"Just My Luck"

by

B. Tweenercheeks
 

(Hey - I thought I'd try to write a foot related shrinking story for a change. Please let me know your input)

I carried my box of belongings and slowly walked to catch an early afternoon train home. I was still numb with disappointment. After nine years I'd been let go as a cost cutting measure. I'd really thrown myself into accounting since the divorce. And now this. At 36 I wasn't a kid anymore. Brighter, cheaper and more enthusiastic recent graduates would have the jobs I could get. Then there was rent, car payments, alimony, child support...just my luck. I turned to head towards the platform to catch my train. The toothless grin of some pathetic old lady panhandler met my eyes. Somehow I felt like I knew how she felt. Before she could ask I reached into pocket of my trench coat and grabbed a fistful of change. "Here you go" I mumbled, dumping it into her grateful hands. Grabbing my arm she closed her eyes and looked down. "It's OK, you're welcome" I told her, trying to pull away. She looked up at me with tears in her eyes. In a weathered, smoker's voice she whispered "Your heart's next wish will be yours." I hurried to catch the train. Looking over my shoulder, she was gone.

I slouched in the worn seat of the commuter train, plopped the box next to me and waited to go home. The warm afternoon sun streaked through the windows. Every day for the last nine years it had been the same; the 7:15 express in, the 5:45 express out. The same people on the trains, the same stops. This was the first all stop train I had taken in years. The ride would be a long one.

Out of the window I saw her approach. She rode my regular morning train. I'd purposely sit behind and across from her just so I could catch a glimpse of "the brunette with the white nylons and plaid skirts" as I liked to think of her, was around 5"7", curvy but yet athletic. My guess was that she was 22. Running with her briefcase in one hand and purse over her shoulder she struggled to catch the train. Her breasts and ponytail pendulumed opposite of her stride. Her worried, wide brown eyes softened as she realized she'd make the train. The conductor teased her for her sprint for the train. She flashed that wide, gorgeous smile and climbed onto the train.

As her pumps clicked across the metal floor of the 1:30 all-stop, I felt myself sucking in my 36 year old belly. Out of breath from her run, she scanned for a seat. Straightening up, I slid towards to window hoping to coax the hottie to sit next to me. Her eyes fixed on someone across the aisle from me and melted into a smile. "Hi" she chirped with voice of an angel, and sat down - across the aisle and in front of me. "Just my luck" I thought. At least I'd have a beautiful view of those legs all the way home.

I slid back towards the aisle to maximize my view and slouched into a comfortable position. The train lurched forward.

I studied this beautiful young lady. Her attractiveness was not just her looks. She was so eager, enthusiastic, confident and smart. Even though she just ran for the train, her hair and make-up looked fresh and perfect. Her perfume filled the train - she smelled great. Even her clothes looked new and expensive.

I found myself listening to her perky young voice and staring and her. That little plaid skirt covered the roundness of rear perfectly as she sat, legs crossed with perfect posture, talking to some friend. God did she have legs! Encased by those white nylons her muscles gently flexed and relaxed as she dangled her popped off black pump by her toes.

"It's the simple things in life." I thought to my self. Staring at her legs I watched her foot as flexed and curled her half-on pump. I'd never really been that turned on by feet before, but I’d never seen feet like hers. Delicate and slender, her foot nervously and rhythmically played with her shoe. I couldn't help but daydream. "Her feet probably smell like that perfume. Imagine them, sweet smelling, smooth and silky in those bright white nylons." I thought about how they would feel to touch them, to rub them across my mouth and nose, perhaps to sneak a lick and taste her slippery nylons. I felt aroused. But I wanted more. "What could be even sexier than that?" I thought.

My imagination wandered. My mind fell back onto a similar memory. In third grade I liked to pretend with a girl named Jeanie that she had shrunk me. Then she'd pretend to do all sorts of stuff to me. For a while she liked it. Then she got bored and we stopped.

My eyes fixed on the hotties' dangling black pump. I looked at her sexy feminine foot. I imagined myself, shrunken inside her pump. What would it really be like? The temperature, the light, the movement, the smell, the textures, the sounds. The thought was intoxicating. I compared it to my current life as a failure. How great it would be to be part of something that was truly beautiful. How sexy. How safe I'd feel. I imagined what it would be like. Rubbing my eyes in my hands I subconsciously mouthed "I wish I could really be in her pump forever."

Rumbling through the city, the train leaned to and fro through the same set of uneven tracks that it wobbled on every day. Pulling my hand from my eyes I blinked hard. Things seemed much darker “Geez, I must have rubbed my eyes too hard” I thought. Struggling to see, I tried to maintain my composure. All around me was dark. An area above me, like looking out of a box, was light. I asked around for help. Nobody answered. Panicked, I screamed for the Conductor. Nobody replied. I felt around me. A warm, smooth, damp, leather-like surface surrounded me. A stale, leather and corn chips smell filled the air. Hottie laughed. The entire train seemed to respond to her laughter by lurching. I paused. Then I looked up. From the middle of her black pump I stared up at the hottie. Her nylon clad calf seemed to stretch on forever. Turned towards some guy, she smiled, listening attentively to him.

Somehow the unlikely nature of my circumstance seemed natural to me. Life owed me this. I had been wronged by life and the old beggar had helped me out. This was fair. This was right.

Sitting down cross-legged, I decided to just watch hottie for a while.
Her breasts were larger than I'd remembered. Perhaps they were accentuated by her tiny waist. Like gigantic over-inflated blimps they poked out from her chest ominously, almost taunting me.

Hottie seemed to really be interested in this guy. Her big brown eyes stared from his eyes, to his mouth, to his eyes. Her face was so full of expression. Yet from below, there was something creepy and threatening that bothered me. I couldn't, or perhaps didn’t want to, figure it out.
Looking up her crossed legs I caught the view that all guys hope to see. Hotties' plaid skirt was pretty short. Her white pantyhose camel toed over her crotch nicely.

Finally, I decided it was time to take action. Remembering my new found foot-fetish, started my way towards the toe area of her pump. "I'm gonna savor her luscious foot." I thought.

My path was different, and more difficult than I'd thought it would be. As I walked, my feet slipped in pools of hotties' sweat. Her pumps turned out to be worn and smooth from years of wear, making climbing even more difficult. Climbing towards her toes, she'd bounce her foot again, and I'd slide back down. Over and over, I strove to get to her toes. I wanted to feel them, taste them, and be warmed by them. Finally arriving at the ball of her foot, she bounced her pump again. Lunging for her nylons, I grabbed on. Nylons are not the smooth, silky things we imagine when you're 1/4" tall. Really, it was like soft chain link fencing. I held tight until she stopped bouncing. My chance arrived. I climbed up further, slithering under the ball of her foot towards her toes.

Hotties' feet were different than I'd expected. First, after hours in heels, her feet were soaked in sweat. Second, they smelled. Those pristine, sexy white nylons that I fantasized about? Well as I looked down from under the ball of her foot, the bottoms of the feet in her nylons were stained grey from months of wear. Not to quit, however, I climbed on. Finally, I squeezed into the gap under her toes. While I was still impressed into her nylons, at least I could do what I came here for.

Mashing my face into Hotties’ toes I inhaled her essence. I humped her toes wildly. Finally, once I had ejaculated a number of times, I rested.

I listened as Hottie and this guy made flirting small talk. How funny. This jerk is trying to make time with her while I'm having foot sex with her.
The fact that Hottie had no idea that I even existed turned me on. No responsibilities, no pleasantries, no etiquette. Just sex.

Yet, in a way, there was some kind of a lesson in this for me. I viewed hottie idealistically as some kind of fairy tail perfect women. Even though she was amazingly gorgeous, well, her feet stink just like everyone else.
The old beggar woman had really given me something valuable.

"Woodville, next stop” the conductor announced. "That's my stop” Hottie warned. "Would you like to go out some time? The guy asked her.
"Well that's my cue." I thought. Now's the time to wish myself out of here. All around me darkened. I looked up just in time to see Hotties' heel push back into her pump. Alarmed by the darkness I reassured myself. "Just wish yourself out of here. I wish I were back in my real life." Nothing happened. "I wish I were back to my real size." Nothing happened. I felt movement. Hottie was gathering her belongings. "I wish I went back to my seat over there." Nothing happened. As I lay on my back, a wall of slimy, warm, soft flesh mashed into me. First I couldn't breath. Then it hurt, all over. The reality of my situation set in. The beggar woman gave me 1 wish. I had used it already. Unimaginable, intermitant pain only ceased for fractions of a second as Hottie stepped. I knew I would soon be dead. "How pathetic. Dead in some woman's pump. Killed by being a pervert." I almost laughed.

"Whose box of belongings is this?" The conductor called out. Hottie replied "Oh, it belongs to that really handsome gentleman, hey where'd he go?"

Just my luck.