I can’t believe how lucky I am. My name is Greg, and I’m a college student. I’m your average guy, in your average college, studying for, well, an average degree. Life would be pretty boring for me if not for my non-average girlfriend.
Sheila is on my year, a sophomore and she is beautiful. About 5’ 2’’, with a cute face, bright green and hazel eyes and brown hair that barely touch her shoulders. Her petite frame and mischievous smile make her irresistible. She is also a witch. I know what you’re thinking, "come on, there are no witches, those are child’s tales!", but it’s indeed true. Sheila, and her twin sister Monica have inherited powers passed down through generations, from mother to daughter. But it’s the first time in their family history that twin girls were born. As they share every other characteristic, so they were born with shared powers too. But I wasn’t supposed to know that, no one is. This is how I found out.

First of all, we met on a party during freshman year. I wouldn’t call it love at first sight, more like attraction and, well, you probably know that the new-found freedom of being in college, mixed with some bad quality beer can be a pretty dangerous combination. We hooked up and left the party, or, to be more precise, we went to the apartment she and her sister rented. Her sister stayed at the party at that time, so we were home alone.

"It’s a nice place. I like how you two have decorated it, and I guess you have the same tastes?" The walls were covered with posters of exotic lands, and the furniture and walls were inviting shades of brown, and light green, respectively. "Thanks!" she answered, "we like travelling a lot. We’ve spent a lot of summers abroad!". "They are pretty, but so are you!" I chuckled. Sheila smiled and told me to sit and get comfortable while she prepared our entertainment. "That beer was bad, do you want a hot chocolate? With caramel, maybe?" "Ah, yes please."

She got to work, and I couldn’t but keep looking at her. I wasn’t sure, however, since I’ve had bad memories from girls from senior year in high school. You see, I’ve got this really bad thing, well, you guessed it, for feet. I found out when I was little that I’d love to put on my older sister’s shoes, that were sizes bigger than mine, and pretend to be all grown up. When I started, ah, noticing girls, I always looked at their feet, saw their shoes, and the thought of making contact aroused me. Of course, the one time I actually asked a girl out that senior year, I couldn’t express myself. We even got close and personal, but there was probably a funny look of indecision on my face, that our date ended short. Oh, and what a nice pair of short strappy heels were they. . .
 "There you go, daydreamer!" Sheila chirped, as she put a warm but not hot mug on my hands, then set beside me on the couch. I left memory lane, and back to the present. I took a sip, it was still too warm, so I let it on the coffee table and looked at her. She was probably still a bit drunk from the beer, but it wasn’t that bad, you could tell she held herself fine. And those hazel eyes. . . and the dress. Light blue, short, and maybe too revealing about her breasts. She was following my gaze as I was checking her out. Slightly embarrassed, I turned away. "It’s ok, I feel flattered. You like me, then?"

"I ..yeah, you’re pretty". "Nice shoes", I blurted out before I could realise what I’ve done. Man, I’m done for now, I thought. "Oh thanks!" was her answer, however, and she was smiling at me. She lifted her smooth leg and rested it on my own, showing me off her light blue sandal. It was pretty basic, two thin straps holding her toes, and then a strap behind her ankle that connected with another strap from the front with a buckle. The heel was about two inches tall. She was following my gaze to her unpainted toenails, and wiggled her toes, as much as she could. "I. . ., uh, I .." was all I could say, but without realising, my hand was already on her knee.
Sheila giggled and got closer to me. "I guess you like them a lot, don’t you?" she asked almost teasingly. "That’s fine. . . I like them too. How about drinking that chocolate? I can show you my other pairs too if you’d like!"
Was she reading my mind or what? The truth is, I don’t remember much after that, we drank our chocolate and made small talk. There was something really soothing on that mug.

Next thing I remember, we were on her bed, partially clothed, and making out. Sheila was really hot, and I guess I was doing fine too! And I couldn’t remember much after that either.

What I do remember, however, was the crash next morning. I woke up, next to her, but something was awfully wrong. We were both really tiny. I don’t know what or why, but all around me was the vastness of her bed. I looked around me, and also realised, that we had slept inside on what appeared to be a pair of light blue lacy panties. My mind was spinning, and I had no idea what’s going on. My first thought was to wake her up, but I decided against it. I got up, and had to pull my leg up, as if there was something that stuck it to the fabric. Judging by our nakedness. . . we must have made love. And some of her excitement dripped on her panties. But why, why were we suddenly shrunk, and slept on top of that . . excitement? I couldn’t remember. I got up nevertheless, and Sheila was still snoozing peacefully. I got off her underwear, and walked around. The bed was clearly unmade, and I could now see some of our clothes thrown at the side. All normal sized. So we made love while big, then got shrunk? And how small am I, anyway? I could tell it was a lot, but not how much. I walked over to my discarded belt. At two inches wide, ah, yes, I was about half as tall as it was wide. So, one inch it is. Bewildered, and maybe a bit scared, I walked back to Sheila. I stepped on her undergarment, and back to what should be covering her intimacy, not be our bed. I didn’t notice when I woke up, but now that I returned to it, it smelled a lot like her, and the aroma was powerful and strong. I wanted her, right here and now. I felt my excitement rise as well, but sense snapped on my mind. We have to see what’s going on first! And so I started calling her softly, then softly touching her sides. She woke up with a mumble, and saw me.

"As I said, Greg, you do know how to please a woman!" She pulled herself up, and stretched, yawned once, then fell on my embrace. "Again, please! A morning parting gift!" As she opened her eyes again, however, she pulled away from me. "Oh shit, oh, oh, oh shhhhhhiiiit." "Yeah, we’re in trouble, glad you noticed. . . "

Sheila wouldn’t speak for a while, looking around her, then around me. "Sit", she ordered me, and I did so. "What’s going on? Do you have any idea, Sheila?" She started explaining to me, then, about something that I shouldn’t have known. She told me about how her family were a family of witches, and more specifically, sizechangers. I couldn’t believe my ears, when she told me that they have been for generations, and that they were supposed to keep their power hidden. The secret passed down from mother to daughter, but it would be only used for self-defence, or for making their lives better, but never for extreme acts or extravagant profit. They would enlarge small flakes of gold to leaves and sell them for profit, or they would use their powers to play games at home. But never, never show them to a stranger. It must have been the beer still affecting her while we were making love, or I must have been just that good, that when we finished, she lost control and shrunk us both. We ended up at about the middle of her body, which, surprisingly, was inside her panties, then rolled until her stickiness caught us in place.

"But now, Greg, I’ll have to protect my family’s secret, no matter how cute you are. We don’t have the power to make you forget what you heard and listened, I’m afraid. Can I trust you to keep this between us, never to be told to another person?"
"Sheila, all this is too freaky for me. I slept with a girl I like, and now I learn about those things, so soon. It’s a . . . commitment. But I do promise, I’ll keep it safe."
Sheila smiled. For some reason, she trusted me. I felt as if her eyes were piercing me again. She stood close to me, and I could see that she was shorter than me. I lifted her chin, and slightly bending down, I kissed her. She kissed me back, but broke early. "Let me fix that for you!" and smiling, stood in front of me. Soon enough, she was growing really slowly, but she was! Gaining a couple inches (or what would have been inches if we were normal sized), she was now at exactly my height. We embraced and kissed again.

We had to explain to Monica what happened when we grew back to our normal sizes.. She seemed to scan my mind herself as well, and agreed that Sheila was right in trusting me. But she left us mostly to our own, and we spent that day together, talking and playing, mostly size games. She wasn’t afraid to make herself really tiny, and run around me, or pretend to climb me. Or, we would both be shrunk to barely half a foot, and run around furniture, playing hide and seek. It was in one of those games, that I ended up underneath her bed. I saw her sandals, the ones that she was wearing last night. Something banged inside me. This wasn’t much of a hiding place, but I wanted to take a look. At my six inch height, I was taller than the shoe, but it was much longer than I was tall. I could discern a feint smell of leather and sweat, and I loved it. Without thinking, I climbed on it, and lay down on the soft white insole. The straps were above me as I lay down, and I looked at my feet, close to her toe straps. I got up, and made my way there. They didn’t even reach up to my knees, but the size and area of her sandal was impressive. I looked at the imprints of the toes, and they were unquestionably big. I bent down, slid my head through the straps, and kissed the darker spot where her big toe would be.
"So, I guess you DO like them a lot!" she chirped. Surprised, I jerks my head up, but it hit the straps on top, and I fell facedown on the soft material. "It’s ok, let me help!" her voice came to me, and I felt as if I was becoming smaller. Indeed, soon I was able to stand up and my height wasn’t enough to reach those straps! Boy, I must be tiny. . . probably less than an inch now. Turning around, I observed the shoe. What was the size of a big bed for me before, was now a vast area, and her heel was rising up high. I turned around and saw her toe imprint. It was certainly bigger than I was! And beyond the shoe, were two massive, for me, pillars. Sheila was still on her titanic height of six inches. "Sorry, I guess you’re not used to that difference, yet", she said before I could calculate how short I must be to her, and she shrunk herself down. Hopping on her sandal, she came close to me. "Explore it, little man, it’s alright."

I  spent a few minutes climbing and poking, and after she pressed me to do so, kissing and licking parts of her magnificent sandal. At times, she’d walk over me, and make me a bit bigger, so I could reach something out of my reach. When I finished, I turned at her. "Thank you", was all I could mutter. I  was almost in tears. This was better than a dream come true! A girl that seemed to enjoy my endless passion for shoes, AND also able to make me so small to better enjoy it?
I could see why she trusted me that easily. I’d never betray her secret!

Sheila and I started dating properly, doing what normal sized couples do. However, when we were alone, She’d let me explore the shoes she’d been wearing, almost always something new. I got quite good at climbing sandals, sneakers, chucks, and even boots! Imagine a one inch man trying to climb an Ugg! But I did so, and when I got up, I’d jump inside, landing safely on the soft fleece surface, and her smell would be all around me. Sheila soon started letting herself be bigger and bigger as she accompanied me on those "explorations". One day, when we got to her home, I bent down to ceremonially untie her pair of white and pink Nikes, but she stopped me. "I never asked you Greg, but why my shoes? Why do you like them so much? Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy seeing you exploring, caressing, and kissing them, but why?"
"I don’t know, dear, I really don’t. At first I was a bit scared and awed by their size. I know love being around them, I like being inside them, they are always warm and smell of you."
She nodded at me, then looked at me. "Greg, would you do me the honor of letting me stay completely big for today?" I nodded. "Whatever you want, sweetie. I am not scared of seeing you so big compared to me as in the first times."
Sheila smiled, then shrunk me down. She undid her massive laces, making sure to drop one of them close to me, and I excitedly run to it to start climbing. However, her soft hand stopped me, and put me back on the floor. She removed her shoe, and let her foot on the floor. Compared to me, it was a behemoth, clad in an ankle-high light pink sock. "Explore me, Greg. Please, try this for once", her voice boomed over me, not an order, but a soft request from a lover. I had of course played around her feet a lot of times before that, but this was the first time she was just that huge. I went close to her toes, and touched the soft damp fabric. The smell of sneakers just made my day. I started kissing, and before I knew it, I was below her toes, as she was softly wiggling them all around me, her sweaty sock all over me, holding me close to her, warming me up. Suddenly she let go, and left me on the floor, putting her foot about a foot (to real scale) away. I looked up at her, and smiled back. "That was awesome!" I screamed, and she nodded. "Please, I want to feel that again", I added. She nodded, then lifted her foot over my head. I braced myself for the crash, as she softly stomped on me, putting her weight all around me. I could feel the pressure, and oh my, the smell was so powerful that it was intoxicating. She was pressing down with force, and even twisting her foot once or twice.

At the end of the day, we were both inside her sneaker, cuddled up on her toe section, just having finished making love. I don’t know why, but she also enjoyed being tiny inside her shoes and clothes, as long as she was with me. She took pleasure from seeing me enjoy being tiny, I think.
"Greg, would you mind if. . . I wore you inside for a day?"
I was taken aback a bit. My mind was racing, and I wanted to blurt out, hell yes! Would I be safe, though?
"I know.. it’s going to be dark and my steps will probably be a rollercoaster, but I want it very much, Greg. I want to feel you small and tiny inside my shoes, or maybe my socks, while I’m out. I promise, even if you get stepped on by mistake, you’ll be safe. . ."
I looked at her. Even though we were both tiny, she had chosen to be a bit taller than me today. Her form was impressive, and in the semi-dark of her sneaker, she was perfect. I nodded. "I would love to be yours, just like that, Sheila. I know you’ll keep me safe."

After that, for many days I would spend my time trapped willingly at her feet. She sometimes wore me inside her shoe, others directly on her sock. I appreciated her smallest movements, as even a small shuffle of her feet was an earthquake to me. Walking was indeed a rollercoaster, especially on those days that I wasn’t securely held between her toes inside her sock! And you can almost picture me hanging on for dear life when she went out jogging! When she wore sandals, I would be safely tucked beneath the ball of her foot, and she’d always make sure to stomp just a bit at every step to keep me glued on her flesh by means of her sweat. Oh, her sweat. On a normal day, she would put me inside her shoe, and its natural smell would wash over me, then she’d put her foot on. Or first drop me in her sock before wearing it. However, as the day went on, she’d start sweating, and the heat would be enormous. Every little pore of her skin would start emitting her salty musk that I so loved. And at the end of the day, I’d be in a state of bliss when she retrieved me. But I enjoyed all of it immensely, and I loved her even more for that. Not only that, but she’d poke me, joke that I stink, and then she’d wash me with her soft fingers before dressing me and letting me go home. Of course, we couldn’t do this every day, I had classes, and then, it was a great experience, but life is more than just being sweated on relentlessly by toes bigger than you are. We still went out on "normal sized people’s" dates, as we called them. And in time, I wanted to explore more of her body. She was a true giantess to me. I played around on her belly, climbed her breasts, even spent some days relaxing on her bra or even inside her panties. That last one proved too good for our own good! I would be so overcome by the size of her womanhood, that I’d always play with her, slipping inside her, or climbing to her clitoris and give her a great massage. If I managed not to get tangled up by her pretty pubic hair, I’d soon be met by a few massive droplets of her excitement. She couldn’t focus on her classes, so we ended up restricting this kind of play for the bedroom.
And lastly, one time she actually made me a quarter inch tall, and took me to a test! Masterfully she’d drop me on the sheet of paper when she didn’t know the answer, then grabbed me on her fingers and dropped me on her ear. I’d climb up her ear and shout the answer to her. We spent the year together, and I even spent the whole summer with her.

 Next year started great at college. On early September, it was my birthday. Sheila told me she had arranged a big surprise for me. I went to her apartment, where she welcomed me with the usual passionate kiss. She told me not to get dressed up, and I could see she was wearing casual clothes too.
"Happy Birthday my little sixth toe!"
"Thank you, Sheila, it’s always nice to see you!"
She was already smiling at me, and guided me to her room. We got in, and we sat down.

"Greg, I know you’ve spent many, many days studying my feet, my shoes, socks, and you know we both love you being down there. I know that it gets you as excited as you can be, I can feel your little squirms, and I assure you, I’ve felt you blowing your loads on my toes a lot of times! I know you love the everything, the smell, the feel of being tossed around as I walk, the sensation of slipping below the ball of my foot knowing too well that I’ll relentlessly keep walking on you. At the same time, I love you down there, I love you being so small and tiny, yet so precious, devoted to me so much, that you are willing to be so little and so seemingly carelessly walked on. Thank you, Greg. Answer me this, though. Which pair would you say that you love the most?"
"Of course, my love, my goddess", I answered. "This is a difficult choice, but I’d have to say, those pink sneakers you wore the first time you were ever completely big with me. And if I may add, I love it when you wear those with the yellow and white stripe socks!"
Sheila smiled at me, and kissed me passionately. I laid her on her bed, but she stopped me. "Let’s do it inside a certain pink Nike?" and winked. We got up, and I stood side by side after we took our clothes off. She got the pair of pink Nikes out and set it infront of the bed, and even left the pair of yellow and white stripes next to it. I loved that pair, it was so soft, and the stripes were just an inch wide, which meant, I could measure her huge feet directly when tiny. Soon, we were both becoming smaller and smaller. I dropped to my now usual one inch, but Sheila stopped at ten inches tall. She pressed her foot down on me, covering me whole. "You’ll have to climb them to get in!" She chirped, as she effortlessly stepped inside her shoe and vanished. I could picture her, one inch tall, sitting on top of the huge white Nike arrow, waiting for me to appear on the top and climb down the purple walls. I got up and approached her sneaker. As per usual, there was some dust on the sole. The intricate design of the plastic material made it easy for me to climb. Not to mention I was experienced by now! I pulled above the sole, then climbed up the soft material onto the surface of the toes. Now it was easy, I run up to the heavy ropes and walked across their writhing patterns, onto the edges of her shoe. Indeed, she was down there, looking up at me. The smell of her shoe blasted me as I started climbing down, and soon I was running to her. We embraced, and she whispered me a "well done". We got up and walked the surface towards my favourite toe section. She stood right on the black mark of her big toe, and wiggled her toes. "I think it’s a big too big for me, this shoe! I need a smaller size!" I laughed, and knelt down, kissing her toes, kissing the surface they were standing on. I got ready to make love to her, but then, the ground shook. The cavern around us started moving! Sheila yelled "surprise! Happy Birthday! Happy 20!", as she held on to me. We were tossed at the wall of the sneaker, when the motion stopped. "I figured, I’ve got a twin! Not only she wears the same size as me, but I figured we’d sweat the same!" I opened my mouth in wonder, but there was another quake. I turned around just in time to see five massive toes, clad in yellow and white sock, entering the Nike. I turned to Sheila. "Forget that she is Monica, Greg! Think that I am at the same time both wearing you, and being down here with you! Enjoy!" And with that, Monica’s huge toes slid in place. It was, as usual, pitch black. "Have you. . . been inside a walking shoe again?" I asked Sheila. "Monica wore me for a couple minutes on her Uggs yesterday! I think I’m good!"

I grabbed Sheila in the dark just in time. Monica took her first step, and we were thrown around the toe section violently, hitting against the walls of the sneaker and the socked toes. The cloth was still  a bit cold and pretty dry. I couldn’t let Sheila go, though, it’d be hard to find each other in the dark now. Another step. Again we were thrown around violently, but this time, Monica caught us underneath her toes, and scrunched them all over us. I realised, she did it the exact same way Sheila did. She was holding on to me warmly, and I could feel her caressing me. The next steps were easier on us, trapped between the fabric. Monica let go once, and we ended up again being thrown around. The heat started warming up. I could feel it emanating from inside the sock. And suddenly. . . Monica broke into a run.
"I asked her to go jogging, it must be a terrible, I meant, wonderful smell soon here!" Sheila screamed as we were being thrown around at massive speeds all around the sneaker. Some part of the magic surely must remove motion sickness, I thought. One time we slid below Monica’s ball of the foot, and then we realised she had started sweating. The damp cloth was pressing us with humongous force against the purple surface of the Nike, and for every fraction of a second we spent being compressed with immeasurable force, we spent another feeling jerked up and down by the giantesses’ stride. We couldn’t hold on to each other anymore, and when we managed to slide out from our prison, drenched in sweat, we were again violently flung all around the small free space between the toes and the end of the cavern. Not that this space was big, even for our one inch height, however. The shoes fit Monica’s size perfectly, and companies don’t build them with the provision of carrying minuscule passengers. Sometimes, in the fury of her steps, Monica’s toes would reach out and collide with the wall of the toe section. A normal person doesn’t fell that often, but when you are tiny, and you are pounded by a toe big enough to mush you into pulp, you tend to notice it. One of those times when I was being pressed between the end of the toe section and the yellow sock covered toe, I managed to grab on her massive toe, and the smell was overpowering, the sweat pouring out of the fabric to cover me. Sheila was giggling, still being thrown around violently. I let go right after a huge boom resonated in the chamber, meaning Monica stepped down, and was swiftly thrown to the other side as she lifted her foot again. I managed to hold onto Sheila again , and we both grabbed her sister’s pinky toe, hanging on there. "You were right! - Her sweat smells the same - her strides feel the same - and her stomping is merciless - just like - yours! It is - you walking - on us!" I screamed at Sheila in between steps. "I had - no idea -" she answered " that it’d be like - that! - She only - walked - on me - casually - yesterday - with cle- clean socks! - no - no sweat!" But her tone was happy, she loved being with me, even if she didn’t share the crazy arousal I was feeling. I had already sprayed the area once at some point.

Monica stopped once or twice to catch her breath, certainly not for us. Sheila was pretty adamant, that she should pay no attention to us, other than being playful with her tinies when she could. In one of those breaks, we wiggled past the ball of her foot, and under her arch, where her strides were less forceful and softer on us. However, I knew Sheila got too tickly when I was there. And so was Monica. After a few strides, she stopped running, and tilted her foot vertically, and wiggled her toes and ball. Me and Sheila were stuck to the fabric, but the violet motion around us, compared to a couple kicks on the ground was enough to dislodge us, and we fell on the toe section again. Pleased, Monica stomped down, and resumed her careless run. The next time we ended up below her toes, she made clear by flexing them that she wanted us there, and pushed us between the crevices of her socks as best as she could without ever stopping her run.

But her instructions had a second part. She returned home, and washed her face and hands, then poured herself a drink. She sat down, and looked at her right foot. Being twins meant she could easily share clothes with her sister. She pictured the two minuscule people in there, but the feeling was so new to her. She could feet that her socks were drenched. She felt them all along on the way, being thrown around like small pebbles on almost every step. And when they ended up below her foot, she’d find even some guilty pleasure following her sister’s request: just stomp. And when they dared slid underneath her arch and tickle her! But now, it was time for another game. She lifted her toes in the air, and tilted her shoe so that the tinies ended up below her toes. She stepped down, and scrunched her toes, capturing them on the damp sock.

Sheila and I were now trapped in a wet, odorous prison. "I know that you are never more aroused but right after I’m done running", she told me. "I want to taste you, sweetheart. Make love to me, make love to me, I am wearing my pink Nikes and yellow-white inch striped socks! You here, trapped between my toes, drenched on my salt, as you were something tiny underfoot as I ran. Please!"
And so we did. I was very aroused, and it almost hurt. We started making love, and occasionally the toes would flex all around us. I inhaled the fumes which drove me further and further into Sheila.

Monica was smiling. "They are having sex in there. Nice." And she started pleasuring herself on the thought. Indeed, she was wearing nothing now, but the socks and shoes. Her twitches ran across her body, occasionally reaching her toes and stomping on her small love partners, or clenching her toes so tightly that they couldn’t move. Her excitement was rising, and a new wave of warmth and sweat erupted inside the Nikes. Sheila could probably feel that her sister was enjoying herself. Good, she wouldn’t be bored! As for me, I was too lost on being driven crazy by the foot all around me, and making the best sex that ever was to Sheila.
After we finished, Monica’s toes released us, and we went on the free space in front of her toes. She realised that her work was done, and untied the shoe. Light and fresh cold air swarmed in, but only for a second. Monica peeled the wet socks off her feet and stuck them inside the Nike, sealing us off, but still leaving much greater space to move around. Sheila walked over to the sock, then shrunk the pair to her size, and wore them.
"Remember, Greg. It was me walking all over you. I am now small to your size. Show me that you still appreciate me!"

I was almost spent at that moment, but I still had some will left. I approached her, she was sitting down, and I started kissing her socked feet, licking the wet fabric. I removed her socks, and started kissing the whole body of my lover. "You don’t need to wear them today, love; You smell like jogged up foot across your whole body."

When we got out, and grew back to our normal size, we went to see Monica and thank her. She was on the kitchen, preparing my birthday feast. "wow, you guys stink!" She giggled. "Thank you, let’s do that again sometime", she added. Monica was an exact copy of her sister, being her twin. I could tell which is which by the way Sheila’s eyes always flashed at my presence, however. "Thank you, Monica, it really was amazing. How come you don’t have a boyfriend of your own, to initiate him to that magic?"
Monica walked over to me and Sheila, and smiled. We started shrinking yet again, and when she was done, we could only reach her ankle, that rested on top of a black flipflop. She had definitely showered after dumping the socks on us, since her feet smelled of soap. She bent down and picked us up in her strong hands. "You’ll first wash, little ones!" and put us next to a cup of warm water, where she had diluted soap. We undressed and she put us in. We were tall enough to be able to step down, but the water was still up to our shoulders. Me and Sheila helped each other clean ourselves up, then Monica drained the cup and shrunk us to about half an inch. Her powerful fingers caught us and placed us, still dripping water, on her palm. I looked over at Sheila with wonder.
"Monica is just like me Greg. She likes taking care of tiny people she loves, when not walking on them. Lay down on her palm!" I followed her instruction, and watched as Monica brought us to her lips. I knew what would happen, Sheila had done it countless times to me. Her soft breath starting blowing on us, drying us on the spot. After that, she made us a few inches tall again, so we could get dressed, and lest Sheila restored us to proper size.

Monica was only preparing the birthday dinner, but Sheila took over the preparations herself once she was cleaned and ready. The dinner was amazing, she really put all her effort into preparing it. All three of us were now sitting on the living room, enjoying a drink, and chilling from the events of the day. Monica then spoke: "You asked me why I don’t have a boyfriend, Greg. The reason is that I wasn’t as lucky as Sheila, to find a guy that would enjoy being tiny for me. Well, I had one at high school, but it turned out really bad. I also had a size changing accident when I first met him, but it led to no good. And that’s why we mind read you when we first met you, to see whether or not it would be faster to just deal with you, rather than trust you blindly. I hope you understand."

I nodded. "What happened?"

Sheila got up and hugged her sister. "One of those really quiet and smart kids asked her out on the prom. She accepted, and they had a great time. The guy was actually pretty smart. Monica accidentally shrunk him that night, it was actually worse than us. When she got up the next morning, so hangover, she didn’t realise she was carrying him on her panties all along. When she found out, she had to trust him, we swore him to secrecy as we did for you. Things started looking good at first, but he wanted more and more to be the one in control."
I remembered at this point, the very few times where Sheila would shrink and explore my body, or do her own share of pillar climbing on my private area. "Did he . . ?" I asked.
"Yes," replied Monica. "That guy who no one thought would be like that, ended up being quite a psycho. He’d ask me to shrink myself, and he would torture me, and he liked it. You could see him doing it with little to no love. I am sure that when with Sheila, even when she stomps on you, you can feel her love. It was not so with Bobby. One day, he whipped his. . .his thing out and he wanted to.. well .. ."
"I understand, no need to describe it", I said. "What happened next?"
"As soon as I realised, I grew back to my size and shrunk him instantly. I wanted to kill him right on the spot, swat him dead. You know invulnerability while shrunk only works if the giant person cares about you. Sheila was in the next room, and while she advised me many times to not let me get abused against my better judgement, she never tried to stop me from meeting him. But that moment, she could feel my fury, and stormed into the room, and saved Bobby’s life. I was ready to squash him with the same heels I was wearing on the prom. Bobby was scared so much, that when we grew him back, he never dared look at me again, even at school, at times I could sense him shivering when I was walking nearby. We knew he’d never talk to anyone, and who would believe him anyway?"
"That is a pity, Monica. I hope you are not envious of me and Sheila. . . I am sorry you went through that. . ."

"It’s alright Greg. At first, for today, Sheila had to persuade me first. I’d really want to have someone tiny at my feet, but I never felt like that for my sister, we never shrunk each other apart from playing when kids. I actually enjoyed being you two guys’ host, however."
"And we’ll let you again, maybe let Greg explore your own pairs of shoes too!" Sheila added mischievously.

It was at that moment that we heard a crash on the hallway. We got up, bewildered, and I was a bit scared. Did someone break in the apartment? Would the sisters just shrink the person and send him away? Or would they choose not to reveal her powers? Before we could get out from the living room, a small-framed man appeared on the door. It was Bobby.

"You!" Monica screamed. "I told you never to bother me again! How did you find my college apartment? Get lost now, or this time Sheila won’t stop me!" And she looked piercingly at Bobby, as if trying to shrink him. Nothing happened however. I got the urge to get infront of the girls to protect them, but I couldn’t move. I looked at the girls and they were stunned too.

"Witches. . .and I guess this must be one of your toys. I remember you trying to kill me under a heel, Monica. I never forgot your arrogance. You were the girl, witch, you had to obey my command, even if it meant you’d spend your time shrunk to my will! And now, now you will."
"I was disgraced when you dumped me like that. I was the smarted kid in school, and no size-changing witch would best me! So I travelled, I went to hidden places, visited tropical island shamans, or even the remnants of the Celtic occult in England. I visited Indian chiefs and spoke to their loremasters. I managed to get powers of my own, witch. I am back, to make you mine."

I could feel Bobby’s rage and anger, even though her spoke quite calmly. I wanted to hit him, rage at him, but any thought of aggression I made, my mind wouldn’t send the commands to my body. The girls have probably failed shrinking him.
Sheila spoke: "So, you learned how to be a will-bender, Bobby. Of all the magic arts, you studied one of the forbidden arts, the most harmful of all. I . . . I. . ." Sheila wasn’t even able to tell him how disgusted she felt. The three of us felt the urge to sit down again, probably inspired by Bobby’s control. He stood on the other side of the coffee table, looking at us with contempt. Monica was in tears.
"Now, witch", he addressed his ex, "I will first dominate you completely, and what’s more fitting than, have you kill your precious sister and friend. And then, you’ll be mine! I’ll order you to make me huge, bigger than anything else and we- I, and you tied up on my dick - will rule this world!"
Monica whimpered, and she turned to face me and Sheila. Her eyes were tearing, as she shrunk us down to an inch. I run over to Sheila and held her close, looking up at Monica lowering her palm towards us.
"I tried making us big, it won’t work. He’s locked my willpower to use magic.", Sheila stated. Monica’s hand closed on top of us like a dome, and she then turned it around and scooped us up, clenched in a tight fist. I could feel her doing all that slowly, as if trying to shake Bobby’s influence off her body, but she couldn’t. She got up, and carried us to her room. Kneeling, she dumped us on the floor. I realised that I wanted, and that I could run for it. I shook Sheila up, and we made a dash under Monica’s bed. There was a discarded box of tissues there, but the smooth glossy carton was too difficult for us to climb. We just hid behind it and hoped for the best.

Bobby was smiling, and he grabbed Monica, forcing a kiss on her lips. "So you do want me, after all!" he cackled. "First, dispose of them! It will crush your spirit forever!"
Monica went over to her wardrobe. She opened it up, and found what bobby wanted. It was the prom sandals. They were white, with silver straps on the toes, the straps being joint by a star. Her heel was narrow and four inch tall. She retrieved the pair, and sat on her bed, holding it on her hands.
"Let me help you with that" Bobby offered. He went to Monica, and grabbed the pair from her hands. He then knelt, and removed her flipflops, his hands caressing her foot. He put the sandals on her feet, and secured the buckle around her ankle. We could see that happen from our vantage point, and we knew what he would will her to do. Monica got up, and paced around uncertainly. Then she bent low, and first her massive legs, then belly, chest and finally face, came into view. She reached easily onto our hiding spot, and before we could run, caught us. She pulled us out, and set us on the ground infront of her toes. While they were just like Sheila’s, at that moment I was scared. She wiggled her toes, probably trying to regain her will against Bobby. Monica loves us, Monica will never kill us, I reminded myself. Her affection will keep us alive even after she’s stepped on us.
Monica slowly paced around us, and then lifted her foot on the air. I saw the patterns of her sole, mixed with dust and grime. She lowered her foot slowly, and then Sheila bolted out of the way. I followed her, and we were running across the room to the door.

"Stop them!" Bobby’s bellow resounded in the room. Small earthquakes behind us meant Monica was on us. I suddenly felt being picked by the edge of her sandal, and flying through the air crashed on the wall, then fell down. The kick didn’t kill me, but it hurt a lot. She was obviously losing her connection with us quickly. I turned around, and saw something scary. Sheila was pinned beneath her sister’s sandal, but Monica wasn’t stepping on her, but rather just pressing her down only.
I run close to them, and even then I was admiring the massiveness of her foot. Her heel was high up in the air, her massive ankle tied up to the straps, her well-shaped foot leading down to pretty toes. Toes that were now slowly pressing Sheila further. I snapped out of my trance, and run underneath the sandal. I tried tugging Sheila out, but Monica had now lowered her foot too much. She gave in and completely stepped on us.

When Sheila steps on me, it’s always against her sock or foot, and I get molded on the soft fabric or skin when she presses. She tried stepping on me properly a few times, with shoes on, and it was fun too, and sometimes she’d even playfully chase me around to "Squash the bug". But even though I’ve been under a sandal before, this time it hurt. Monica was grinding us on the floor, and I started feeling my body give in. Sheila was being mashed against me. Is this the end?
Suddenly, the foot lifted. We dropped on the floor, in pain, unable to get up, but apart from some minor bruises, we were fine. Monica’s feet were on both our sides now, and they scared me a lot. She was looking down at us, tears on her face. She knew that she hurt us this time, Bobby was channelling his rage through her onto us. And then, Monica lifted her left foot, and pointed her heel at us. "No, please, Monica!" I managed to scream, but this time, the heel crashed down on us, hitting us, stomping us, and she was putting her weight on us. I passed out, my last thought being towards Sheila, whose screams were cut off by the hard material of her sister’s relentless heel.

I woke up on a dark place. I got up, and let my eyes familiarise to the light. Sheila was with me, and so was Monica. The sisters were awake, crying and holding on to each other. I got close to them, hugged them both, and asked "What happened? Where are we? Where’s Bobby?"
Sheila turned to me, and kissed me passionately, tears on her eyes. "You’re alive! Oh sweetheart, thank you!"
"I am so sorry, Monica turned to me. Bobby almost had me kill you guys, but since I know my sister better, you were in bigger danger Greg. I almost lost all feeling for you, and you passed out after I grinded my heel on you. I am so sorry. . . "
"That’s ok, Monica. But what’s going on now? Where are we?"
Sheila held my hand, and pointed behind me. I turned around, and looked at Monica’s prom sandals. Only that, they were now way too huge for even my standards. The thin platform, that I could easily just step onto even as one inch tall, was now probably five times my height. Her other shoe was discarded next to us, and I could see the sole rise up really high, and the heel pointing menacingly, but lifelessly at us. "Really darn small, hm?"

"Yes Greg. Monica managed to compose herself after stomping on us like that - no offence sis - and her first thought was to save us. She instantly shrunk herself to this extreme height, leaving the shoes behind. Bobby is furious, he thought she teleported, couldn’t see the tiny spec moving across the vast white plains of the sandal at his feet. Monica grew enough once he left the room to dislodge us from the heel, and then shrunk us again. As you can see, Bobby didn’t leave the lights on, so we’re just hanging around the last spot he’d ever look at. I think he’s still afraid to get close to those shoes. His domination spell is broken, but we can’t get any bigger than a couple inches just yet."

Bobby had no intention of leaving, of course. He knew we were somewhere in the house. Sheila and Monica tried in turns to grow bigger, but as if he sensed them, we could hear his steps approaching every time they tried. We were now huddled up, partially hidden and immensely tiny on the toe section of Monica’s sandal, close to where the massive straps met the sole. Last time Sheila tried to enlarge herself, she managed to grow a foot tall before Bobby almost caught her. This time, however, Bobby managed to guess enough information. He walked to the sandal, and before we could do anything, bent down and picked it up. Thank goodness we were nested right at the strap! We held on for dear life as he lifted it, and examined it. We were probably specs of dust sized. And he knew now.

"Become big, you hiding idiots!", he ordered, and unable to resist, both Sheila and Monica reverted to one inch tall. They were holding on to the strap as they grew, but I remained tiny. It was scary. They were just an inch tall, but I was so much smaller that their toes were still about three times my height. I would have been aroused by the "tiny on a tiny" idea, if not for being so afraid.
"And the other one!" Bobby’s resounding order came. Sheila looked reluctantly at her feet, and I was soon an inch as well. Bobby dropped the shoe carelessly to the floor, and we tumbled across the floor. However, I could feel his will on us, and us three gathered together. Sheila started growing, until she was normal height again.
"Now, kill your itty boyfriend", Bobby ordered.
Sheila lifted her massive foot above me and Monica. We couldn’t run. Her toes were coming right at us, and she caught us between the big one and the second. She pressed us hard, lifted her foot in the air, then stomped down. This threw Monica away from me. Sheila brought her foot close to me, and I looked up. Her eyes, nested far above her towering body were in tears. Bobby’s will was strong. She shifted her big toe above me, then pressed down and started grinding me. I was in pain, and could not breathe. I thought it was the end, and hoped that the girls wouldn’t meet my end soon enough at each other’s toes. As I was about to pass out from being grinded on the floor, my mind raced to Sheila. I loved her, after all. And I couldn’t protect her now. As this thought exited my mind, and I thought it was all over, her moves hard and seemingly uncaring, I could suddenly feel her warmth. Not just her immense body temperature, but her warm feelings came to me. Her weight didn’t ease, but I felt it not killing me any more, as it was as any other day I was stepped on by her: warm and caring.

"No, Bobby. You die.", I heard her as the toe released me. I stood up, and barely managed to see Bobby shrinking, as I was growing. He lunged at her, but she was already too big, and kicked him away. We met when we were both at about two feet, where I punched him hard on the face. Bobby fell back, in disbelief, and shouting. Somehow his spell was broken when me and Sheila connected as I was suffocating, and it broke her free.
Soon, Bobby was two inches tall, and I was up to Sheila’s and Monica’s breasts. Looking up to their faces,  I saw Sheila looking at me. "Thank you, Greg. I felt your love. . ." And she smothered me in her embrace, my face buried on her breasts. Monica scooped bobby up, and held him on her palm.
"Fast and painful, you son of a worm."
She held him on her hand, as she opened her wardrobe. She took out a pair of hiking boots.
"Haven’t had a reason to wear these ugly things for a while.", she smiled, and set Bobby down. He started running, but I run and caught him before he could hide.
"I would feel honored to be crushed by your pretty sandals, Monica", I said while looking at him squirming at my palm. But I guess being trodden on like a piece of mud would be better. Monica was ready. I set Bobby on the floor, and before he could take a step forward, her boot was on top of him. We heard the crunch, and she twisted the ball of her foot, again and again and again, until the pool of red seeped out below her sole. "I’m not wearing those ever again", Monica commented. She untied her boots, and sat on her bed, crying. Sheila got close to her, and shrunk, until Monica would be no taller than a first grader. Carefully she picked her little twin up, and held her close in her embrace. "It’s all over now, sis. He’s gone. He almost killed us, but he’s done for." Monica threw her small arms around her big sister, and felt her warmth.

It felt like a private matter between the two, so I turned my gaze from them. I looked at the hiking boots on the floor. I might have been interested in riding one of those at some point, but now, I picked the pair up, and saw the mess on the floor. I went to the bathroom and picked up some paper, then came back to the room, and cleaned up the floor, until the gory mess wasn’t there anymore.
Sheila came close to me, carrying her sister still close as if she was her babysitter. "About those", she said, then kissed me on my forehead. I looked at my hands and the boots were really small, smaller than an action figure’s gear. "Easier to throw away", she added. I nodded, then went back to the bathroom, flushing the paper and the tiny boots.

~~~
Two years later
~~~

A witch’s wedding is something very few people attend. It is governed by two rules. First, the wedding has to be held in a matter that reminds the guests of her family powers, and second, only people who knew about magic could participate. We held a public wedding for our friends and my family, but this was the real thing for Sheila.
The room was quite small, and the floor was empty of furniture. The walls were decorated with white and pink cloths, and across the floor flower petals were thrown down. In the middle, a group of about thirty people, all one inch tall, were sitting on appropriate sized chairs.

The door opened, and a magnificent Monica entered the room, full height. She was wearing a white dress that reached up to her ankles, and was wearing white flat sandals decorated by pearls. Everyone turned around and looked at her, as her steps rumbled the ground. She walked over the people, and stepped across the procession. People that were looking up saw her shoe hovering menacingly over them for a second, before she stepped on the other side, in front of a tiny altar. Everyone turned around and saw her bend down, untying her right sandal. She removed her  foot, and the crowed gasped, as I was revealed, having been pressed by the ball of her foot. I stepped down from the shoe and onto the altar. Then Monica sat down, in such a way that her legs circled the whole area and formed high walls, enclosing the guests in. She reached into her bossom and removed a small box made of ebony, and set it down. She opened the box, and set her finger inside it. Waiting for a second, and looking at the tiny people trying to see what’s inside, she removed it, and the bride, my Sheila, was standing on her fingertip. She carefully set her down on the altar beside me, then patted us both with her index. The crowed applauded, and the ceremony started.

After we were done exchanging our vows, and walked through each other’s ring, before they were shrunk down so we could wear them, it was time for the kiss. I bent forward, and our lips met, now a married couple. The crowd applauded, and even more when I felt Sheila adjust her height a bit so that, standing on her wedding heels, she was now taller than me.
A butterfly fluttered through the window, a magnificent animal, with green and blue wings. It landed in front of the altar, and given the size of the guests, it was indeed a very large insect.
"Your honeymoon tickets!" Sheila’s father got up from his chair as he announced to us, and to the crowd that was a bit afraid of the sudden appearance. He stepped close to us, shook my hand, then embraced me. "My best wishes to you both, Greg and Sheila. I am afraid you are a bit too big for your transport, however!" Sheila nodded. "How much?" "One third of an inch should do." We walked behind the butterfly, which was slowly fluttering, and had set the end of its body on the ground. Astonished, I watched as I saw mounted on it’s body two small seats. Sheila petted me on my head, then shrunk us both to a third of an inch. We climbed up and sat on the seats. The body of the butterfly was warm, and some of its hair was serving as a seatbelt!

We sat, "buckled" and watched the crowd one more time, before Monica reached down with her hand. The butterfly walked on her palm, then she brought it, and us, close to her face. "Congratulations!" she said, beaming, and gently breathed out on the butterfly. It instantly took off, out of the window, and into our honeymoon adventure.