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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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.

*****

"Mmph..." 

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

Chapter End Notes:
To be continued, and hopefully soon! :D
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