Chapter 15: Must Really Like It
“ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DO THIS?”
“Yes,” I say.
“YOU’RE NOT SCARED?”
Maybe I am a little. I give a little shrug. She sighs.
”YOU MUST REALLY LIKE BEING IN THESE SHOES.”
I nod.
“OKAY,” she says, “HERE GOES.”
She lowers me into the converse and places me at the end of the shoe in the toe section.
“DON’T MOVE."
Her massive fingers recede, and then reappear later with a strip of masking tape. She gently places the strip across my abdomen and presses the ends down firmly into the sole. Her fingers leave again, and then I feel my stomach move around as she lifts the shoe and moves it side to side in the air.
“IS THAT GOOD? CAN YOU MOVE?”
I don’t know whether to answer yes or no to the question, so I yell “It’s good!”
“OKAY,” she says hesitantly, “HERE GOES. REMEMBER THE SIGNAL!”
The signal is to pound on her foot repeatedly if I’m dying. It’s almost a joke, but we couldn’t think of anything better.
The shoe moves again, and then soon her foot enters the shoe. The black stockinged foot blocks all the light, pushes out the air as it moves forward. In total darkness I can sense the toes above me and the ball of her foot right next to me. Slowly she lowers her toes over my body, and I am snug in the hollow they make.
“IS THAT OKAY?” her muffled voice says from above.
I reach up and tap her toe once. It’s more of a punch. It’s the other signal, which means everything is fine.
“OKAYYY, HERE WE GO THEN.”
The ride is this time is far more pleasurable. I am snug and secure and warm and horny. The rise and fall feeling in my gut is actually pleasant once I get used to it. The only downside is with the tape I can’t hump the underside of her toes. That and it starts to get really warm, but that isn’t too bad.
When we get to the restaurant she takes off her shoe and whispers into it, “ARE YOU OKAY?”
She reaches in a takes the tape off the shoe. She pulls me and the tape out, and then gently pulls the tape off my body.
“I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE GOING TO DO IN MY LOCKER ALL DAY. I TOLD YOU I DON’T HAVE ANYWHERE ELSE TO PUT YOU.”
“I know, that’s okay. It was worth it,” I say.
She puts her sneakers into her locker and then puts me in after. She reaches in and pulls something out. It’s her work shoes, the black Mary Janes with three-inch heels and a bow. I get a momentary flash back of being crushed underneath them, and I shudder involuntarily. I walk to the edge of the locker and look down. I watch her put on the shoes. They look really good on her. Even after being killed underneath them, I can’t deny that they are sexy.
“OKAY,” she says, “I’LL CHECK BACK ON YOU ON MY BREAK.”