“H-Hey, this isn’t what we agreed!” Rudy protested.

“As a matter o’ fact, it’s exactly what we agreed,” Lyra’s booming voice insisted. “You wagered a hefty portion o’ your mana on that last race, an’ you lost.”

Rudy Rochambeau and Lyra Larson had both finished their respective work days and were back at their shared apartment for the night. They had just enjoyed a meal, and until moments ago, were winding down with some video games. Lyra had even had a drink or two, and it had begun to have an impact on her motor skills—ironic, considering they had settled upon a kart-racing game starring a pair of prolific, mustachioed brothers. Rudy had grown overconfident and decided to place a friendly bet…and lost spectacularly to a stroke of bad luck. Now he found himself lamenting his hubris—and their choice of game.

“That’s right, and I already gave you your prize—so much, in fact, that I don’t have enough mana left to maintain my full size—but that’s not the issue here!”

With her opponent now predisposed, Lyra had deliberately splayed out a colossal pair of bare, purple-skinned feet on either side of him, and he could only gawk with indignation. The succubus’s giant, black-painted toes dwarfed his tiny body completely. From Rudy’s perspective, the experience was akin to staring down the gullet of a ravenous beast, moments before snapping its jaws shut and entrapping its prey. Sure enough, the tiny half-elf was transfixed like a deer in headlights.

“Well, as far as I’m concerned, we’re even, so I’m not really seein’ any issue.” Her toes wiggled playfully, as if preparing to pounce on their new playmate, and a leery smile tugged at the corner of her black-painted lips. “What could you be talking about, I wonder?”

Rudy wanted to speak out in protest, but his lip quivered a bit as he stopped himself short. It was true that accounts were settled, but his tiny size left him vulnerable and prone, and she knew that. He could leverage his magic, but he would never deliberately brandish it against someone unless his life were threatened. Loosened up by her intoxication as she was, he had a gut feeling that Lyra was going to take full advantage of his predicament.

“And since you’re too itty-bitty to hold your controller anymore, I’m thinkin’ our game is on hold for now,” she asserted, putting the console into sleep mode. As the game went silent, a certain stillness fell upon the room, as though the night itself were coaxing them along. “Besides, my feet are so sore from workin’ all day…” As if to punctuate her incoming provocation, Lyra paused and pointedly flexed her toes. She stared down firmly at the diminutive Rudy, and a coy smirk played across her face.

“…and I’ve got just the tiny li’l masseur to make ‘em feel all better.”

Rudy’s words caught in his throat somewhat, and he could feel his face steadily growing flush. Still, he decided to play along. “O-Oh, sure, why not! Anything else you might want while I’m at it?”

“Well, since you’re askin’…” Lyra’s gaze shifted briefly as she weighed her response, and Rudy could already tell he was going to regret having ever asked. “…I think I’ve also got room for dessert,” she finally admitted, gently patting her belly. “Nothin’ too indulgent, mind—just a li’l sweet fix is all.” Her eyes widened slightly as they traced him up and down, and she slowly brought her finger to the corner of her mouth, as though she were seriously considering it. Rudy could swear she had even licked her lips.

He gulped. “I-I’m not really in the mood for dessert. Perhaps another time?”

Lyra didn’t reply. Still wearing that smirk, she turned her nose up at him just a bit and inched her feet closer, as if telling him to get to work. Obviously, there would be no getting out of this. Rudy heaved a small sigh, and realized he would be lying to himself if he said he wouldn’t like it, either.

Plus, it was better than the alternative. Probably.

Trying his best not to let his excitement show, he drew near her right foot and tentatively pressed his hands into the soft flesh of her giant sole. Her toes reflexively curled a little at his touch, but Lyra otherwise remained still. If there was anything Rudy knew about her, it was that she ran hot, and her warmth always took him by surprise. Having partaken of a couple of drinks, she was running even hotter than usual. The warmth of her skin welling up in his hands was a markedly pleasant feeling, and he suspected he could very well fall asleep on her foot if the urge took him. Still, he had a job to do—or so she would have him believe.

Steeled for the task ahead, Rudy began to massage the sole of her foot as firmly as his tiny body would allow. In addition to their palpable warmth, her feet carried the faint aroma of sweat—not as though she had been neglecting her hygiene in the slightest, but it was obvious that she had been on her feet today. As he worked, he began to find her scent almost comforting. Lyra was his roommate of over a year, and over time, he began to associate the half-demon and her myriad quirks with home. In spite of his exertions, Rudy subconsciously allowed himself to relax a little. He couldn’t really reach any higher, but he still put everything he had into it. He wanted to make her happy, after all.

“Mmmm… That’s the stuff. You oughta do this full time,” Lyra murmured. Her smirk widened into a full-blown grin as she leaned back against the sofa and closed her eyes. “Y’know, I bet you lost on purpose. If you wanted this so badly, all you had to do was ask. I love havin’ you all to myself like this.”

“Hah! You of all people should know that I’d never deliberately throw a match,” Rudy retorted, grinning like a madman. “Besides, that game is a smoldering dumpster fire of bad luck, and you know it.”

“Oh, is that why you gave me a 10-second head start?”

“Well, I wanted to have some challenge.”

Lyra mockingly pursed her lips and glared down at him, as though he had just delivered a scathing insult. “Oh, yeah? How’s this for a challenge, then?” Without any further warning, his surroundings suddenly shifted as Lyra brought the soles of her feet together, squishing and sandwiching the tiny Rudy firmly between them. The beast had finally chomped down; everything around him went completely dark. The soft flesh of her foot began to conform slightly to the shape of his body, and his arms and legs were completely immobilized. Thus did they remain for a considerable moment.

“…I-I can’t very well give you that massage like this,” Rudy’s muffled voice finally stammered. She wasn’t causing him any pain or discomfort, but he also couldn’t move in the slightest. Even so, he relished the intimacy of the experience as her warmth and softness enveloped him completely, and he almost didn’t want it to end.

“Oh, I’m sure we can work somethin’ out,” Lyra cooed, twirling a lock of her pink hair in her fingers. “Maybe I’ll just pop you into my sock before I leave tomorrow, an’ you can massage my feet all day long. Nobody’d even know.”

Rudy’s breathing staggered a bit as he grew a bit excited by the prospect. By then, he would surely have regained enough mana to restore his size, but that level of intimacy gave him pause. He imagined himself plummeting into the bottom of her black and rainbow-striped sock, cradled by colorful fabric, barely illuminated by faint, penetrating light. He would scramble to get his bearings, only for her entire fishnet-clad foot come barreling in after him, ravenous toes curling and wiggling as they closed in, pinned him down, and smothered his tiny body. The last bit of light would fade as she then slipped her boot on, and throughout the course of the day, he would be slowly overcome by her heat and her scent, all the while secretly laboring to please her from within its dark confines…

“Don’t be gettin’ too excited there. You still have a whole ‘nother foot to get to,” Lyra chided knowingly, interrupting his train of thought. Resolved to set Rudy back to work, she parted her feet once more, only to glimpse his tiny body plastered firmly to the sole of her right foot. Though his face was obscured by her flesh, she could tell he had been fiercely blushing.

“R-Right, right. I’m on it.” With his arms now free, he pushed back against her sole and managed to prise himself free from its adhesion, falling a negligible distance and landing squarely on his backside. His pearly, silver-hued hair had been disheveled somewhat, his half-rimmed glasses were askew (which he quickly rectified), he was still quite red in the face, and he generally looked surprisingly exhausted by his ordeal. Lyra paused to consider her next move, looking him up and down.

“…On second thought, maybe you could use a li’l break.”