I was worried. I knew that my daughter Jane had been getting out of hand for some time. She had been living with me since for the last three years, after her Mother past away. Those had been difficult times. At first, I put it down to the shock of losing her mother, but as time went on, it became more obvious that Jane was deliberately looking for trouble. She had been brought home by the police more times that I can remember, mostly for causing disturbances in the neighbourhood, or in the shopping precinct nearby. Try and tell her to be in at a certain time, and she would just storm out of the house, wandering in at any time of the day of night.

The problem was how do you control an out of control 13 year old who knows that you can' t smack a child and has more idea about her rights than a crown court barrister? The slightest hint of any discipline and she would normally lock herself in her room and not come out, or walk out of the house vowing never to come back. Of course she did, whenever she got hungry, which was often. She was eating so much junk food that she was putting on weight, although it was difficult to spot under the baggy tee shirts, which went with her ever present trainers and track suit bottoms. At a time when most girls are becoming more and more conscious of their appearance, she was becoming more and more slovenly. I had to do something for her sake.

The initial idea for re-educating Jane came on one of those rare occasions when we were out together. We were walking down Oxford Street on a shopping trip (the only time she let me accompany her was when she needed my money) In front of us was a young woman of about twenty who was having trouble with her shoes. It was the height of the heel which was about four inches which was troubling her: and it was clear from the way that she was tripping up and stumbling that she was very uncertain on them. Jane saw me staring at then, and happened to pass comment that she could never been seen dead in shoes like that. They must hurt and she would hardly be able to stand in them, let alone walk. 'Bingo!' I had the answer to this precocious child. I think I must have just mumbled something in reply as we past her by, but can t remember because my mind was already working overtime on an idea to curb her ways.

I went shopping the day after by myself. I started on Oxford Street, dodging in and out of the various shoe shops. I knew exactly what I was looking for, a high heeled shoe that, when put on, would stay on. Sadly, all that I found were the normal high street lines, all of which had a maximum four-inch block heel. Very few were fitted with ankle straps and even they could be undone easily. I realised that this was not going to be as easy as I though. After four hours of fruitless searching I decided to head home, turning off Oxford Street towards Piccadilly Circus and the tube station. This took me through the streets of Soho, a location that I normally tried to stay out of.

The area was just as I remembered it, seedy and uninviting but I noticed that it did have, interspersed with the book shops and bars, a few clothes shops selling more fetishist based items. Among these was a shop that had in the window, all sorts of weird and wonderful fashions, including some of the highest heeled shoes that I had ever seen. Black patent court shoes six inches high adorned the window display. This was not quite what I was looking for, as they could still be kicked off, but it was worth a further look and I stepped inside. The shop was dark and empty, save for the disinterested shop assistant at the far end. The middle of the floor was taken up with all sorts of rubber and leather items. The walls were adorned with all types of shoes from platforms to boots and stiletto spikes.

Hidden amongst the various court shoes was precisely what I was looking for. It was a pair of five-inch heels of soft black leather, with a thick leather strap, which wrapped around the ankle. What made these entirely suitable was the securing method, which comprised of two padlocks on each ankle. The price was slightly above what I would normally want to pay but in the circumstances it was worth every penny. Jane wore a size three shoe so I decided to ask for a size higher so that I would have less difficulty in forcing them on her bare feet in the event of a fight.

The look on the shop assistant?s face when I said that they were for a thirteen-year old was a sight to behold. The shoes stayed in my wardrobe for the next few days, but it wasn't too long before I had the need to use them. She had been out late again, only to be brought home by the local constabulary after having painted the town red, literally. The graffiti, I was told, would take an age to clear up but no charges were being made on this occasion. I decided to wait until morning before taking action, as she went to her room to sulk anyway. I was waiting for the sound of her getting up the next morning. I heard Jane making her way to the bathroom about ten o'clock, her normal time of rising during school holidays. Her usual "modus operandi" was to throw on a tee shirt (normally the one she had worn the previous night) and jeans before going to the bathroom for a quick dab around with the flannel. While she was in there, I made my move, hiding the shoes under her bed and then sitting myself down to await her return.

"What are you doing in my room?" she snarled as she set foot through the door. You could see the anger in her eyes that I had invaded her space.

"I want to talk to you about your behaviour of late," I replied, trying not to show any weakness. "Sit down, now!" With a huff, she threw herself onto the bed lengthways, nearly kicking me in the process. Her feet were in a convenient grabbing position anyway, I thought to myself. "I just think that it was about time that your attitude was changed, so as of now we're in a whole new ball game. You misbehave, and you will be punished.

"How do you intend to do that then?" You could see the disobedience in her eyes. With that I wrapped an arm around both of her ankles, using the other hand to grab the belt which I had with me to loop around her legs to avoid her kicking me, which she tried very hard to do. With her legs immobilised to some degree I reached under the bed and groped for one of the shoes. "What the hell do you think you're doing," she screamed at me, as I lifted her legs in the air, making sure that her upper body stayed on the bed. I knew that she could pack an almighty punch and wished to avoid it. The first shoe slid on fairly easily, since she wasn't expecting it. She couldn't see what I was up to, and I was shielding the view of her feet from her. All she knew was what she could feel as her feet were imparted into an unnatural arc. Fumbling for one of the padlocks, I quickly wrapped the strap around her slim ankle, listening to it click into place.

By this time, she had stopped screaming blue murder and was desperately trying to wriggle free from my grasp, and that of the belt, which held her ankles secure. Then I started on the other foot. It was a struggle, mainly because she got wise to the fact that curling her toes up made life more difficult. It seemed an eternity before the faint 'click' of the padlock signalled my victory. The second locks on each ankle were merely added security. Finally, I undid the belt which secured her ankles and threw her legs away from me while getting up quickly and making a move for the door. Instantly, she sprung from the bed, only to fall on her knees as the unfamiliar arch of her feet took effect. Taking stock of her senses, she swung her legs from under her to examine her feet.

"Get these things off me now," She demanded; tugging desperately at the padlocks which held her ankles in an indefatigable vice-like grip. I suggested that the first thing she needed to do was to calm down and get off the floor, which she reluctantly did, hauling herself off her knees onto the bed without putting any pressure on her feet. I then started to explain the rules.

"This", I started, ?is how you will be kept out of trouble in future. From now on, if I have any trouble, you will be put into these shoes for a period that I will decide. Dependent on the severity of the misbehaviour you will spend anything up to a day wearing them. For now, since you caused a considerable amount of damage last night, you can spend the next 14 hours locked in them or until you go to bed."

"But what do you expect to achieve by this?" she questioned. "I mean I can hardly stand in these things let alone walk. And what are my friends going to think of me if I start showing up in these?"

"Precisely my point, Jane. If you can't walk, then you can't be chasing around the estate until God knows what hour causing trouble. I would suggest that you have some serious thinking to do from now on. You have to make a choice between your freedom and some responsibility. One goes hand in hand with the other. If you don't start acting responsibly, then I shall continue to lock those shoes on your feet so that your activities are curtailed. I'm sorry, but you've left me no other option."

With that I left her to her contemplation, which lasted all of 30 seconds before she started stamping on the floor, each stamp normally followed by an "ouch" as the heels pushed up into her feet. That phase lasted for about 15 minutes and then there was silence. Hunger took over about midday, and she finally decided to leave the sanctuary of her room for something to eat. Watching her was a comical sight. She made it to the door without falling only by grasping both sides of the door. From there, she edged her way along the wall, trying desperately to keep her weight off her feet. The stairs became too much for her though, and she slid down them on her backside. She glared at me as I laughed at her efforts but said nothing. Lunch, for that was what it turned out to be, was eaten in silence. It was plain to see, however, that she was having difficulty balancing a tray on her lap with her knees held up so high. Ever so often she would stare at them, and then at me, then return to her food.

The afternoon must have passed very slowly for her. She crawled back to her room after lunch (literally), slamming the doors behind her as she went. Although she stayed in there, I could hear from time to time feint and very erratic footsteps from upstairs as she tried to come to terms with her changed circumstances. One thing I had learnt about Jane was that she was defiant enough not to allow things to heat her. It was still a surprise to me, though, when she reappeared about six managing to walk, albeit very gingerly down to the stairs. She had clearly been practising. The look on her face this time was more one of pain and apprehension, fearful of falling on the stairs. Because of the small size of her feet, they were held almost upright by the arch of the shoe. Her toes were bent severely where the sole flattened out. She made it as far as the settee and flopped down, breathing a sigh of relief and spent the next five minutes massaging her calves and ankles to try and alleviate some of the muscle tension.

Finally she broke her silence. "Dad, when are you going to take these off me?"

"As I told you, I will take them off when it's time for bed. I'm sorry, but you've pushed me to the limit once too often. I was at my wit's end as to what to do with you. Nothing I ever said and did made any difference to your attitude and that has got to change before you get much older. Otherwise, before long you will find yourself not looking at a caution but detention for some of the things that you get up to. I'm just worried for you."

"But these things hurt dreadfully. I've got pins and needles in my feet and I can hardly walk. This is no way to treat me."

"Well I suggest that you remember how you feel now, the next time you think about causing trouble. I guessed when I bought them they would hurt, and I knew that you would have difficulty walking because you've told me before that you don't like heels. That's why I bought such a high heel, to stop you from roaming. I would suggest that you stay off your feet for the rest of the evening and watch some television. I'll make you some tea." We sat there for the rest of the evening, occasionally talking but most of the time just watching television. She did get up once to go to the toilet, and I was impressed with her being able to handle the sky-high heels after such a short time. It was very ginger movements; almost a teeter, but she did manage to stay upright and looked terrific in them. They were much better than her normal training shoes One incident that did happen that night I think reinforced the fact that she was being punished. I had forgotten that Mike next door had asked to borrow a few tools to do some repairs and I had arranged for him to call round about eight to pick them up. I was only a few foot from the door when the bell rang, and Jane had no chance to hide or make a run for it (not that she could have). She had to just sit there, desperately trying to hide her feet but with no way to do it. Even curling her legs up meant that the bottoms of her jeans rode up her legs to reveal the length of the heels and the two shiny padlocks that secured them to her ankles. Mike didn't say a word about them, but you couldn't help but notice his glances over to where she sat every now and again, focusing in on her feet.

Jane meanwhile was going redder and redder but dared not get up for fear of falling over and really embarrassing herself. You could see that she couldn't wait for him to go. What Mike told his wife that night I would love to know, but I did notice a couple of weeks later that his wife was wearing stilettos for the first time since I had known them. I kept my word and got the keys to the padlocks at ten o'clock precisely, handing them to Jane so that she could unlock the straps, making her hand the padlocks and keys to me. She literally tore the shoes of her feet and immediately started to massage and rub her toes where they had been crushed for so long: Her ankles had a broad red mark where the strap had been rubbing against them. As she made her way upstairs, I noticed that she was walking still on her toes, not able to put her heels down because of the way her calf muscles had been stretched during the fourteen hours that they had been one position'.

I must have made an impression this time though, because for the first time in a long time, she actually wished me "goodnight" as she climbed the stairs. Those shoes saw use a few times in the next months, mainly for small misdemeanours on her part. I got the impression though, from the way she handled getting about in her heels when in punishment that she had been practising secretly. I normally kept the shoes in my bedroom wardrobe when they weren't being used and she knew where they were, although she wouldn't dare try and get rid of them.

My suspicions were confirmed after I secretly marked the position of them before going to work one morning. Checking later on, they had been moved and returned to not quite the same position. What she had been doing was waiting for me to leave, and then wearing them about the house, I suspect without the straps secured so that they could be slipped of if anyone called or she wanted to go out. That was typical of Jane's attitude. Nothing would ever beat her for too long. The one thing that she would not do was to allow her friends to see her when she was in them. The only person besides myself who had ever seen her in her heels was Mike from next door and that was only the once, although I suspect from the number of times that he called round now that was not for the want of trying.

It was about three months later, in July that an interesting twist in the story came about. Jane had calmed down considerably since I had started her new punishment regime, but every once in a while she went off the rails. Unfortunately for her, she chose to do it on the afternoon of tile end of term dance at the school. I knew that she had a date for that night with one of the school heartthrobs, and I also knew it was only a small amount of damage to some lockers in school, but it was significant enough that she still needed to be taught the lesson. I returned home after a phone-call from the school, getting in about ten minutes before Jane.

She knew what was coming before I opened my mouth, because the shoes were on the arm of the chair next to me. She pleaded with me for half an hour not to put them on her, because she desperately needed to go to the party that night but to no avail. They went on her all the same. The click of the padlocks took on far more significance to her on this occasion as it left her in a dilemma. If she didn't go she would be standing up the best date she had ever had. But if she did go, she may have to admit to her friends about the unusual punishment that was being inflicted on her. Instead of screaming and shouting as she normally did, she confided her feelings to me, mainly as a final plea for clemency. I knew that she desperately wanted to go, but there was no way that I was letting up now, just when I has started to make an impression on her, so I decided to try to guide her instead.

"Look," I started, "You know as well as I do that you can handle those shoes as well as any grown up. There is nothing stopping you from going to the dance tonight wearing them?.

"But everyone will see the padlocks and start making fun of me," She pleaded. She did have a point on that score I accepted.

"All you have to do is wear something long enough that the straps don't show. They are high enough up your ankles. How about wearing that black jump suit that I bought for you last winter. That would look nice and would certainly be long enough. Go and try it on, and than have a think about it. If you want to go to this dance that is the only way that you are going to manage it".

She slowly withdrew to her bedroom, emerging an hour later wearing the jump suit I had suggested. For the first time ever, she had taken time to put on some make-up as well, although where she got it from I don't know. I had to admit that she looked absolutely stunning for a thirteen-year old. Apart from the fact that she was slightly plump, mainly because of all the junk food that she ate, she could almost have passed for a model. Her brunette hair shone, she definitely looked a picture.

?I?ve thought it over, and I wanted to go. You were right. I wish I didn't have to wear these heels, but I suppose that I did do wrong today and I know that you've got to punish me. I guess that a lot of girls will be wearing high heels tonight, but I've taken precautions to make sure that those padlocks don't show:? She knelt down and lifted up the hem of the trouser leg to show me what she had done. I had never thought of Jane as dim, but this was a stroke of genius. She had sewn the trouser leg to the ankle straps, leaving enough slack in her trousers for when she sat down so that she didn't stretch the knees. When she stood, the legs retained a slightly baggy look, which was very popular. All you could see of her shoes were the toes, and about four inches of the spiked heel, peeking seductively from beneath the material hem of her trousers. I dropped her off at the school gates, with a promise to pick her up at ten o'clock when the party finished.

I had expected her to be in a foul mood by the time I returned, but was astonished to find her almost surrounded by boys, not only a few from her own year who I recognised, but others from the couple of years above her. She was chatting and sharing jokes with them as I pulled up, letting her get in to the car in her own time after a particularly long embrace with one of them, who I knew to be the boy that she had arranged to go out with that night. As she got into the car, she even leant over a kissed me on the cheek, something that she had not done since she was about five. She was absolutely bubbling.

"I take it that you've had a good time then?" fishing to find out what had happened.

"Absolutely, I've never been so popular with boys. It was the high heel's that did it, I'm certain. When I walked into the room in these stilettos ever boy?s head in the place turned. You should have seen the faces on some of the girls to. It was all that most of them could talk about for most of the night, even the ones who were wearing high platforms. They all wanted to know how I could walk in them, and a few asked to try them on, which of course I couldn't let them do. I must have been asked to dance by most of the boys at the dance, and James loved them. I think he secretly has a thing about high heels. He kept dropping things and having to pick them up, just so that he could have a closer look. The only thing is my feet ache like fury, with all the dancing I've been doing. I'll be glad to take them off"

Clearly she had made a few new friends and that alone made me happy, since it may mean that she could get away from the troublemakers that always caused her problems. I was starting to be convinced that Jane was not a bad child, but mislead by the company that she kept. I let her out of her shoes as soon as we got home, having to first cut out the stitching that held them to her trousers. She went through the normal procedure of massaging her feet and toes, before picking up the shoes again and looking thoughtfully at them.

"Dad, can you buy me a pair of shoes like this, but without the ankle strap," she asked. "Now that you I know I can go out in them, and can walk normally in them, they are not much of a punishment anyway. You're going to have to think of something else from now on for me. But I would love to have a pair that I can wear out without having to worry about the padlocks showing. You'll admit that they do make them look a bit over the top."

I said that I would think about it, which I did that night. She was right; I would have to find a new way of punishing her. At the same time, I did like to see her in high heels myself and tonight had done wonders for her self-esteem. I wasn't prepared to blow that now, so I decided to take her with me on Saturday and visit the shop where I had first bought the shoes. The first problem of course was would they allow a child into the store.

"No problem", I was reassured by the man who answered the phone when I explained that my daughter wanted a pair of high heels. "We don't encourage children since some of our clients are uncomfortable trying on our more explicit garments with them around we are still primarily classed as a clothes shop. We want to keep in that way so we keep away from any links with the other Soho venues. What I suggest is that we open at ten o'clock and you aim to get here about then. The rest of Soho doesn't open until eleven so we get very few customers before mid-day. That way you'll have plenty of time to browse as well."

And so we set off early on Saturday morning. Jane had even chosen to wear a blouse and skirt, a combination that she only ever wore to school. The shop was exactly as I remembered it, in a dingy corner of Brewer Street. Only the Market traders and customers were about at this time of day. The book-shops and bars were all closed and shuttered. It was just after ten when we arrived and the lights were on so I pushed on the door, noticing as I went in the 'Under New Management' sign on the window next to it. Instead of the previous occupant a young lady of about twenty-five rose from behind the counter.

"Good morning" she called down the shop. "You must the chap who called about some shoes for his daughter. The Manager told me to expect you yesterday so I got here on time for a change. I'm Michelle and I'll see what I can do for you both. It's very unusual to have such a young girl in here shopping for herself."

I was impressed by the warm welcome, but not half as impressed as with the person it was coming from. Now she had moved away from the counter into the light, I could only admire her figure and style. Michelle was about five foot ten with her heels on, very slim built and wearing a short sleeved patterned cotton dress which came down to her knees. Her legs were shod in a pair of knee length cowboy boots, which had about a four-inch stacked wooden heel and she wore a scarf around her neck. Around her waist was a wide silvered steel belt, which served to accentuate a waistline that could not have been more than eighteen inches in diameter. It was held in place by a metal pin on a chain in the front which passed through what would once have been a hinge, and I assumed that it must have been hinged at the back to allow her to get into it. I could only stand there and complement her on her outfit, looking desperately for adjectives to describe it.

"Thank you" she smiled, "it's one of my favourite and more comfortable outfits for work. The manager likes me to wear items that we stock during the week, but he's not here today so I decided to improvise. Now, why don't you let your daughter she fancies, I take it she won't want anything too high??

"On the contrary," I had already taken a liking to this young girl, and so left Jane to have a poke around while I gave Michelle a potted history of how Jane had come to want to wear high heels at all. "So you see," I concluded. "After the success at the dance last week, she wants to wear them a bit more often, and you're the only place I know that sells anything remotely like them.

"That's very interesting, I've never heard of a girl being punished like that before. I know that in the old days young girls were forced to wear corsets but never high heels as a punishment. It's obviously worked though, judging from what I've seen she seems to be a very polite and quiet girl. What size does she take by the way? We run a little short on shoes below a size four, most of the fetish shoe manufacturers reckon that the foot is to small to withstand the heel arch."

Thinking back to when I had first bought her shoes, those were a size four, although I had bought a size large to accommodate her bare feet. Now she was wearing tights, but her feet had probably grown as well. "I think she probably will need a size four now."

"That's fine then," Michelle replied. "We have size four and five in almost all our stock because it's such a popular size. That and size nine for the men," she added mischievously. She got up and wandered over to Jane, who was browsing though the various racks of shoes, occasionally picking one up and checking the heels.

I decided to leave them to it and started to wander through the rest of the store, just out of interest. I started flicking through the rows of mysterious garments made out of materials such as rubber, leather and PVC, some simple dresses, others more extreme and missing parts that normal clothing would have covered. My quiet contemplation was broken by a voice from across the shop.

"What do you think of these, dad? I turned round to see that Michelle was bending down to fit a pair of shoes to Jane's feet. They were a pair of black patent lace-up shoes with thin and astoundingly long heels. They were probably a full inch higher than she the other shoes that she was used to, "these one's I really like, although I don't' know what they're like to walk in yet. I was thinking. Can I buy two pairs today please, one for now and one to practice walking in." She passed me one of those smiles, which will normally melt any father's heart and chequebook.

"Let's see if you can manage in them first," interrupted Michelle before I could answer. "Come on, up you get and let's see if you can make it to the mirror over there. Then you can see what they look like with you standing in them."

She stood a bit unsteadily, but after a few seconds found her balance and started to walk tentatively towards the mirror taking shuffling steps of about six inches at a time. Every few feet, a heel would topple over and she would have to stop and regain her balance, but she made it to the mirror eventually. She stood in front of it, knees straight and did a couple of slow turns, looking at the shoes from all angles. She even managed to lift up a foot at a time, balancing on one slender heel and the tips of her other foot, using her hand to steady herself on the top of the mirror.

"These look absolutely brilliant" she beamed, ?and look, I can even stand up straight in them!?

I had to admit that they did look good on her. Michelle was slightly more expressive.

"You have a very unusual daughter there. Most women wouldn't have even dared to try those on. They can't stand the thought of wearing high heels. Your daughter can not only manage them, but seems unable to resist them. She has a very rare ability there. Even I struggle in those, and I only wear them about once a week."

I dragged myself away from the sight of my daughter in six-inch heels and turned to Michelle.

"You wear them as well do you," I asked.

"Oh yes, mainly in work." As I explained, the manager likes me to wear our stock when in work. He sets out what I am going to wear each day and provided it's not too outrageous I've not got a problem. He knows that I won't go topless for example. Every week or so he makes me wear six-inch heels or a pair of platform shoes, normally with a hobble skirt. In some of his outfits I can only just move. He also does a made to measure service, which occasionally comes up with new designs so I'm very often his guinea pig, finding any problems with a new idea before he has it manufactured. I don't mind though, as he pays me a reasonable wage and in addition, I can have up to three thousand pounds worth of stock each year. I know that I would only buy the shop up anyway, and he knows that he gets the free publicity when I wear his outfits to parties. That's where a lot of his business comes from."

Jane had managed to get back from the mirror without further incident and had started undoing the laces of the shoes. After what Michelle had just said, I could hardly refuse, and so agreed that she could have a second pair, provided that they were of a reasonable height that she could walk in normally.

"I'm not having you teetering down the street like that just yet. Remember you're still only just turned fourteen." Jane went back to her search with Michelle assisting, while I went back to looking back through the clothing. Something that Michelle had just said had sparked an idea. I was aware of whispering behind me, but tried to ignore it, leaving Jane alone to make her own decision. One thing I was very conscious of was not to be accused of forcing Jane into anything she didn't want to without good reason. Between the two of them, they finally came to a decision on a pair of five-inch courts in soft black suede leather. They looked like evening shoes, but I knew that they could be used for any occasion. I also suspected that this wouldn't be the last time I came in here either. You could see the bond that these two were building up in the short time that they had known each other.