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.