Unfortunately, the conversation seemed to progressively get worse.

My mom was obviously defending some action of hers against the individual on the phone, and at times she seemed to forget I was under her foot, as sudden, unexpected bursts of weight would flatten me out even further, followed by periods were she seemed guilty of that and would arch her foot to release the pressure on her son.

After a seeming eternity, the conversation ended, and my mom stood, cracking the bones inside my body.  I screamed in pain, but the fabric smothering my mouth and nose muffled every last decibal.  All I could do was endure my mom's steps, each one crashing down on top of me like a wrecking ball.  Having her stand on my back was even more painful than having her foot rest on my chest, and I wondered how much further she would go before releasing me from this new torture.

Before long, she removed her foot, and peeled my from her sole.  Again, we were alone in an office, and as she placed me on her palm, I inhaled the cool, fresh oxygen deeply.  Bringing me near her face, I saw tears were in her eyes.

"I'm so sorry, honey!" she boomed, forgetting my tiny ears were sensitive to such noises.  "I didn't expect her to ask me for more information!"

I watched as she opened a drawer near her and removed her black leather purse. 

Placing it on her lap, she snapped open the buttons and smiled sadly.

"I know placing you inside this purse is degrading, but I can't risk anyone finding you...and I don't want to hurt you under my foot again!"

I felt terrible! Not knowing what I could do to comfort her, I blurted out something that I thought might console her.  "It's okay!" I yelled.  "I liked the way your feet smelled! So, it wasn't all bad!"

That, of course, was completely untrue, but I hoped it would at least lessen her guilt.  She did seem to perk up after I said that.

"Really? I don't see how, honey, because they feel very hot and sticky.  You're just saying that, aren't you?" she asked, smiling sadly again.

Not liking the hole I was digging for myself, but figuring it could do no real harm, I confirmed it for her.  "Really! They smell like your bodywash! Fruity!"

She giggled, feeling better now, and her palm shook.  "You're such a nice boy, honey.  Thank you for that."

Feeling like I had accomplished my task of lessening her guilt, I pressed my luck and blurted out more lies: "I could even smell them again! If you have time, I mean!"

I couldn't believe what I was saying! Instantly regretting that statement, I stopped talking before more nonsense left my mouth.  Her odor really had affected my mind!

A quizzical look washed over her face.  "Really? You want to...smell them? I would hate to torture you more, honey."

I looked down, afraid to say more, and realized that I had once again managed an erection! Shocked by what I now saw, I looked up, and my mom noticed it as well.

"Wow, honey...I guess you are telling the truth!" She giggled some more.  "Well, before we leave, would you like to...smell them? It seems a bit gross, but knowing you liked the smell...well, it makes me feel less bad!"

I couldn't back out now! If I told the truth, she would be doubly hurt by my lies!

"Y-yes," I murmured.

"What?" she asked.

"Yes!" I shouted.  "Let me...smell them again! Before we leave! Thank you mom!"

I felt sick.  How had this happened?!

"Okay, well," she said, crossing her left leg over her right and setting the purse aside, "how's this?"

Pinching me gently, she lowered me down toward her left foot, allowing her high heel to drop off to the floor.  I watched as the shoe bounched onto its side, and my body froze as she lowered me towards her red-flushed foot.  As I got closer, I could feel the heat emanating from it like a furnace, the smell already overpowering.  But, there was no backing out now, for my mom's sake!

Pressing my chest lightly against her sole, I could see her watching from the corner of my eye.  I had to be convincing, or her day would be ruined even further! Bracing myself, I placed my face against the moist skin and inhaled deeply, purposefully allowing the stink and humid odor to wash down my nostrils and into my lungs.  I could taste foot odor, fabric and traces of body wash on my tongue.

Breathing out, I coughed quietly, and I again pressed my face against her skin and inhaled deeply.  I couldn't believe I was willingly inhaling the odor from my mom's stinky foot!

"Wow, honey," she said, "I guess you were telling the truth! You know, traffic will be really bad right now.  We can spend some more time here and wait for it to thin out before we leave.  That will give you more time to smell my feet."

Her...feet! Both of them? What had I gotten myself into?!

"I mean...would you like that? Or, should we just leave now?" She pulled me away from her skin.  What should I say? That I desperately wanted to leave, because her foot's odor was overpowering? Or, that I wanted to smell it more--knowing that doing that would make her feel less guilty?

"I...I can smell some more, mommy," I answered.  What had I done? Why did I call her that?

"What, honey?" she asked, leaning over.

"I want to smell your feet!" I shouted.  "I want to kiss and smell your feet!"

Kiss?! Maybe I really was enjoying this--or simply enjoying the dominance of my mother on her little son!

"Um, okay," she said, probably taken aback by my desire to kiss her feet.  "I'm going to call a cab, but in the meantime, you can...kiss and smell my feet."  She seemed nervous, understandably.  Placing her left foot on the carpeted floor, she slowly brought me to the floor as well and deposited me in front of her beautiful toes.

She then removed her right foot from the other hight heel and placed it on the floor as well.

Standing, I was dwarfed by her giant toes and red toenails.  Her big toe easily reached higher than I could even jump, and already the heat from it blasted me.  I looked up, the mountain of a woman dominating my view.  Slowly, surely, I walked up to her big toe, pressed my face against her skin, and inhaled deeply, then began kissing her thick, hot, sticky skin.  I had to be convincing, and so, as she called the cab company to arrange for our ride back to the hotel, I kissed each toe on each foot, smelling them, licking them, and swallowing the sweat of my mom's foot over and over again, hoping to make her happy and convince her I enjoyed this new torture.