The heels always stay on.
No matter how naked you get, how tied up you become. No matter what I write on you, or how messed up your hair is, the heels stay on. Why? Hang on… I’ll have to give that one a think.
It’s because they’re heels, right? The purpose is to emphasise the calves, accentuate the rear, and so they’re an objectification tool, first and foremost.
No, that’s not quite right.
They’re also a platform. A stage, for the woman who wears them. They lend you a few inches, bring you to a closer level to the men that so dominate the workplace, or did (although lets not kid ourselves, the ‘workplace’, whatever it may be, is still pretty male-dominated), when heels were first brought in. So the heels go a way of striking that imbalance back in favour of the woman.
Still not quite right.
Oh, how obvious.
It’s both. They build you up but at the same time bring you down. Oh, delicious dichotomy, incredible contradiction. Terrific tension. Forgive the alliteration, but I always get a little thrill when I find a tasty little paradox at the core of something. Conflicting forces, working to create something wholly unique.
So that’s why the heels stay on while I fuck you, tie you up, and call you a little whore. Next time don’t ask questions you don’t want long answer to.
