My head throbbed mercilessly.  For the briefest of moments, I tried to make sense of the intense pain.  A hangover? From what party?

Deep, thick darkness shrouded my body, and I reached up to massage my scalp, only to feel my left arm restrained.  Confused, I attemped to raise my other arm, only to discover that it, like my legs, was unresponsive.  Struggling against an unseen confinement, I wiggled my body and began to panic.

Then I remembered.

The Asian parlour "mother"! Her foot! My body--shrunk! 

Her foot! Hovering over me...descending upon me...covering me...crusing me!

I recalled it all.  I had failed to pay a measly 50 dollars, and had been treated to the mother's "punishment," which I suspected now was as much a pleasure trip for her as it was any kind of penalty leveled against me.  I could still feel, mentally, the immense weight that had ground my body against the unforgiving plastic.  I must have passed out from lack of oxygen, explaining the massive headache.

I aborted my struggle and decided to lay still.  I had no power to free myself; any further effort to do so would only weaken me even more.  I was at her disposal now, and if I wanted to survive this unimaginable situation, I would have to calm down and try to find additional means of freedom.  Maybe I could strike some kind of bargain with her.

At that moment, searing white light replaced the comforting darkness.  I squinted my eyes, desperate to shield my face with a hand.  As I slowly opened my eyes, I could make out a famaliar form hovering over me.  The Asian mother.

As my eyes adjusted, I found myself still bound to the high heel, which had now been placed on the old couch.  The mother sat beside me, causing the couch to shake.  I didn't say a word.  She looked at me with a face that indicated this situation was more business to her than pleasure.  Perhaps I had misjudged her!

The mother leaned over me, her giant breasts dominating my view.  I turned my head and watched as she reached under the shoe, and after a moment, I felt the straps keeping me in place loosen with a light snapping sound, until I was finally able to move my arms and legs.  Instantly, I sat up, then tried to stand, only to fall back to the plastic in a fetal position.

The pain in my muscles was matched by the agony I felt in the joints of my arms and legs.  Aside from a headache, my body felt bruised and battered, and I struggled to breathe as the pain only slightly subsided.  I had indeed been tortured!

Coughing, I sat up again, holding my kness and feeling painfully naked.  Even my testicles throbbed, and I hoped no permanent damage had befallen them.  I looked over to the mother, whose giant breasts still hovered over my body.  Was she freeing me? I begged it to be true.

"You no pay.  That no good customah." She spoke gently, though the sound still boomed around my tiny form. 

"I'm...I'm sorry!" I cried out.  I wasn't sure if she could hear me.  My lungs felt empty and sore, and my throat scratched with each breath.  "Please!" I rasped.  "Make me normal again!"

She only smiled matter-of-factly, as if she had expected this request from me and had long made her mind up as to her response.  "That 25 dollah crush," she said plainly.  "You still owe 25 moh dollah."

I couldn't believe what she was saying.  Was she indicating the punishment...was only half over? I tried to stand, desperate to flee the shoe and willing to fling myself to the couch below.  As I reached my feet, the Asian mother reached toward me and pinched me between her thumb and index finger.  Two hot pillars of soft skin encapsulated my body, leaving only my head and feet free.  I was buried between her fingers, and she brought me toward her slightly-wrinkled face.

I struggled between her fingers, and she repayed me by squeezing harder, compressing me tightly.  I felt the muscles in her fingers working to keep me still, and I once again relaxed, allowing her will to be done with my puny body.

As I was brought toward her face, I could smell the perfume drifting off the tips of her fingers, fililng my lungs yet again.  Positioned directly in front of her face, I noticed how much larger her wrinkles were when viewed from this vantage point.  Her lightly-browned skin and heavy makeup remained untouched from our last meeting.

I watched as she pursed her lips together and blew lightly against my face.  Her hot breath smelled strongly of brown rice and various grassy herbs.  I turned my face, unable to take a breath as the hot air passed over my eyes and nose, burning my eyes.  When she stopped, I inhaled as much as her thumb and finger allowed.  She repeated the process again, my hair feeling swept as if caught in a particularly violent wind-storm.  She blew on my face longer this time, so much that even my feet became hot, and I felt the moisture from her mouth began to build on my skin.  She stopped, and I again savored the paltry oxygen that creeped into my lungs.

She blew on my helpless face a third time, and as she continued the bizarre behavior, I detected movement inside her fingers.  My penis was struggling to become erect, pressed as it was against her thumb.  She, too, must have felt the sensation, for she then placed me in the palm of her over hand, removing her thumb and finger.  As I sat down and filled my pained lungs with more oxygen, I glaned at my crotch and discovered that I, indeed, had been quite turned on by the experience. 

She smiled, and then engaged in a fairlry shrill bit of laughter, finally stopping by saying, "You want moh? You want happy ending twice? That make 75 dollah you owe."

I didn't understand.  75 dollars?

Suddenly, the hand and I descended toward the floor, making me momentarily nasaus.  I held on to a slightly rough patch of hot skin, my butt feeling oddly comforted on her palm. 

I watched as she placed her palm near the ground, directly next to her left foot.  Her giant toes and foot then raised from the floor, and I watched agape as her big toe hovered over her plam and my little body.  The underside of her big toe was flushed from her walk, the skin reddish against the backdrop of lighter brown.  Small, visible strands of delicate blue carpet fibers became visible as she lowered the massive boulder towards my body, miniscule wrinkles only detectable by the best of magnifying glasses becoming quite obvious to my eyes.

I fell to my back, and hands, arms and legs instinctively splayed out in all directions.  As the toe blocked off my view of her face, a new wave of heat swept from its underside, and I felt my penis grow painfully fast amidst this new stimulus.

Unable to speak, I tensed my muscles and bracked for more crush, the aroma of the perfume washing over my body.  As the lowest bit of skin from her toe lighly settled on my heaving chest, I heard her speak again.

"You like.  I know you like.  You make big stick."

I couldn't deny it.  The warmth of her skin...the total dominance of a slightly older Asian women over my shrunken form...her punishment that both defied logic and sanity...it was practically intoxicating.  My penis throbbed in anticipation, more so than it had after her initial massage so long ago. 

Ever so gently, more skin was allowed to rest upon my chest, slowly covering my stomach and stopping short of both my penis and my mouth.  Her control over her toe and palm amazed me.  I wondered how many people had been "punished" before me.

I felt my heart throb, my headache gone and all thoughts resting upon how impossibly hot her toe was.  The pressure was real but not unbearable.  I could barely detect the rough carpet fibers against my chest and stomach, and without any forethought, I reached my head toward her skin and began to lick the underside of her toe as my arms lay trapped beside me. 

I continued licking, raising my head over and over again, desperate to get the taste of her skin inside my mouth.  My tongue scoured her surprisngly rough skin, bits of carpet getting stuck to my lips.  I ignored them, and as I licked her toe, I inhaled as much odor from her foot as my lungs would accomadate.  The base odor of her foot was matched by the thick perfume, and all rational thought left my mind.

I continued licking the hot toe, allowing its heat to enter my mouth, and just as I began to hump my penis toward her skin, she seemed to anticipate that desire and lowered her toe further upon my body until she had covered all aspects of my person expect my face.  The pressure on my body was tight, confining, but just light enough to allow friction against my penis as I ground it back and forth against her toe, losing all feeling in my member as her hot skin covered my naked form like spa water.

Even as I licked her foot, I felt the Asian mother, ever so slightly, grinding her toe in response to my movements, delicately joining my penis in a perverted, sexual dance, her pressure increasing, releasing, and increasing in just the right rythem so that my whole body began to shake with desire.  Whereas moments before, I had been frightened of her dominance, I now craved her power over me, and found myself actually biting into the skin of her toe, desperate to rip off even a shred of skin and swallow it.

As I bit into her toe, I was only slightly aware of her moaning, and I vaguely wondered if she was "egging" me on, or pleasuring herself as she rubbed her big toe back and forth against my member.

I didn't care.  Consumed by lust, my mouth filled with the flavor of her foot, my penis lost in an endless torrent of hot skin, I ejaculated, my penis continuing to grind.  I spasmed again and again, freeing my burden on her toe, the pressure of her toe making the process painful, as I felt my penis slightly blocked.  I ceased biting her toe, and cried out in pain as she continued grinding my penis, the ejaculate escaping slowly.  She finally released some pressure from my groin, and I spasmed again, finally expelling myself on her toe and breathing out deeply.  I had finished, and my body instantly fell limp, perhaps more exhausted than ever.  For a brief moment, I fell in love with the Asian mother, and wished the torture a thousand times longer.

As my ejaculation stopped, the Asian mother removed her toe from my body, and I became aware again that I had been pressed against her palm the entire time, though I was now bured quite deep in the folds of her skin.  My body felt sweaty, and I was stuck to her palm as her toe ascended from my chest and legs, no doubt covered in a copious amount of my release.

I lay in place, unable to move, and as I regained some compusure, a wave of guilt flowed over me.  I had never felt such ecstacy.  The momentary love I felt for the mother gave way to one of confusion as I pondered my actions.  How could I have allowd myself to give in to her toruture? To derive such pleasure from it?

As I looked up at her face, so far away now as she leaned back a bit, a small, business-like smile emerged. 

"That cost you 50 moh dollah.  Now you owe 75 dollah.  You pay moh now."

Ice ran through my blood.  Had she planned this? Had she devised this situation to "force" me to owe more money? She raised her palm back towards the shoe on the couch.  As I was brought closer to the plastic prision, my testacles began to ache once more.