Chapter 1

She was magnificent.

Yeah yeah.  So I'm cliché.

But she was.

I met her on the subway two Fridays ago.  We were both on our way home from work; she was a hot bombshell looking for company and I was a guy looking to blow off a little steam.  The chemistry was right.  We got off at 42nd street, went into O'Charlie's, had a few laughs, a couple of beers and then wound up at her place.

And God, was the love-making great.

Afterwards, during a little pillow talk, I learned a little secret about her.  And well, all things being equal, she learned one of mine.

It all began with: "You know," she said, propping her head up on her elbow on her pillows, regarding me.  Good lord, she was lovely.  Her blond locks fell about her smiling face like a soft, askew halo, framing a perfectly proportioned, cherubic face.

I was all ears.  I said, "Yeah?" instantly riveted.  I was thinking that she was about to tell me that she wanted to become my regular squeeze; I thought for sure that the sex had been that good for her.  It was great for me.

She smiled and went on.  "I have the power to shrink others."  She grinned.

I blinked.

That was the last thing I had expected her to say.  "Great" I thought to myself.  I've landed myself a real loon, a loon who gave great sex, but a loon all the same.  Just my luck.

She had noted the way my face had fallen.

Hers didn't.  She brightened.

"It's the truth," she insisted, smiling sweetly at me.

I raised a brow.

I decided to shine her on.  Maybe she was just having her fun with me--to see how far I was willing to go to play along with her.

"All right, so you can shrink people.  What do you do with people after you shrink them?" I wanted to know.

She grinned some more, looked impish.  God, her face was so beautiful.

"What ever I want," she told me.

I blinked again.

She just grinned.

I found myself intrigued.

"All right.  What does this 'what ever I want' usually entail?" I pressed.

Her impish grin turned into a mischievous grin.

"Tell me, do you have any fetishes?"

I blinked yet again.

But what the hell?  I had just made love with this loony babe; and it was great.  So what if she was a little off her rocker?  Besides, maybe if I told her about my little fetish (I had a tremendous foot fetish), it might loosen her up; if I went along with her little joke, maybe she would feel inclined to let me have a little fun with her feet.  It wasn't often, after all, that I had run into sheer knock-dead-beautiful dames who were willing to let me play with their feet.  On top of that, this dame had really cute feet.

So, "I have a foot fetish," I told her.

She raised a brow.

"Does it go any deeper?" she asked.  "Like, do you like to just look at peoples feet?  You like to lick and kiss on them?  Suck on pretty toes?  Maybe something else?"

The real truth of it was, was that she was hitting pretty close to target with me.  Was it some kind of special insight she had?  Did she know someone else who had the kind of fetishes I had?  Was she a mind reader?  Either way, her questions had started a tingling down low in my guts, and my hair to rise on the back of my neck.  A couple of fantasies that I did have, were starting to run a little rampant through my thoughts, causing me to stare at her with more than just a little astonishment, and increasing interest.

She drew one leg forward and up from under the covers.  Adjusting herself, she pressed her toes into my hairy belly.  Their touch was cool.  I got immediately hard.  The tingling in my guts was starting to grow a little tighter, and a lot more pronounced.  My body betrayed this fact, as did my throat; I squirmed a little and swallowed a lump.  I, though, found myself caressing her leg.  She seemed to like it, though, so I didn't stop.

She waited, scrunching her soft and cool toes in my belly as she did.  I felt myself flushing all the way up to my scalp, the top of my head growing hot.

But what the hell?  What were my fetishes to her?  By most standards, my fetishes were pretty--.  Strike that.  VERY weird.  I had this thing about meeting up with a giant and getting stepped on by it; or more precisely, stepped on by her, this thing I had being about a giant woman doing this to me.

So I told her this.  Not in so many words, mind you.  I threw a little playfulness in it to try to take the weirdness out of it.  Even so, what was she going to do?  Was she going to kick me out because I had this little fantasy?  She had started this weirdness after all.  So where was the harm?  I'd tell her about my little deal, we'd have a few laughs, chock it up as just lovers having fun little jokes with each other, maybe make love again, and then I would be home in time for breakfast.

I said, "Darlin', if you can really shrink people, I would have you reduce me to the size of a shoe sole for your foot and walk all over me for the rest of the night, for the next two nights, for the next week."  I laughed.  "Hell, for the rest of my life!"

"Ooh…" she said, staring at me with wide eyes.  She licked her lips, tossed back her hair and then pulled herself up in the bed.  Hugging her knees and grinning at me again with that impish grin, she asked, "And how merciless would you want me to be?"

I rolled over and sat up, and scooted myself around to face her.  I grinned at her.  "As merciless as hell," I told her, my own grin impish.  And then I took up her right foot, kissed it generously right in her arch.  She cooed, scrunched her toes over the bridge of my nose.  Her foot had a very nice musky smell--the kind of smell you'd imagine a sweet dame would have after a day in her shoes.  It was delicious.

Maybe she was crazy.  Maybe I was too.  As I had related this weirdness to her, I was hoping that it all could really happen.  She had exquisite feet.  The thought of having this smirking bomb shell trampling all over my shrunken body completely without mercy sent shivers up and down my spine.  But it was all completely impossible.  Or was it?  She had been so matter-of-fact about it--like it could really happen, like she really could do it.

Nah.  Just two passers-in-the-night lovers having their fun.  But she did have very exquisite feet.  What if it could happen...?

Nah.  I was nuts.  She was nuts; we were just a couple of people having fun imagining stuff, playing at getting to know each other's deep little secrets.

Or were we?  She seemed more than a little interested in my little secrets, like she wanted to know them because she could do what she said.  But the reality of it was, if she could do it, she would do it.  She had made that pretty clear--if indirectly with the directness of her questions.  It was like she was setting me up for the event, to find out what my desires were so she could exploit them, and... exploit them for me.

But nah.  I had been around too long to let myself get taken up by these kinds of hopes and fantasies.  Maybe she was just extraordinarily insightful, then, and liked using her insights to entertain her lovers.  It was all just fun and games to her.  Either way, liking her all the more for her playfulness, I smiled up at her and then laid my head on her bosom.  I was soon asleep with her caressing my hair.

*****

I tried to move.  Couldn't.  Well, could, but not much.  Something soft and course was pulled taut down over my back.  It was holding me against something smooth that had a peculiar coarseness, and was warm.  And there was that smell...

Smooth roundnesses were pushed down over the crown of my head, two of them.  My chest was held up against something broad, felt softly creased, had a certain, not-unpleasant swirled grain to it.  My back had a somewhat uncomfortable bend forward in it.  I tried to adjust my back backwards out of it.  My back encountered resistance--that soft coarseness.  It felt like loosely woven cotton fabric, slightly stretchable; the weave of it was large.  My shins and the insides of my feet were held against something that felt like what my chest was being held against, but less pliable than what my chest was against.

Suddenly, the whole thing moved--the fabric and the thing the fabric was holding me against.  As it moved, my back got more of an uncomfortable backwards bend in it.  I felt my belly being suddenly pressed up against what felt like very smooth skin--skin that was broken by large, swells, or big, smooth wrinkles.

Unbidden, a mental image of where I was filled my head.  I was in a sock and was being held up against the sole of the dame's foot I had made love with that night.  The smell for it was all right; the feeling of it all was right for that.  As that mental image took hold, what the dame had told me rang like sudden hoofbeats through my mind.

But then, nah, there was no way.  I had probably passed out on the couch or something, and this was a dream.

I tried to move.  In so doing, I drew down my left arm, caressing the surface that felt like deeply wrinkled skin--in my mind's eye what was her arch.

My blood froze.  When I did that, the thing against which I was being held pulled down further.  Then, "Ooh, that tickles!" arose a sleepy voice.  The two things on the crown of my head--that I imagined were toes--squeezed downwards, so much so that they began pressing over my eyes and over the bridge of my nose.

"Careful down there," then came the voice.  The thing against which I was being held suddenly relaxed.

I knew right then that I was being held against her foot.  She had indeed somehow shrunk me, and while I was asleep (probably a very deep sleep by her design) she had placed me in her sock and then put her foot in her sock with me in it--with her foot on top of me, me fitted perfectly under her sole.

I tried to call out.  My voice though was lost as a soft buzz under her toes.  I tried anyway.

"Look!" I called up to her.  I tried to struggle some more.  "Erf, look...!  This is too much!  This is crazy!  How did you do this to me?"

Suddenly there was an extreme amount of motion.  I felt fabric on fabric--what sounded like her taking her sock-clad feet out from under the covers.  I started struggling again!

That was a mistake.

"I told you that tickles!" came her booming voice.  And then the unthinkable happened.

With no warning at all, I had just enough time to realize that she was standing up (by the feeling of the carpeting pushing up against the outside of her sock), and then it was just all crushing, downward pressing weight!

With no more thought than what one gives to getting out of bed, this dame, this blond with the nice feet, had stood up on me!

The pressure was astounding!  I was gagging up into the bridges of her toes.  My chest was compressed into near-inability-to-breathe under the powerful weight of the ball of her foot!  My shins and feet actually stung under the severity of the press exerted onto them by her heel!  More than anything else, though, my head had been tilted back by the forward part of the ball of her foot, stretching my neck backwards, and shoving my face into the backs of those two toes.  My head was trapped under her toes like a little pea!

I could do nothing, under this omnipresent weight of her foot!  I could do nothing but lie there, hurting, feeling the god-like pressure of the dame's incredible weight, and gag to no effect at all, against the bridges of her toes!

I had fantasized about this for years, ever since I was a pre-pubescent youth, even.  Nothing at all I could have fantasized about, however, could have prepared me for the full, sickening reality of it!  I was at this woman's mercy, and she was actually... standing on me!

In any case, her colossal weight on me began to very quickly soon transform from a hard, squashing pain, into a dully throbbing, dangerous ache--me starting to see spots of black across my nearly-eye-popped-out vision.  Her sole flesh was actually pressing down around me, actually and really squashing me!

In desperation for her to get off of me, I got my "arch-side" arm down into the scoop of her arch, and started frantically scrabbling with my fingernails.

That was a huge mistake.

Unbelievably, the weight actually increased.  Two fold, five fold, TEN fold!  It was like.... like.... she had picked up her other sock-clad foot and propped it atop this one--crushing me beneath every living, god-forsaken, almighty ounce of her weight!

"I told you not to tickle me!" she scolded, as I lay in an apoplexy on the verge of what I sure was a very ugly demise.

Under all of this untold tonnage, I could feel my insides warring with my struggles to keep them inside--they threatening at any second, to burst out of my anus, up through my throat, or even out of my side under the "arch" side of her foot!  Blackness encroached like a ten-ton cloak of darker-than-night sack cloth; it raced onto me with all of the significance of coming death.  As black as death, it resembled a lovely proportioned but very devilish foot, in my mind's eye.

But just when I felt like I was about to burst--like every blood vessel in my head was about to burst, like I was about to vomit my organs right up into the cavity between her toes and the ball of her foot.... the weight suddenly just.... relented and then smoothly eased up.

End Chapter 1

I had seen "I Dream of Genie" when I was a kid.  I watched it almost daily, even--rushing in to the TV to watch it, regardless of what I was doing.  I liked the show that much.

One of the reasons I liked it so, was because I fantasized what I would do if I had my own genie to grant whatever wish I wanted.  I thought Larry Hagman was out of his mind for turning down the unbelievable opportunities Genie presented him!  And he turned them down just to continue being an astronaut?!  Didn't he realize, with one word from him, he could own his own space program?!  Or have any fantasy fulfilled he could ever dream possible?

…Like /my/ fantasy?

If you guessed that I fantasized about being shrunk by Genie and then having her walk all over me, then you guessed right.

The question has become for me, then: am I getting my fantasy?  Did I please some god somewhere (or piss one off really badly), and that god is granting me the ultimate reward (or punishment)?

Her power to shrink me was obviously very real.  This wasn't any kind of a dream.  This was really happening to me!  /Was/ she a genie?

As if she had heard my thoughts, my frantic reverie was suddenly broken.  She spoke!  Her foot hovering, she said, "Yes.  I am a genie, and to you, Carl, I have been sent to reward!"

My mind did a back flip with this!  "Reward for what?!" I called from inside her sock--careful to not move lest I tickle her again (something I muchly did not want to do).

"That guy, two years ago?" she queried.  "You remember?"  Her foot gave a downward scrunch, still hovering.

My mind raced--trying to recall what she was referring to.  I did remember this guy I had beat up outside a restaurant a couple of years back; the dude was harassing a waitress, and had later ambushed her out in the parking lot, with obvious intent to rape her.  Being a fairly big and confident sort of guy, I took the dude on, smashed in face in with my fists, and saw the waitress safely to her car.

"Yes, him," she answered, giving a little laugh, and me another scrunch of her foot.  "The woman you rescued was a genie in waiting."

Inside the stuffy confines of her sock, I blinked.  A genie in waiting?

After performing that rather admittedly heroic feat those two years ago, I had received a job offer in the big city.  The news coverage of the event was more than a little flattering of my heroism.  I got a lot of job offers, in fact.

Anyway, when I had done this thing, I lived in western New Jersey.  My new job had taken me to Manhattan.  I never heard from the lady again and honestly, never expected to, either.  For me, it was just one of those things that every upstanding citizen ought to do. I never would have guessed that I had saved a... genie in waiting.

She continued.

"Well, Carl, those two years ago, she reported what you did for her to the Council of Genies.  And well, it was finally decided upon yesterday that a genie should be sent to you to see what could be done to reward you!"  She gave a little laugh.  "Sorry it took so long!  But you know how it is.  Billions of people, but only so many genies!"

"Why not gold, jewels, riches!?" I shot back up at her.  I immediately regretted the heat in my voice, but she appeared to take no notice.

She gave a little, tittering laugh.  "Oh, mortals and their fairy tales," she answered, chuckling.  "Genies don't work that way.  Granting huge wealth could spoil economies.  We /used/ to grant stuff like that for rewards or wishes--but that was when the economies of man were much less complex.  So now, we grant corporeal wishes--bestowing upon people experiences they could not achieve in any other way.  Your fantasy for instance!"  She giggled again.  "How likely would it be for you to somehow be shrunk and walked on by a pretty girl?"

I had to admit it was logical--of course, the obvious insanity of the situation itself notwithstanding.  I had to ask: "But for how long, Genie?!"

I was embarrassed by the desperation in my voice.  But again, she seemed to take no notice.

"For the rest of your life!" she answered me enthusiastically.  "I have been permanently assigned to you, to give you your reward for as long as you live!"

My heart did both a brutal plummet, and skipped a beat--both in the grip of a kind of dark but elated anticipation.

"M-my whole /life/?!" I spluttered from within her sock!  "But what about my job?!  My /life/?!  People will notice me gone!  There's sure to be questions!  People don't just disappear without investigations--especially when someone of my stature goes missing!"  I was an office manager at a prestigious publisher in uptown Manhattan.  If I went missing, there were /sure/ to be questions, and lots of them!  "People will wonder what happened to me!"

In response, she laughed--honest-to-god laughed!

"Mortals."

I could just see her rolling her eyes.

"Your employer has been given notice--by you--that you received an emergency request from family in Ireland (I did actually have family there, too).  You had to leave with little notice, and didn't know when you would return, if ever--that you had to settle an estate and would likely remain as an only living heir to the deceased!"

Inside of her sock, I blinked.

"Yep, and you even gave notice that no severance pay was necessary, and to please attempt no contact, as where you would be going would have no telephone or postal services."

I blinked again.  She had all of the bases covered quite well, didn't she?

"You are going to be spending the rest of your life with me!  And you are going to spend every waking moment of your life beneath my feet--just as you told me you wanted!"

I didn't know whether to shout, struggle or to begin weeping.

"By the way," she said then--completely changing the subject.  "I could tell while I was standing on you, you were in a very uncomfortable position.  I could feel your poor neck straining really badly.  Why don't you scoot down in my sock a little so your neck is not being bent back like that?"

I thought this was a good idea.  (Being very careful not to tickle her again) I began moving myself downwards in the confines of her sock.  She held her foot completely relaxed for me as I made this move, too.  As I began moving, I was completely stricken for a moment, by just how silky and smooth her skin was--even under the ball of her foot and her heel, where foot skin is ordinarily more rough.  So moved, at any rate, I stopped when I had my head positioned right in the crease of the ball of her foot, figuring that when she next stepped down, this crease would fold down over my head, encapsulating it, and not so much crush down on it.  My belly and chest were under her arch in this new position, too, which I also hoped would make this whole thing easier on me.  My shins, however, were a different story; I knew that they were going to feel every step she took, and acutely; they were positioned right under her heel, my feet poking up in back of her heel.  As if in answer to this very problem, she gave her foot a little scrunch on me (god, her skin was so smooth, supple and malleable).

"Why don't you put your legs up on either side of my heel?" she suggested.  "Straddle my heel, so I am not stepping on them."

As I moved my legs as she suggested, I was struck by her gesture.  She actually did want to make this nice for me (well, as nice as it can be while being less than a foot tall and being relentlessly walked on by someone, that is).  This combined with the silky smoothness of her skin, was starting to have a real effect on me.  My loins were responding quite unsparingly.  I was getting harder than I have ever been in my life.

"All right!" she said suddenly.  "Your new life begins!"  With that, her foot scrunched atop me; the scrunch bore the feeling of purposefulness, and then…  I gasped aloud when I realized what she was doing next!

The insole of her slipper pressed up against my back with unmitigated smoothness--it pressing me likewise up against the sole of her foot.  Moreover, when she rested her foot in the slipper, I was pressed several inches down into it (by my shrunkified reckoning) by the press of her foot atop me.  But then, the whole world turned topsy-turvy!

"H-hey!" I cried!  My head felt like it was down, my legs way up over them, and all while I was still in her slipper and under her foot!  "What's happening?!"

"Oh don't be such a baby!" she retorted--her voice now greatly muffled by her footwear.  "I'm just picking up my foot to pull the slipper on over my heel!"

And then… with a feeling I could imagine was not unlike what fighter pilots experienced when they went into dives… I was plunged downwards!  The downward plunge, however, came to a /very/ abrupt end, and with a suddenness of the onset of her foot atop me and literally squashing me down into her shoe, that I cried out in surprise, shock, and no small measure of anxiety!  But my cry was stifled down to nothing in an instant!  My face was smushed upon by the ball of her foot, and hard enough for her skin's dermal sworls to imprint themselves into my skin!  Then, came her /full/ weight!

My face felt like it was going to be pressure-mashed right off of the front of my skull!  My lips burst against my teeth, my eyes felt like they were being stove right down into my skull, my nose was squashed flat!  It remained like this for a very hateful long period, but finally ended--and sweetly, by her picking up her foot!

My face had been bruised by that little episode, I knew it.  I thought about calling up to her, but somehow… I /knew/ I would be ignored.  So instead, realizing that my face was in real danger of suffering very grievous injury if my head remained upright as I had it, I made the quick decision to turn my head to its side.

I was right on both counts, as it turned out, and had made the decision none too soon, too.  With my face burning and feeling like it was turning the color of a plum in just the first few seconds… she began to walk.

The first time she had stood on me, it was to scold me for tickling her.  The second time was, no doubt, her pulling her other slipper onto her other foot.  Both times were crushing beyond belief.  Being /walked/ on, however, was another story entirely!  Her foot had lifted that first time, into a purposeful swing--which left my stomach feeling like it had been left miles behind… and then, her foot, with a sealing-forward momentum, squeezed down over my body, up my belly, over my chest, which all ended with a literally /scalding/ downward push onto the side of my face!  I knew, for a fact, especially with her step-off--which literally strove to crush my head beneath the ball of her foot like a rotten grape--that had it not been for her putting on the slippers, my head /would/ have been squeezed flat and popped, exactly as if it had been that overripe sphere of small fruit!  And then, with the onset of her crushing push off, it began all over again!

It was like being on a madly dizzying rollercoaster ride and being mashed under a huge, meaty rolling pin all at the same time--all of it ending with my little head taking the full brunt of her great weight with her push off for her next step!

I came.

I am not exactly sure when it happened--whether it was into her third step or her fourth… but the sheer enormity of what she was doing to me, and my absolute helplessness to stop her, my whole life destined to be spent having this done to me by her…  It all exploded into me with a blast, a detonation and fractured jet of rapture!  It was an explosion of ecstasy the like of which I had never had before eperienced!

As for her…?  As though it hadn't happened, she just kept right on walking.

I tried to scream, but her steps just kept turning them into animal-like, woofing grunts.

This /was/ going to be a life for /sure/!  I kept trying to scream.  She just kept right on walking!

~Fin (?)