Loafers, My Mother and 'The Bad Queen'

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My Mother Thought Loafers Were Very Very Bad

As a six year-old, I had noticed guys wearing loafers and thought they looked good in them -- especially with white socks that contrasted against their sleek, simple, uncluttered lines. I didn't know what they were called, so I told my mother what I wanted by drawing a picture of them on my chalkboard. They were easy to draw and she recognized them immediate as the accursed loafers. She proceeded to go into a rant about that not being a good choice because they were such terrible and terrible-for-you shoes. To hear her tell it, no other shoe could compare for how bad it was -- probably because it was designed on purpose to favor style over essential function. Unforgivable!

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Why A Loafer Is A Bad Shoe

• No mechanism to tighten it -- this was the height of folly -- eliminating what she felt was essential functionality merely for esthetics and style.
• With no possibility of adjusting the fit, the grip when brand new was the most they'd ever have, and then from day one they'd proceed to lose it - stretching a bit every time they're worn.
• The expected life cycle of loafers meant that eventually they would stretch so much that they'd be unable to keep a grip on your foot as you walk. So if you couldn't afford to replace them with new shoes, you and everyone else would see them slipping and popping off the heels more and more. And before long they would just be flopping off with every step.
• You bought shoes designed on purpose to be unadjustable in order to be seen wearing a sleeker look. Stylistically cool, but functionally deficient, you must now walk in shoes that are becoming a greater and greater challenge to keep on.
• High style and reduced function means, running is difficult or impossible.
• The looser they get, the more likely to accidentally and unexpectedly fall off, possibly at a most inopportune time (like when you're attempting to jump out of the way of the oncoming bus).
• They're designed for looks and style, not for support and stability. Bad for running or anything athletic. Bad even for walking.
• The looseness of these shoes causes many people to adjust they way they walk, the tension in their feet (especially the toes) in an attempt to keep them on better. This causes foot strain, aches and sometimes real damage (hammertoes).
• It's healthier and less stressful just let them flop off. But to keep them from actually falling all the way off, wearers tend to walk slower, drag their feet and avoid fast, sharp changes of direction.
• They offer no support (unlike my mother's favorite orthopedic shoes which bind and grip your foot like a cast, protecting it from dangers and guiding it to 'grow right'.
  
  Dangling loafer with no arch support
  
  
• They can be an irresistable lure for a bully. Boys especially are prone to 'heel stomping'. It involves following a boy wearing loafers, getting in sync so that you can press the toe of your shoe on the heel of his loafer, so when he takes a step up, his shoe is pressed down and off his foot. If he's walking quickly it can even cause it to come off his foot entirely. Common 'accidental' bullying tactic.
• Regular hazards can be especially bad for loafers -- walk through mud in loafers and they might just get sucked off. Walk up a steep grade, and your foot will slide back -- possibly out of the shoe. Walk down a steep grade and your foot slides forward, away from the heel, lessening the friction from it that keeps it in place, so your loafers will likely flop much more going downhill.
  
  Walking in loafers in mud
  
  
• Heels and soles on loafers (especially cheaper brands) tend to wear, get tilted or slanted or get ground down to two planes that your foot can rock between.
• Crouching nearly always pops a loafer off the heel. Loafer wearers know this and often find excuses to crouch so they can show off their loafer popping off. Yes, loafer wearers play with the characteristic, esp. those that make them stand out from other shoes -- their looseness and ease of slipping off and on.
  
  Crouching, heel pops off
  
  
• Gores are sometimes used in the vamp for added pressure to keep the shoe in place. But sometimes over extended and repeated use, a gore can actually gore into the foot too much -- causing pain and a desire on many wearer's part to cut the gore out -- even though that would reduce grip even more.
• The mythical 'biting trap door' on the inside heel of a loafer. This was something my mother told me about. Maybe she thought that if all the 'logical' reasons for rejecting loafers didn't work, maybe this would scare me. It's a cavity on the inside heel of the shoe designed to cause some skin on the wearer's heel to pooch out and into the cavity when standing on it and pressing down. The cavity is not passive, however. There is a snap or pincher that tries to pinch and hold the skin that pokes out. As the foot rises up, if it can keep pinching on, it will increase the loafer's grip - and in a delightfully sadistic way - by biting the heel of the foot that wears it. This to my knowledge is just myth (it never existed except in my mother's imagination), yet since we're creating the worst bad shoe -- I'd like to figure out a way to add that feature -- and then toy with its intensity.

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Who Suffered With Bad Loafers?

Since they were designed on purpose with no means of tightening them, loafers were an abomination to my mother. How would any sane person purposely design a shoe to be like that? She thought that males who bought and wore loafers were idiotic slaves to style and fashion. And before long they would pay the price for their foolish choice with shoes that got too loose to stay on. So then in order to continue to walk in these shoes once they got loose, guys would have to deal with them flopping off their heels. At first they'd feel am occasional pop off the heel. But as the loafers got looser, the occasional pops and slips would become fairly constant flopping. I could see all this, but was surprised at how 'offended' she was that some guys would actually choose shoes that would inevitably eventually fail at one of their most basic functions. Taking her at face value on these points, I became intensely fascinated by the thought that such dangerous, mean (they bite!) shoes like this actually existed and that guys actually wanted to wear them. Did guys just not know about how bad they were? Maybe some were ignorant -- but still some of them had to know. I guessed those were guys who opted for style and were willing to chance the inconvenience, pain and danger.

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I Wanted Bad Loafers

My mother was in nearly all respects a highly logical, intelligent and rational woman -- but about these shoes, she was way overboard into some pretty weird notions. Anything so mundane that could so easily push my mother into this kind of irrationality was something that definitely got my attention. I was so fascinated by all this that I more desperately than ever wanted a pair for myself -- preferably a pair with the biting trap doors. I watched other guys wearing loafers, wondering if their loafers were biting them. To me, loafers looked so cool, especially when contrasted against white socks. And they looked infinitely better than the goody-goody clunky orthopedic lace-up shoes my mother liked. And to me, all their 'negatives' make them a real fuck-you to the rational, reasonable functional shoes that a good boy would choose. I began to seriously desire and fetishize loafers. And I wanted the baddest kind of them -- mean ones that were loose and flimsy without support and which just got looser and bit me and made me suffer as a victim to style. Yes, I really wanted ones with heel biting traps -- which I never found, unfortunately. I thought it looked cool when guys crouched down and their loafers would pop off their heels.

Cool guy crouching with loafer popped-off

I was mesmerized when a guy with loafers would sit and slide his white socked feet in and out, pop the heel and let it hang and dangle yawning wide off his foot. It was boner time when a guy's loafer fell off accidentally or during shoeplay -- or at times in shoeplay involving another person (never me, unfortunately). I wanted to be the hot guy who suffered for style and fashion. I wanted to be looking good wearing them when new and they had a grip, but even more I wanted to be seen wearing them when they were older, worn down and so loose that continuing to wear them meant I'd be forced to deal with their unstoppable and non-stop flopping. I wanted to be the one who couldn't run in them because they'd fall off; the one in a pickup soccer game who kicked the ball and his loafer went hurling through the air after the ball. I paid fastidious attention to any guy wearing loafers and especially if they were loose and flopping. And I really relished seeing a guy walking in loafers that had totally lost all grip. The heel of his foot would rise up out of a loose loafer unable to even try to stay attached. His heel would arc high above the back half of the shoe which once gripped and followed along, but now hangs down and yawns wide open. After summitting the arc, the heel will then lower back down into its normal standing position in the shoe again. Usually. But sometimes, the foot and shoe get out of sync, and the heel comes down and stumbles on the wrong part of the shoe or on no shoe at all. He might stumble or trip or at the very least make adjustments to overcome his loafer malfunction. It was absolutely thrilling to witness a guy kick a soccer ball hard enough that he also kicked his loafer off at the same time, sending it flying off after the ball and leaving him to hop around on one foot until it could be retrieved.

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The Bad Queen Makes Me Wear Bad Loafers

All my fetishes started when I was still young enough for fairytales to be a part of my fantasies and daydreams. One of these fairytales was set in an imaginary building with a central atrium that extended infinitely downwards past alternating 'good floors' and 'bad floors'. In my fantasy I would jump into the void of the atrium and then land intact and unhurt on a floor which randomly might be a good floor or a bad floor. Good floors were ruled by a 'good queen' and if I landed on one of these good floors, the good queen would provide for me everything I sanely and rationally needed. Everything she provided would be good -- including my clothes and shoes, and she'd encourage me in making only good, rational choices.

But if I ended up on a bad floor, it would be ruled by a 'bad queen' who would subtly but sadistically find ways to punish me and hurt me and encourage me to do things that were bad for me. The bad queen would also dress me in 'bad clothes' and 'bad shoes'. So on those floors, I'd be 'forced' to dress wearing the baddest skin-tight outfits and the baddest of bad shoes - really bad loafers.

The bad queen dressed me in tights and loafers then she put me in bondage.

The good queen was kind of boring and predictable, since good choices are fewer than bad choices (the 'straight and narrow'). Whereas the bad queen had much more discretion and options available to her as the variety of what's bad and what's bad for me is greater than the variety offered by what's good. So my fantasies had me occasionally landing on a good floor (I suppose so I would have something to use as contrast). But far more often (and enjoyably) I would imagine myself landing on a bad floor and having to endure (against my will, of course) the evil, sadism of the bad queen. Being helplessly victimized and forced to do (and wear) things that were 'bad' and bad for me really turned me on. And surprise, surprise many of these bad things turned out to be variations on one or more of the things that upset my parents.

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Things the Bad Queen Would Do To Me

Of course, the bad queen made me dress in the absolute tightest outfits possible. My boy parts could barely be crammed in them and then they bulged out showing off to anyone who could see me that I had a maleness about me that I couldn't hide. Later, when I started getting erections, I fantasized having to endure the embarassment of erections in tight, revealing gear that exposed even more the maleness I could not hide from.

She would also make me wear various loafers -- and do things that caused them to wear down prematurely, get stretched out, degraded and less capable and functional as footwear. Or she'd make me do things wearing loafers that they're not especially adept at. Oh, but they looked sexy as hell. Sleek, minimal, with no functional excesses cluttering them up. And they had gores and heel biting traps too! And the gores and heel traps were vicious! The heels and soles were uneven or bulging out in the center so very unstable and wobbly, or they tilted, causing feet to slide to one side. Yes, I just looked too good wearing them, so I had to really suffer.

These loafers look hot, not bad. But are they?

And the bangs of my hair had to be super long -- either parted sideways and swept to one side horizontally above my eyes so that they'd cascade regularly downwards into my eyes. Or they'd be grown even longer, hanging to my chin and draping over one eye full-time, and often over both. And yes this looked good too, so for that I had to suffer with the inconvenience, annoyance and visual handicap it entailed.

The bad queen would then proceed to make me do chores that purposely exploited these outfits for her sadistic amusement. My fetishes for tight gear and long, floppy hair got plenty of attention. But focusing here just on the bad loafers, it was a frenzy of shoes slipping off my heels, heels slipping sideways, shoes slipping completely off, me stumbling and tripping. With uneven heels and soles, my feet were wobbly and unstable or they slid to one side. Any quick, staccatto movement caused me to feel just how much I was slipping and sliding around in those shoes -- or sliding out of them. My loafers kept getting sucked off in mud, or stomped off by other sadistic boys. They got knocked off while I was seated. They got flung off when I kicked. With one shoe on, I hade to hop about on one foot else my shoeless sock got muddy. Stuffing a muddy sock in my shoe made it wet, sloppy, and even looser.

Is he going to kick his loafer off?

In my fantasies I was unable to run. I got caught and punished as I could never run fast enough in loafers to get away. My loafers were clipped into clip-on roller skates, and I had to roller skate and play hockey in these, getting rammed into and kicked.

Roller skating in clipped-on loafers

In further fantasies, I rode an old-fashioned pedal-brake bike where the pedals can spin out of control. Out-of-control pedal spinning would knock off my loafers. I had to climb rocks and cross streams in loose loafers. Sometimes they'd fall off or get sucked off. I'd try to retrieve them -- resulting in yet more suffering. While sitting and letting my shoes dangle a sadist boy would come along and kick the heel of my shoe sideways and my loafer would go flying off. There's a gore in my loafers that's biting in and hurting. And the heel trap is also biting and hurting me. These loafers are bad -- and they're letting me know and feel just how bad they are. I'm forced to wear them and cannot avoid dealing with their sadistic badness.

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