of her feet, heels clacking obnoxiously even as her childish glee nearly caused her to topple over. If she did, she would only shriek for her husband anyway, who would come running as he always did. It was one of the many things that she could count on about him.

“Uh, Qiao?" Matt ventured. “Haven't we got rather a lot of stuff already? My card..."

“No!" She clapped her hands, selecting a pair of baby blue pumps from the nearest shelf, turning them over in her hands. “More! You do love me, don't you, Mattie?"

He winced at the babyish use of his name but knew better than to complain, the cashier already giving them odd looks from across the shop; they knew who to keep an eye on. Of course, he loved her, he just... Oh, what did it matter? It wasn't going to change anything and, with how his stomach pleasantly churned and flipped over every time she graced him with her presence, neither was he sure that he wanted anything to change.

Maybe things were their own wicked kind of perfect just as they were.

Qiao giggled and ran her hand down the top shelf of heels, knocking one after the other to the floor. The solid material of the heel itself gave a solid knock every time one landed, the softer fabric and leather folding more lightly into the floor as if to mimic the varied kisses of lovers beneath the tender caress of moonlight. But the harsh glare of the shop lights was hardly anything that romancers would write about and Qiao seated herself to try on a pair of chunky heels with thick straps that reached up and around her ankles, toenails painted and polished to perfection in a clear pedicure. Matt licked his lips, fingers crinkling into the bags in his arms as if he was trying to draw them in even closer to himself, although they offered him no semblance of protection.

But when Qiao was on a mission, nothing was going to stop her. And if that mission was finding yet another pair of heels (oh, who was he kidding – it was going to be many pairs!), then he would just have to deal with it.

“Oops!"

Laughing, she rocked back onto her hands and kicked the other heel off, shooting it directly up into a light fixture, which buzzed and rocked but, thankfully, did not plummet to an untimely death.

“Miss! Miss!"

The shop assistant hurried to keep up, eyes wide and round behind her spectacles.

“How are you going to pay for all of this?" She said, sweeping her arm out. “You can't just walk around destroying everything!"

If he knew it would not have fallen to him, Matt would have laughed but, as it was, his lips merely twitched as Qiao threw her head back, cackling a laugh that rang obnoxiously through the shop as if she was trying to draw attention to herself. However, she should have known that she really didn't have to try to draw attention to herself as it was something that came to her perfectly naturally.

“My husband, of course!"

“Oh, well..." The younger sales assistant wrung her hands, clearly flustered and put on the back foot. “I guess... Well, that's okay then. That's great. Um... Well, sir?"

Matt sighed and pressed his fingers between his eyes, sliding them down to pinch the bridge of his nose. Why him? Why did it always have to be him?

Well, he knew the answer to that question even if he didn't want to admit it to himself, looking down at his shoes as he swallowed the lump in his throat. She was always going to be 'it' for him and there was nothing he could do about that, so why torment himself?

“Yes, I will pay," he said quietly, cheeks and neck flushed in hot, angry patches of red. “Don't worry, just... Get her what she wants, okay? Anything she wants."

Qiao grinned, flashing a set of brilliantly white teeth – he'd paid for that cosmetic service too, of course – and flung a heel across the store. It smacked into a display of kitten pumps, sending the majority of the tower tumbling in a rattle and clatter to the floor and the feet of a growing crowd of dismayed shop assistants. But what would they really do about her, free entertainment at its best, when everything was going to be paid for anyway? They were only sales assistants and by no means equipped to deal with the tantrums of a grown, adult woman. What did they care what she did? It wasn't coming out of their paycheques but Matt's instead.

“See? See? He pay!"

And he would pay, but not quite yet. First, of course, she had to thoroughly enjoy herself by trying on practically every pair of heels in the shockingly well-equipped shop – not even the boots were safe, although they were not something she would usually go for. Perhaps her tastes were changing but all Matt could do was stand back and watch her woodenly, frozen into a statue in the middle of the shop, her shopping bags from previous stores clutches in his arms as if he needed to protect them. But he couldn't imagine what she would do or say to him if he lost the bags and, so, he only clutched them tighter, plastic crinkling in towards his chest as she strutted back and forth in a pair of medium heeled boots, which came up to the ankle with tassels dangling.

Not her style, Matt was hardly surprised when she plopped herself back down to drag off the boots and dragged them off one after the other. However, he barely ducked in time as the first sailed past his head, smashing into a mirror that splintered across its front and toppled to the floor, the clang of falling glass and metal framework nowhere near enough to deter her from her shoe rampage.

“What you doing here, hm? I shop here now!"

Matt jumped, startled to see Qiao brandishing a heel at a rather frightened looking mouse of a woman who stepped back with wide eyes and her mouth turned into a dark little 'O' of surprise. It was no wonder she was surprised too, what with a Chinese lady waving a stiletto at her, but her sense of self-preservation was too great and it took no encouragement whatsoever for her to scarper, fleeing the shop with the few other customers who had not, as yet, come to their senses. It didn't pay to be around when Qiao was, except for in the case of the shop assistants, who had simply lined up to gawk and giggle and enjoy the show.

“Yes! That right!"

Frowning, Qiao flapped her hands as if to shoo away all others, although it was only the youngest assistant who shrank back, the others perhaps a little more seasoned in their ways and work than her.

“These are all old! Such bad quality!"

It was one of her favourite lines, to accuse a shop of keeping poor quality shoes on the shelves, and she walked down the line of shoes recessed into the back wall, picking them up one by one and tossing them back over her shoulder without a care in the world. With all the shopping bags in his arms, Matt rushed to hurry behind her and try to pick up what he could, although his work was cut out for him with his refusal to put the shopping down and also try to leave as little mess as possible in her wake – which was a losing battle in itself.

“You should have done these better..."

Tutting loudly, Qiao swept a full table of shoes onto the floor, squealing in delight and leaping onto them as she strove to break and destroy the buckles as she stomped and danced, flinging her hands up in such a public spectacle that one would have thought her deranged if they had not known better. But, of course, Qiao knew exactly what she was doing and performed every action to the minute amount of finesse and detail required to seek the thrills she so easily and pleasurably claimed for her own.

“See?" She taunted the sales assistants, wagging her finger at them as if she was telling them off for some transgression that only she was privy to. “Should do better! Better!"

Matt squirmed uncomfortably, wishing that he could sink back into the background but somehow he had come up against the sales assistants, the little gawping crowd eyeing him as if not quite knowing what to make of such a man who was with such a woman. He supposed it was strange but it was no unusual thing for him to be judged and so he drew himself up as tall as possible, staring directly ahead as Qiao placed her mauve shoe delicately on a stand, the narrow heel not really suited for the task at hand, and pushed it over, sending the display clattering and spewing out shoes and scarves (did those really go together?) in all directions.

“Hah!"

The bark of laughter echoed eerily in the shop, which didn't even have the music on as she swung her foot through the scattered mess of shoes, sending them flailing and spiralling out even further in a colourful cacophony of chaos. One of the assistants winced and whispered to a colleague, although it was the sort of whisper that carried, intended for Mark's ears even as he tried to shuffle away, to blend into the background while Qiao was on her rampage, clearly and utterly well out of any sort of control.

“I best get the manager down here if she's going to be doing that..."

Matt winced. He could just see his bill skyrocketing before his eyes, the train wreck that he couldn't do anything about and never had wanted to, a part of him adoring the spectacle while the larger, more human part recoiled from it, wallowing and paddling through abject humiliation.

“It's...ah..."

He flinched, eyeing the youngest cashier out of the corner of his eye as she leaned in, a small, knowing smile pulling at her lips.

“It's really nice for you to come here with your mother," she said softly, laying a hand that was supposed to be comforting on his tense forearm. “Don't worry, we'll clean up the mess. Just please don't let her destroy anything...if you can?"

Matt swallowed and pulled himself away, although it was with some difficulty with his arms full.

“Oh..." How could he say it? “She's, ah.... No, she's not my mother."

Stand proud! He pushed his shoulder blades back but it was hard to look stern or imposing with his arms full of his wife's shopping bags.

“She is my wife."

He said it as if it was something to be proud of, at least, but the cashier stepped back as if she'd been pushed, her lower jaw falling slack.

“Oh... Oh! I'm so sorry..."

But the damage was done and Matt turned away, his lips very firmly pressed together as the old anger rose up in the pit of his stomach. Who was she to judge? And, yet, people would judge, neither understanding his need for Qiao and his infatuation with her, which could be deemed, at some times, unhealthy. But it was the best kind of unhealthy that kept him going, kept him yearning after her as that tightness grew in his loins, only the shopping bags hiding his arousal from view, although he would have been thinking rather a lot of himself if he thought that any eyes were on him or the bulge that his jeans mostly hid anyway.

Oh, but how they judged.

“What's he doing with such an older woman?"

“It's so strange."

“Look!"

That last note was his cue to snap his attention back to Qiao, who flung heel after heel off a shelf like a missile, firing them in all directions as a crowd of nearby teens squealed and scattered, clearly having hidden nearby to watch the show.

“No! Qiao!"

He raced after her, dropping some of the bags in his haste. She did not even blink, not giving him the satisfaction of a reaction as she scattered the shoes at the feet of the teenagers, hair and curls flying as they raced from her wrath. It was all a game to her, every last cruel bit of it, and Qiao cackled, clapping her hands as she eyed a stiletto and then flung it up high, the silly straps on the thing that had so displeased her catching on a light fitting that swung wildly, the bulb threatening to come loose from the fixture itself.

He flung out his arm to her too late, dropping another bag that spilt the guts of its contents in a slew of stylish pumps that were her current favourite, although her likes and dislikes changed as frequently as the weather, or so he liked to say to himself.

“Oh! You worry too much!"

Qiao giggled and danced out of his reach, eyes glittering cruelly as she snatched up a pair of scissors from the cashier's register, hopelessly left there and not put away in time. Anyone would have feared for their lives or at least their safety if they'd seen such a woman with a sharp object in her hand, but Qiao was only interested in the heels, what they could do for her and, truly, what she could do to them. For there was so very much that she could do with them too and so much destruction that could all be had at her fingertips, if only she was bold enough to take the leap. And the ability to make a show was something that Qiao had in spades!

“Terrible! Terrible shoes! Bad quality! I fix!"

But what she did certainly wasn't anything like fixing. Laughing with her head thrown up, she swiftly worked her way down a shelf of shoes, snipping through the straps of each and every one as if to demonstrate just how cheaply made they were. True, the shop was not the highest end or most expensive of ones that she usually frequented, but that only meant that the trip would be a little easier than normal on Matt's wallet – or so he hoped. Often his hopes were terribly dashed, like a body on the rocks of a dream gone so very terribly wrong.

“Qiao! Stop it! You can't even wear them if you cut them up like that!"

He cried, though it was a futile cry that held no real weight behind it as he ran after her, the woman surprisingly swift for her height. Scoffing, she flipped her other hand at him, slicing through the straps on every side of a pair of pink suede strappy heels that would have reached up over the ankle when worn.

“Too bad... I'd never wear. Too bad to wear. So, I fix! I fix everything!"

What she was doing could never have been called fixing as she raged on her path of destruction, not even pausing to look back at what lay in her wake. Coming across the mirror that she had thrown a heel at earlier – oh, it seemed like only a moment ago – flat on its back, she stomped on it and pivoted, somehow in a pair of slingback heels that suited her narrow ankles perfectly, drawing the eye down. Slick and flashy, they would have been perfect – if she'd liked them, that was, and she didn't like them. As the mirror shattered, the stand breaking under her weight, the heels flew like missiles across the store, getting some good air time before smashing into first one and then a second fixture, this time smashing the bulbs to smithereens as the second heel dangled forlornly.

Of course, however, Qiao was really there to try shoes on and, well, it wouldn't have done to just cause trouble now, would it? She plopped herself down on the bench intended for a few patrons at once to try on shoes, claiming it all for herself as she did everything else. Clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth – although if it was from disapproval, Matt could not fathom why – and tried on pair after pair of heels, snatching up all in her size that was within her reach, eyes alight with a cruel sort of greed. When she'd exhausted that supply, she sighed heavily and snapped her fingers, annoyed already that her husband had not, once again, foreseen her needs and immediately attended to them.

“Matt! Matt! Those ones! Quickly, quickly, now!"

Obediently, he rushed to get the shoes she wanted, the red pumps that had clearly caught her eye, passing them over only to receive a sharp smack to his shoulder with a heel, although it was by no means intentional: she was only throwing it away when she was done with it.

“Not that one! That one! Get it!"

Sighing, Matt did as he was told, handing over pair after pair of shoes as she tried them all on, strutting about and cocking a hip as if she thought herself the belle of the ball, a runway model striding down the catwalk with long, shapely legs and a look to die for. Each pair of shoes was kicked off in turn, Matt shamefully cleaning up after her, even though he was at least somewhat glad that he was being afforded the ability to clean up after her, hopefully bringing his bill down a little bit.

Hey, a man could dream, right? Even if it was a futile one... The destruction lay around him in the shoe section of the shop for all to see and it would have taken one of extremely dull senses to not understand the full scale of what Qiao had done and, undoubtedly, was capable of.

He lunged for a pair of stilettos – why so many stilettos in one shop? Was that the fashion now? – and caught them, fingers running over their smooth curves and lines as if he loathed the mere thought of putting them down, releasing them from his tender grasp too soon. Those had not been damaged and he carefully replaced them on a shelf, although it may have not been the right shelf: he just hoped he got points for trying, in that instance.

When she'd finished trying on all the shoes she wanted – by the lord, was it over? Was it finally all over? – Qiao stood with her hands on her hips, cheeks puffed out with air as if she was drawing herself up for just the one, final onslaught. Although, if he knew his wife, it would be the very worst one of all.

“Nothing! Nothing good here! You all have bad shoes – bad shoes! Very bad shoes!"

She made it sound as if she was scolding the heels that she so coveted for being what she saw as bad rather than the sales associates, who Matt warranted would have a story and a half to tell their partners and friends on returning home that evening. Once again, he would feature in a story that was often told with an incredulous flourish of the hands, the story of a husband dragged about by his destructive wife who could only see her desire for heels above all else. Even he came second, torn between love and longing, although what those two desires opposed was another question entirely that was for his mind to know and his mind alone.

For she was not done yet with the grand show and leapt onto the very last display of shoes – a table – that she had not yet completely wrecked to beyond belief, dancing and cavorting like a much younger woman. As if she was in a musical, she swung her chosen pair of shoes, the zips tucked up neatly against her ankles, as if they were weapons encasing her soft, delicate feet, toes pointing out the open toe of the black pump with a purple stripe slashed vertically down the side. It was a style for a much younger woman but she didn't care about that as she accurately kicked each and every pair off the table, posing and swinging her leg out in a graceful arc that truly was impressive, if not for the terror she'd caused.

That reign of terror, however, was slowly coming to an end, more because she had become bored of it than anything else. She'd been through everything in the shop that interested her and, really, there were far nicer places to shop with far more expensive shoes that she could destroy too. Her eyes gleamed and Matt gulped. He didn't know whether buying pricier heels or destroying the cheap ones, for she certainly wasn't leaving with her usual haul, was better or worse! It really was one of those things that could change in the blink of an eye.

“These!" She snapped, pointing at a pile of heels that she'd had Matt put to the side during the course of the fitting session. “All of them! My husband! He pay!"

As if she hadn't said that already but it had the desired effect of making all eyes land on him, her husband squirming uncomfortably as he was put in the spotlight, sweating noticeably as he rubbed the back of his sleeve across his damp forehead.

“Ah... Yes..." It was hopeless. “Yes, dear."

And yet he loved the nuance of it, skin tingling pleasurably as he caught her eye, Qiao dropping him a sly wink that was just for him. For she knew what their deal was, what was going on and just what power, what control, she had over him. It may have been sordid to the outside world but, damn it, it was hardly something that needed to concern them, even if the humiliation of being well and truly under her heel, Qiao with a penchant for causing a mighty scene, rang hot and glaring through his whole body from head to toe.

Breathing deeply, Matt groaned in the back of his throat, holding down what he could have said. There were still shopping bags to collect – and what would happen if he lost any of the shoes from them? No, he had to get on that and right away too, or else there'd be hell to pay!

All from his beautiful wife who commanded his entire life and so very much more.

“Excuse me... Sir? Sir, I need you here for a moment."

And, like a trained dog, Matt turned to call as several bags of shoes, including the ones that Qiao had wrecked beyond saleable condition, were pushed towards him, along with a receipt that had a few custom lines added manually to the end. And yet he could not help but read, fingers automatically creeping to his wallet – by this point – it was a trained reaction to him.

Oh no...

Faux Suede Block Heel Pumps - £23.00

Twisted Open-Toe Heels - £23.00

Velvet Ankle Strap Heels - £20.00

Knotted Faux Suede Heels - £23.00

Faux Suede Mules - £23.00

Strappy Open-Toe Heels - £23.00

Studded Translucent Strap Heels - £33.00

Glen Check Mules - £23.00

Low Block Heel Pumps - £20.00

Glen Check Pointed Toe Pumps - £23.00

Faux Leather Ankle-Strap Heels - £23.00

Faux Suede Block Heels, Pink - £20.00

Perforated Knit Stiletto Heels - £25.00

Faux Leather Slingback Heels - £20.00

Faux Leather and Translucent Heels - £20.00

Pointed Toe Faux Suede Boots, Orange - £32.00

Pointed Toe Heels - £20.00

Slingback Stiletto Heels - £23.00

Faux Suede Chunky Heels - £23.00

Faux Patent Leather Striped Trim Boots - £35.00

Crushed Velvet Stilettos - £10.00

Suede Chunky Heels - £25.00

Faux Suede Block Heel Pumps, Black - £25.00

Faux Suede Block Heel Pumps, Neutral - £25.00

Faux Fur Heels - £15.00

Faux Leather Stiletto Heels, Black - £18.00

Faux Leather Stiletto Heels, Brown - £18.00

Faux Leather Stiletto Heels - £28.00

Lace Over-the-Knee Boots, Black - £38.00

Faux Patent Leather Ankle-Strap Heels - £23.00

Faux Suede T-strap Heels, Blue - £11.00

Faux Suede T-strap Heels, Black - £11.00

Faux Suede T-strap Heels, Red - £11.00

Faux Suede T-strap Heels, Pink - £11.00

Faux Patent Leather Crisscross Heels, Baby Blue - £23.00

Faux Suede Caged Chunky Heels, £25.00

Frayed Stiletto Heels, Black - £25.00

Metallic Angle-Strap Stiletto Heels - £28.00

Faux Suede Studded Heels - £25.00

Tweed Ankle Boots - £32.00

Faux Suede Chunky Heels, Brown - £23.00

Caged Lace-up Stilettos - £28.00

Strappy Platform Heels, Purple - £25.00

Studded Faux Leather Boots - £35.00

Shoe display stand, cubes - £40.00

Shoe display rack, swivelling - £95.00

Slanted shoe display - £20.00

Slanted shoe display - £20.00

Slanted shoe display - £20.00

Full height mirror on stand - £95.00

Various light fixtures, estimate - £150.00

Total - £1,453

Matt winced, sliding his gaze away. They waited, nails tapping impatiently on the cash register, just to see whether he was going to pay up easily or cause a fuss. He had no doubt that they would call the police in a heartbeat if he tried to do a runner, even if Qiao was already halfway out the door, hankering and squealing for another coffee from her favourite expensive shop, the remains of the one that she'd had in her hand on entering still dripping down the display pile of shoes, which had no doubt been added to his bill too. He didn't look closely enough to determine the difference between each.

That one would have to go on the credit card.