Yes. That was the plan.

There were no zippers, only the narrow space of the boots to navigate around. If the ankle space was any less slippery, Jen would have had to lubricate it herself, but with one foot in, the amount of effort for the other was already set, so it was on in just another minute. There was just one more tiny detail.

"You forgot to close the ankle strap."

"But they are tight on even without it!" — the girl zapped back in her mind.

The remaining sense in her was telling her not to do it. There was no reason to do it, other than adding one more key to search for. The fit was impeccable, but the toes were quite pointy. Surely, there was going to be a moment when she would prefer them off. There were two halves of a polished metal loop attached to the ankle of each of the boots. They only needed to be pushed together a couple inches, and only then the boots were going to be truly on her.

"A hundred percent noble that you are would not have any problems with putting on her boots properly. As she is expected to."

Jen was still having fun from all of this and yes, the boots felt great. The shaft encasing her down her knees felt very pleasant, and, despite how steep her feet were arched, they were content as well. Perhaps it was not that big of a deal, after all.

"I said. Lock. The fucking. Boots."

*snap* *snap*

"Look at you, harsh mistress."

"By choosing the Hood, you chose a path of higher standard. In time, you won't need any guidance to match it."

Jen stood up in the boots and got over the steppy border of the wardrobe. These boots felt entirely different to stand in. They were lighter and did have a better feeling of the floor in them. She thought she was going to feel the cold with her toes, but even if she was going to feel it sometime, it would not be nearly as problematic as if she were barefoot.

The lightness and tightness as a whole were also making Jen feel more feminine. Much like the hood, it felt great just to rub them over and over. It was so much fun, but so distracting that in a couple minutes, she already forgot where the red wardrobe was. This and her more distant memories of the hall's layout were the only clues of her whereabouts she had left.

No amount of looking around was helping. Trying to poke eyeholes in the hood with her fingers only made her hornier. Her priority switched from actually searching for the key to finding a flat surface to live her next orgasm through on.

"Umm, Mistress, can you tell me where I am?" — the girl made a proper request to her voice.

"Hmm, were they scarlet red or somewhere towards burgundy? Don't quite remember."

"I see you're busy."

"I think relieving yourself is a great idea, and you should try harder to arrange that instead of chatting with your better self. Yes, I mean, just catwalk straight until you find it!"

"Catwalk straight..." — after a few mincing steps without even touching the ground with her pointy heels, it was a different kind of movement. Suddenly, she went for it! Wide, forceful steps and full body involvement! She was quickly moving both forward and towards an imminent orgasm. It was both heavenly and torturous to not be able to have it right here, right now!

Several eternities later, she bumped into some kind of plastic surface. It was a large open box, and Jen did not waste another second before falling into it, like a star jumping into the crowd to carry them with their leather gloves, all while seeing stars herself from the pleasure pulsing throughout her.

***

Like any show, this one had to end. Jen slowly regained what remained of her senses, and started to touch her way into understanding her surroundings. It was a large clothes box with softness as the criteria of belonging. More or less all common fabrics (as well as common for this mall, of course) were represented in some kind. The plastic of the box was bendable, but strong, and its lid was open, conveniently enough for her at the time.