Heels Only

May wasted no time. With the result of the small roulette wheel sealing Magi’s fate, he put the artifact away in a drawer with the satisfaction of someone filing an important document.

"What an... essential choice," May had whispered, with venomous irony. The description under the pointer burned in Magi’s mind: "Just Heels."

"Let's go," May ordered, his voice a sharp knife in the office's silence. "Your new uniform awaits."

He led her not to the common changing room, but to a room adjacent to his office, a closet lit with cold light that looked like a macabre theater dressing room. Hanging in the center, above a velvet bench, rested a pair of black, glossy leather stiletto heels. They were the only item of clothing in the room.

"Undress," May commanded, leaning against the doorframe.

Magi began to take off her silk blouse and then the mini-skirt, her fingers cold and clumsy with shame. The icy air of the closet raised goosebumps on her skin. When she hesitated, stuck on the clasp of her bra or the elastic of her panties, May approached.

"Don't waste my time with your false modesty," he murmured, his breath hot and unpleasant next to Magi’s ear.

Without waiting for an answer, May slipped his long, cold fingers under Magi's bra strap, making the clasp snap open with a quick, authoritative click. Then, with deliberate and humiliating slowness, he slid the remaining undergarments down Magi's hips until they fell to her feet. The casual and professional, yet dominant, touch was worse than any aggression.

Magi was left naked. Putting on the heels was the only task left to fulfill the order. As she fastened them, they **** her into a strained posture, arching her back and pushing her hips forward into a pose of absolute vulnerability. The cold metal of the shoe buckles was the only thing her skin touched that wasn't the air.

"Suitable," May murmured, assessing her from top to bottom, picking up the discarded clothes from the floor. "The purity of the punishment. A perfect contrast for the night. Now, go receive your atonement."

He led her hobbling through the hallways toward the photo studio, but the scene they found was not the usual one. The lighting was dim, blood-red. In the center of the room, dominating everything, was a massive roulette wheel. It was not colorful, but made of dark metal and polished wood.

It was divided into segments with engraved pictograms illuminated from within, each one more sinister than the last: a whip, burning candles, clamps, ice cubes, a syringe, metal handcuffs, a dog collar, and an electricity symbol.

About ten guests, all men, stood in a semi-circle around the roulette wheel. They wore dark suits and their faces were in shadow, but their anticipation was palpable, a silent hum in the room. Alexander Vance was among them, slightly apart, with a glass of cognac in his hand and an expression of bored interest.

"Gentlemen," May announced, with an amplified, theatrical voice. "I present to you the protagonist of the night. Her attire, chosen by chance, is Just Heels. Her debt, for an act of rebellion, is about to be settled." He paused, letting their gazes sweep over Magi's exposed body, which trembled on her stilts. "The Roulette of Atonement will decide how. Each spin will be an order. She will obey."

May approached the wheel and spun it hard. The metal groaned, and the segments transformed into a whirlwind of glistening threats. The sound was deep, ominous, that of a heavy mechanism deciding a fate.

Magi held her breath, her eyes glued to the swirling symbols that promised pain and humiliation. The heels stabbed daggers into her feet. That was only the prelude. The true punishment spun before her, slowing down second by second, drawing closer to its verdict.