"Ahhh, the perfect capture," Ms. Mayagi softly sighed as she stared out at her lone, beautiful customer, "for The Perfect Fit." The Perfect Fit was the name of Ms. Mayagi's shoe store in a small, less frequented shopping mall in the older part of the city. The stylish shop owner did not sell many shoes, but it really didn't matter, because she really wasn't in the shoe selling business. Ms. Mayagi made a handsome living selling unique, specially crafted, erotic merchandise. The items were unique because no factory could ever duplicate their production. The items were specially crafted by Ms. Mayagi herself, using ancient potions of deep, evil magic. And the items were erotic because they were all made from beautiful young women, most of whom were lured back to her shoe store after hours with promises of riches, or drugs, or sex. Occasionally a future object d'art would stumble into the store at an inopportune time, never to leave again - at least in human form. But these random subjects were hardly of the caliber Ms. Mayagi chose during her nocturnal female foraging.
But sometimes something special happened. The right person in the right place at the right time. The perfect capture. That's what happened this morning. And that's why the store owner gazed into her shop from her storage room on one of the most stunning young women she had ever seen. And literally licked her lascivious lips.
The young woman sat in a chair waiting for Ms. Mayagi to bring her a white pump in size 5 ½. She had beautiful straight black hair, long and luminous. Two yellow earrings dangled from her perfect ear lobes, matching exactly the color of her bright yellow dress and her yellow open-toed heels. Her legs were sheathed in a nude shade of pantyhose, with a sheer and shiny hue that only enhanced her perfectly shaped limbs. She fiddled with her white purse, then looked around with an air of expectancy and curiosity. She wore the same smile that was on her face when she had approached the shop owner moments before.
The south wing of the mall was silent and empty when Ms. Mayagi had walked up to her front door with key in hand. The first hour of business was almost always quiet, since the few surrounding stores didn't open until later in the morning. Ms. Mayagi usually used the time to check inventory, sift through her mail, review inquiries and orders, and, if she had been fortunate enough to have feminine company the night before, finish a transformation or prepare a new 'product' for shipping. This had been a quiet week, however, so Ms. Mayagi had planned to fix a nice cup of tea and relax.
But as she put the key in
the lock, she felt a slight tapping on her shoulder. She turned to face
the vision of loveliness that now sat waiting to try on a new pair of shoes.
The attractive young woman apologized for appearing so early, but said
she was from out of town, knew no one in the area, and needed to pick up
some accessories for an appointment later that day. Needless to say, Ms.
Mayagi was overjoyed to welcome the young woman to her shop, particularly
since there was no one in the south wing to see the beautiful girl make
her fateful entrance into The Perfect Fit. The shop owner discreetly locked
the door behind her as her early customer began looking at the leather
pumps. The young woman found a style she liked, and asked to try on a size
As Ms. Mayagi stared at her newest acquisition, the young woman crossed her stockinged legs. The store owner moaned softly at the sound of nylon rubbing against nylon, and then saw her customer reach down and unstrap the shoe on her suspended foot. As she did that, her lovely stockinged foot slipped halfway out of the shoe, and the shoe dangled precariously as the girl rocked her leg up and down. Ms. Mayagi pulled one foot out of her black heels, and rubbed it against the black nylon of her other pantyhosed leg, her level of pleasure rising in anticipation of working her evil magic on the beautiful customer. How could someone exude such innocence and such sexuality at the same time?
It suddenly occurred to the
shop owner that in her sensual reverie, she had given no thought to what
she would do with the young woman. So Ms. Mayagi looked quickly around
the shop and storeroom. What should she transform her beautiful victim
into? So many, many choices . . . .
Ms. Mayagi was relieved to see that her beautiful customer did not seem frustrated or hurried. The attractive, middle aged proprietor needed to be prompt, but deliberate, in making this important decision. The perfect capture deserved the perfect transformation. The Perfect Fit was not just the name of the store. It was Ms. Mayagi's goal each time she worked her magic on a beautiful young victim.
Sometimes, the decision was
an easy one. The store owner ran her hand over the smooth, hardened breasts
of an ivory, custom made shoe horn she had recently made. The young woman
had been a bit on the heavy side, but her low cut t-shirt had revealed
the tantalizing cleavage of a lovely bust. A quick jab of a needle dipped
in a special shrinking and hardening potion had resulted in the lovely
figurine that had been molded to the top of this shoehorn. A wealthy Pakistani
merchant who had purchased many similar shoehorns for his personal collection
was currently on safari, but would no doubt purchase Ms. Mayagi's handiwork
when he returned. But, reducing that lovely creature seated in her store
to such a diminutive state would not be a perfect fit.
As the young woman's beautiful nyloned leg moved rhythmically up and down, Ms. Mayagi thought of the many custom made pantyhose forms she had created in the past. That transformation was usually reserved, however, for long legged beauties whose upper body or countenance were lacking. Like that blonde exotic dancer a few months back who seemed to be all legs from her feet to her neck. Those legs now model stockings in a small boutique on Rodeo Drive, the hardened plastic a flesh-colored shade the store owner swears she has never seen on a mannequin before.
Remembering that transformation, Ms. Mayagi had a selfish thought. Perhaps she should transform the girl into a mannequin for her own shop, and not sell her. How wonderful it would be to touch those beautiful legs each and every day. She could even start selling a small line of hosiery, just to be able to change her beautiful doll each day with a different silky touch. No. No, that wouldn't be right. To make such fluid beauty unfeeling and unmoving. No, this girl deserved to be out in the world, seeing new places, both surrounded by beauty, and making beautiful the ordinary things that surround her. Ms. Mayagi felt the leather pumps she held in her hand, and looked once more at the customer's beautiful shimmering legs extending out from her bright yellow dress. And it came to her. Of course.
She quickly went to her desk, and retrieved her unfilled order file. After leafing through a few orders, she came to the one she was looking for. A famous British model, soon to begin filming a sexy spy movie, had heard about Ms. Mayagi's special handiwork, and was inquiring about a pair of thigh high leather boots. In yellow. Ms. Mayagi returned to the storage area doorway and looked once more on her perfect capture. Then she quickly read the inquiry once again. Then she smiled. Yes. It would definitely be the perfect fit.
The shop owner walked to
her potions table, mixed the appropriate ingredients, and then pulled a
small pin out of a female shaped pin cushion (a former college student
who had worked part-time for Ms. Mayagi, but wanted a more permanent position
at the store). She carefully dipped the pin in the potion, making sure
it was thoroughly soaked, then put the pin in the box containing the size
5 ½ white pumps.
"I think I finally found what we're looking for," she called out as she approached the lovely young woman. The young girl smiled, happy she would be getting what she wanted. And Ms. Mayagi smiled as well, for much the same reason. And now, it was time to make a pair of boots. Ms. Mayagi knelt down on a stockinged knee and placed the box containing the white pumps and the potion-dipped needle beside her. "I'm so sorry that it took so long. I hope you didn't mind waiting."
"Oh, no, not at all," the beautiful customer answered. "In fact, I'm kind of glad. It gave me a moment to rest."
The shop owner chuckled. "Ahh, you busy young people. So full of energy, rushing from place to place. And then to say you're tired. Tired is for people my age." Ms. Mayagi held out her hand, and the customer placed her dangling foot in it. The shop keeper slowly removed the untied shoe, and held the small, soft, perfect nylon foot in her hand, trying not to tremble as she did. Once more she hesitated, thinking there must be some way to keep this beauty close forever.
"Don't be silly," said the customer, oblivious to Ms. Mayagi's covetous grasp on her foot, or the shop keeper's ultimate plans for her whole body. "You are still very young, and very attractive. And I am probably older than I look."
Ms. Mayagi chuckled once more, and even blushed a bit at the girl's compliment. She did really like this young woman, and realized that it was best to be done with the transformation. She had turned women into shoes before - once she had even turned two cheerleaders into suede pumps at virtually the same time - and the shrinking, stretching, shape changing process did look a little painful. But that was for shoes. Thigh high boots were much larger and longer, so the process should be shorter and less painful. She decided to humor the attractive girl while she reached into the box for the needle. A quick jab through the nylon in the bottom of her foot, and the dark haired beauty would begin to change into yellow leather before her eyes.
"Older than you look, eh?" She said, reaching into the box to pull out one of the shoes, and the transforming needle. "How old are you? Twenty? Maybe twenty two?"
"No, actually I'm nearly
one hundred and thirty years old." She said it so matter-of-factly that
Ms. Mayagi dropped the shoe and the needle back in the box, and stared
at the customer.
"What an odd thing to say." The shop keeper said, looking for some hint of bemusement in the beautiful girl, but seeing none.
"Not really. It is completely true," the girl said, and while Ms. Mayagi was still in a state of surprise, she reached down and unstrapped her other yellow shoe.
The store owner was trying to regain her composure, and get back on track with what she had come out to do. She went back to humoring the apparently unbalanced young woman, while she felt for the special needle. "Well, then, what's your secret?" She said, finally feeling the thin steel with her hand, and ready to end this ridiculous conversation with one quick, sharp jab.
"Well, long ago it was silk robes and scarves, then silk stockings. By mid-century the stockings were nylon. And now, of course, the secret is pantyhose." Before Ms. Mayagi could jab the woman's foot with the potion tipped needle, the young beauty pulled her nyloned foot from the shop owner's grasp, and lifted the other foot from its shoe. She placed both nude shaded feet on Ms. Mayagi's black nyloned knees, and began to rub. The shopkeeper was so surprised that the needle flew from her hands, and she fell back. The customer stood above her, continuing to rub with one foot, while lifting Ms. Mayagi's skirt with the other, exposing even more nyloned leg. Now the rubbing was getting faster and faster, and the older looking woman moaned with fear and ecstasy. Ms. Mayagi felt herself getting lighter and lighter, and glanced down to see a dark shade of something entering the customer's light shaded foot and moving up her leg. As her head began to swim, the shop owner realized that the dark shade of something was, in fact, her own transforming body. The last thing she saw before her thighs turned to dark smoke and her vision blurred was the customer's nude shaded legs turning to a hue of darker tan.
"You see," the customer said. "I found out I needed white pumps for my interview, and darker hosiery. You've provided both."
At last, Ms. Mayagi face and hair turned to dark vapor, and was absorbed into the young customer. The young woman slipped on the white pumps, put her yellow shoes in the box, and then looked down at her new accessories.
"Ahh, the perfect capture,"
she said, then wiggled her toes in her new shoes and ran her hand along
her new dark tan pantyhose, "for the perfect fit."