The shrieks of cheerleaders reverberated through the gym, stabbing the ears of any within its vast confines. The lithe and attractive girls tumbled and pranced through their synchronized routines, while students playing basketball nearby gave them sidelong glances of admiration.

John cast them sidelong glances as well, but certainly not of admiration. Their incessant howls disturbed his concentration, and table tennis was a sport that required maximal focus. He and the rest of the Table Tennis Club had set up shop on a nearby basketball court, as they did every Tuesday and Thursday evening. Unfortunately, the Table Tennis Club shared the other half of the court with those screaming banshees at precisely the same time.

John shook his head and resolved to endure. Practice was winding down for the night anyway.

Five or so minutes later, they started folding up the tables and picking up balls. As usual, a number of the balls flew well outside the makeshift barriers they erected each practice, so John went out to fetch them. Several of them happened to roll towards the cheerleaders, but thankfully they looked to be finishing up as well. John didn’t want experience their ten million decibel throats at close range.

He was just reaching down for a ball when a white sneaker appeared out of nowhere. With a loud crunch, the ball was no more.

“Oops,” giggled a tall blond. “I didn’t see you there.”

John tried to suppress his annoyance. “No problem,” he said. “We have plenty of them.”

“Oh really?” said another girl, this one a brunette. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I did this?” She must have taken off her shoes and socks previously, because now she rested her bare foot on another unoffending ping pong ball. In an instant, it disappeared beneath girl’s foot. “Wow, it feels amazing barefoot. You should try it, Lisa!” She sauntered over to where another ball lay and tossed it to the blond, who had already begun removing her left sneaker and sock.

“Stop that!” demanded John. He could feel his face turning red, and his voice shook slightly.

“Oh come on,” pouted Lisa. “You said you had plenty of these, right? They’re so much fun to step on!” She stood with her hands on her hips, her foot held menacingly over another victim. Without thinking, John lunged for the ball, but Lisa was ready. She sent him backwards with a well-aimed kick to the chest. The impact left an uncomfortable imprint on his chest, and he could smell the sweat from a long day’s practice wafting up to his nose.

The blonde cheerleader waited just long enough for him to look up before smashing her foot down on the ball. It obliterated instantly – the soft plastic shell was no match for her relatively massive foot. As John watched, she started to grind her foot back and forth over the ball’s remains.

“You ping pong nerds crack me up,” she sneered. “See ya around.”

John sat for a minute after she had left, staring at the plastic remnants of the ball. He felt anger and shame… but he also felt… aroused?

…

All through practice on the following Tuesday, John found himself casting sidelong glances… at Lisa’s feet. He couldn’t get last week’s incident out of his head. When he got home on that strange evening, he masturbated to the image of Lisa crushing that ping pong ball and the memory of her raunchy scent. With these thoughts swirling through his head, John’s mind oscillated between horniness to self-hate until the conclusion of practice.

He had just packed up his duffel bag when he heard someone call his name. It was Lisa and the brunette. “Hey, you,” she greeted him with a flirtatious smile. “We just wanted to apologize for stepping on your…” Both girls tried mightily to suppress their laughter. “…balls the other day. Please come with us and we’ll make it up to you.”

John was speechless. He hadn’t expected this at all. Were they for real?

“We’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” laughed the brunette. “My name is Chelsea by the way,” she said extending her hand. “And you’ve already met Lisa.”

“Uh… John,” he said, giving it a shake. Chelsea’s much larger hand enveloped his, which served to remind him that he was quite short. Both girls towered over him by an obvious margin.

“Come on,” urged Lisa. “We’ve got something amazing in store for you.”

The two girls giggled and gossiped all the way across campus, leaving John to follow in silence. He had no idea what these girls intended, but of course his imagination went immediately to such things as threesomes and other debauchery. More likely they had baked him a cupcake or something, but it did surprise him that they would do anything for him at all. They seemed like typical, self-absorbed cheerleaders – not the type to do something like this. As they walked in front of him, he did look occasionally at their feet.

Finally, their journey ended and what appeared to be the two girls’ dorm room. Chelsea held the door open for him, and he entered the room to a blinding flash. “What the hell?” he muttered, blinking furiously to regain his vision. When he did, his jaw dropped.

There, directly in front of him, was a simply titanic pair of sneakers – Lisa’s, to be exact. He craned his neck upwards and confirmed that, yes, this was a somehow gigantic Lisa that he was standing in front of. Twisting his neck around, he saw that Chelsea had gained similar proportions, and then he realized that they hadn’t gotten larger – he had gotten smaller. He was still in the girls’ dorm, but now at a fraction of the size. Both girls stared down at him with wicked grins, and his mind flashed back to the ping pong balls. A cold fear gripped his heart as he remembered the hollow plastic flattening beneath their feet, but at the same time he felt that insistent arousal making its way down to his pants. He gave his head a vigorous shake, hoping that this was all just a bad dream.

“All right, little man,” announced Lisa without preamble. “Here’s the deal: we shrunk you to your current size for the sole purpose of… entertaining us. If you’re a good boy and do as we say, we won’t squash you like those ping pong balls. Got it?”

John gulped and nodded.

“He looks like he’s about to piss himself!” shouted Chelsea with a giggle.

“Okay, why don’t we start with a little foot massage? Pull up a chair, Chelsea.” They both removed their sneakers and stretched their legs out to so that their feet rested on their heels, toes slightly in the air. This simple movement by the two giantesses made John nauseous with vertigo. He couldn’t comprehend how such massive beings could move so quickly. Now he stared at two pairs of white socks, the toes wiggling eagerly underneath. Looking up, he could see their legs extend up to their bodies, which towered above him like skyscrapers in the distance. He could easily make out their mocking expressions, even if he couldn’t quite comprehend the distance in between.

“Don’t be shy,” encouraged Chelsea, nudging him slightly with her big toe. It felt like being shoved by a 300lbs bouncer – a very smelly 300lbs bouncer. “Get to work and nothing bad will happen to you.”

Scrunching up his nose in distaste, he began to rub the rough fabric of the cheerleader’s sock. Darker patches of fabric testified to the many practices of abuse the fibers had been through, and it didn’t help that the two co-eds had just finished another one. As he rubbed, the smell actually got worse; the stench permeated the air, causing him to cough involuntarily.

“Oh, the little munchkin doesn’t like the smell of your foot, Chelsea.” Lisa pointed to her own sock and said, “Have a whiff of mine and tell us whose is better.”

John hurried to obey her command, and he took a long whiff of her scent. Both of them smelled horrendous, as expected, but he thought Lisa was the slightly more attractive of the two, so he signaled accordingly. Either girl would have made any frat dude’s top 10 on campus list, but John preferred blonds. In fact, part of him wondered if Lisa would let him do this in the future, after they had returned him to his normal size.

Once that thought crossed his mind, John finally had to admit to himself the truth: he was intensely turned on by these girls’ feet. Still, he resolved to hide that fact for as long as possible; they seemed to take pleasure out of tormenting him.

“He picked me. You lose, babe,” Lisa said, giving her friend a playful shove before giving him a similar one with her toe. “Since you like my foot so much, why don’t you give it a little kiss?” John feigned reluctance. “Now, you little bitch!” she barked, drawing a peal of laughter from Chelsea. John quickly complied.

“He’s so pathetic,” said Chelsea between giggles.

Smelling the sweet infused fabric of Lisa’s sock was one thing – but actually tasting the salty fluid oozing out the strands made him want to vomit. That it also gave him a rock solid hard-on thoroughly confused John, but he supposed he didn’t care so long as the two cheerleaders failed to notice.

“What? No tongue?” asked Lisa rhetorically. John extended his tongue gingerly out to the soaking fabric before being assaulted by the horrendous taste of the sweat and grime from this girl’s foot. He threw a glance up to her face and saw her watching him intently, a malicious smile curving her lips. Lisa noticed his look and locked eyes with his. She arched an eyebrow, and John knew immediately to begin licking in earnest. “Yeah, lick that smelly sock right up, you little slut.”

They taunted him further for a few more minutes before Chelsea insisted that it was her turn. “Come close to me, little man,” she instructed. John obeyed – and was rewarded by her entire foot smashing down on top of him. The impact knocked the breath out of him, and he lied there on his back, gasping the acrid air beneath Chelsea’s disgusting foot. As the pressure increased, John wondered in a panic if Chelsea was actually trying to kill him. Just as he started to lose consciousness, the brunette lifted her foot up to inspect her handiwork.

“Oh my God, Chelsea!” cackled Lisa. “He’s drenched in your sweat. Gross!”

“Yeah,” she agreed. “And you better like it, little man! Hope you’re ready for some more.”

For the second time she lowered her foot down on top of him – but this time more gently. On the bottom, the white sock had actually turned a sickly gray, and parts of the fabric had worn down so thin that he could make out the slight pink tint of her sole underneath. Once Chelsea had settled her foot down on him, she began to move it back and forth, rubbing his body with the disgusting wall of female foot. The force of her simple movement left him extremely disoriented, but he still had the gumption to stick his tongue out and enjoy the sweat flowing down his throat. John had given up trying to understand – now he was just along for the ride. He was fleetingly grateful that he had worn compression underwear that day – otherwise Chelsea would have manhandled his boner instead of it being safely tucked by his thigh.

Finally, Chelsea had had her fill. She removed her foot, only for it to be replaced by Lisa’s – only this time the sock was gone. Instantly, the smell invading his nostrils became ten times worse. His body compressed into her soft sole, the sweaty skin wrapping around him like a memory foam bed. “Lick,” commanded Lisa. John eagerly complied, simultaneously savoring yet abhorring the salty fluid he consumed. Nonetheless, he sought out every drop, working his tongue into every disgusting crease and crevice of her sole.

“God his little tongue feels so good on your skin. You try it, Chelsea.”

Lisa removed her foot for Chelsea’s, but instead of placing hers on top of him, the brunette laid it down beside him. “Get to work on my toes,” she commanded. John tried to look unenthusiastic, but his penis felt like it would burst. He knelt down at her long, damp toes and began to lick them methodically. He licked the nail and the sides, underneath and in between; he no longer tried to hide his lust. They probably thought he was just trying his best to be set free later. John wondered if he even wanted that – maybe he’d rather be their tiny foot slave forever.

“I bet our feet smell disgusting,” laughed Lisa.

“Yeah they do,” agreed Chelsea. “I can smell yours from here.”

“That’s perfect – the smellier the better.” She raised her foot up and put it down on top of Chelsea’s. “Now show these stinky toes some love, little man.”

The vinegary odors of both girls hit John like a bus. The stench literally made his head ache, but for some reason this made him want to inhale all the more. He licked both rows of feet endlessly, savoring every drop of their hideous foot sweat. He actually felt disappointment when it came to end.

“Okay little man, that’s enough for now,” announced Lisa, jarring him from his sexual reverie. He felt his penis aching for release. His boner came to its end, however, when the blond cheerleader snatched him and set him on her desk – he was terrified of heights. “Take off all of your clothes – we want you to really enjoy this next part.”

John removed his clothes hastily. His sopping weight shirt fell heavily to the floor, and a small pool of the girls’ foot sweat formed beneath it. The pants and underwear came soon afterwards, leaving him completely vulnerable to the cheerleaders’ hungry eyes.

“Not much going on down there,” mocked Chelsea. “What, two smoking hot cheerleaders doesn’t do the trick?”

“I think he deserves to be punished for that,” announced Lisa. “And I think I know just the thing.” She laid her sneaker on its side beside him. Instantly, he could feel the hot, humid air wrap around him. “Get in there. You’re coming with us while we make a little run to the cafeteria.”

“Oh, wow, Lisa, that’s just cruel… I love it!”

John had just stepped onto the fabric that comprised the side of Lisa’s shoe when the whole world moved. Lisa couldn’t wait for him to get to the front on his own, so he went tumbling down with the aid of her merciless shakes. “Ready or not, here comes my big stinky foot!” she called down to him. John saw her huge toes enter the shoe even as the light dimmed. Thinking fast, he looked down at Lisa’s toe prints on the insole, and hastily positioned himself so that he’d be underneath the arch of her digits. He exhaled hugely as he felt her toes move over head before coming to rest on top of him. They gave him a rough squeeze before the pressure suddenly rocketed upwards – Lisa was standing up.

The ceiling that had been the arch of her toes pushed down on him like a mattress… then like a hundred mattresses. He found himself suffocating under the flesh of her toes until a brief reprieve – and then pressure once more. She was walking.

John tried to his best to breath during her steps, when the pressure wasn’t so great. It reminded him of swimming – how it required you to breathe only when out of water at rhythmic intervals. Unfortunately in this case, his breathing when “out of water” meant that he had to endure both the falling sensation of her falling foot as well as the seemingly endless amount of sweat dripping from her toes. Seriously, how much did this girl actually sweat? Couple that with the intense heat that was only getting worse, John felt like he was in some kind of sick combination of water torture, a sauna, and a garbage compactor. Still, he had never been hornier.

And as luck would have it, his penis was lodged between Lisa’s gigantic toes instead of being smashed beneath them like his face. John wondered if she could even feel his tiny member.

Without warning, the walking came to a stop. The pressure on his body became less predictable as she stood in line, moving at different intervals. Then she started to tap her foot – John pictured her malicious grin. She was probably watching her shoe at that very moment. Right on cue, her sweaty toes curled around him and gave him a rough squeeze, wringing out extra sweat onto his battered and bruised body.

Eventually, Lisa moved to sit at table. She must have crossed her legs, because her weight no longer pressed down on him like a mountain. Instead, he rattled back and forth beneath her toes and against the soaked insole at the whims of her dangling foot. He could hear her and Chelsea speaking some unfathomable distance above him, but their voices only came through as muffled rumblings – like thunder in the clouds.

Then Lisa stamped down on his head, knocking him unconscious.

…

Icy water jolted John from his slumber. White surrounded him on all sides, sloping upwards to a circle… John shuddered involuntarily – and not from the cold.

“Wake up, you little slut.” High above him, through the oval opening of the toilet, he could see both Chelsea and Lisa looking down at him. A scowl twisted Lisa’s beautiful face, while Chelsea looked amused, as if laughing at some inside joke at his expense. “You’re actually turned on by feet, aren’t you? You little freak! You actually enjoyed our feet, didn’t you? Don’t think I couldn’t feel your little boner between my toes.” John stared up fearfully, his heart plummeting. “Well that wasn’t part of the deal – so you’re gonna have to be punished… for real.” John watched with growing horror as she removes her skirt and panties. “Bet you’ve never seen a vagina this close, have you? I hope you’re thirsty!”

Without warning a few droplets of yellow urine slipped from her pink and shaven lips, splashing into the water beside him. John swam as quickly as he could away, and he narrowly avoided being hit by the splash. Up above, he could see Lisa spreading her pussy in preparation for the main event.

Without warning, a massive torrent of urine poured from her vagina. The yellow piss bubbled in the water like some unstable chemical, releasing noxious fumes that caused John to gag. By swimming to the side of the bowl, he managed to avoid being directly hit by the waterfall of pee – but not for long. With deft usage of her fingers, she aimed the tremendous stream directly at John. The weight of her urine knocked the breath from his lungs and pushed him beneath the water. He had no choice but to try to breath, but instead only swallowed Lisa’s disgusting liquid waste.

Suddenly, everything stopped. Struggling mightily, John reached the surface and began sucking in air as deeply as possible, regardless of the hideous smell permeating the toilet bowl.

“Look at him – he’s drowning in my piss!”

“Knowing this freak, he’s probably turned on by this too.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t put it past him. Does this turn you on? Here, have some more.” Lisa released her stream once again on top of poor John. The acidic liquid burned at his eyes and skin. Worse yet, he couldn’t help but swallow some of the nauseating piss. John pushed and kicked with all of his might to get to the surface and breathe, but Lisa’s relentless urine pushed him down further and further. He couldn’t believe that he was struggling to survive against this cheerleader’s bathroom break. Was he going to die like this?

And then it was over. The downpour stopped, and John was able to get back to the surface. He gasped for breath as he tread piss in the now yellow and warm pool. Looking up, he saw Chelsea and Lisa’s faces between her thighs, gazing down at him with evil amusement. “Just one squirt left, little guy. If you look at me and smile when I give it to you, maybe we’ll fish you out. How does that sound?”

John didn’t answer. Instead, he smiled and looked up. One last burst of Lisa’s piss hit him in his smiling face even as the two cheerleaders howled with laughter. “Wow, he actually did it,” said Chelsea.

“I bet it’s because he likes it. He’s such a little freak.”

“All right, let me go,” said Chelsea. Lisa obligingly stood up and took a look at her handiwork.

“It looks like he’s in a bubble bath – of my piss!” She blew him a kiss and said, “Hope you enjoyed that, little man.”

As Chelsea slid her buttcheeks onto the seat, John roared in protest. “No! You said you would let me go! Please – no more!”

“Don’t be an idiot, John,” replied Lisa. “I said maybe we’ll fish you out. Besides, you’re being unfair to Chelsea – don’t you think she deserves a turn?”

John screamed in impotent rage. Why the hell were they doing this to him? How could someone so beautiful be so cruel?

His screams were cut short by yet more piss – this time Chelsea’s. He once again found himself struggling for his life in the turbulent flow of a woman’s liquid excrement. Thankfully, Chelsea’s urine torture didn’t last as long as Lisa’s. Once she finished, John emerged, sputtering, at the surface.

“I saved a little extra for you too, little guy. Why don’t you open wide and for me like a good boy?”

“You promise you’ll let me go?” shouted John.

“Yeah… I guess that’s fair,” she replied. John opened his mouth. “Tilt your head back,” Chelsea commanded. John complied. “I hope it tastes good!” Then a rush of Chelsea’s piss poured down his open throat. He immediately choked and gagged from the bitter taste of her warm cocktail. His head swam from vile sensations assaulting his nervous system.

“Ok, I did what you asked,” shouted John. “Now will you please let me go?”

“Hmm…” Chelsea put on a thoughtful expression. “No. Eat my shit, little man.”

John screamed and screamed – a primal mixture of fear, anger, and frustration. He watched in growing horror as Chelsea’s anus relaxed and enlarged, releasing its filthy contents into the world. The stink of her feces invaded his nostrils even as he tried his hardest to swim to the side of the bowl to avoid the impact of her massive turd.

“You were always just a little shit,” laughed Lisa. John could see both of them smiling through the gap between Chelsea’s legs. Then the emerging log accelerated downward, sliding out of her anus like some kind of abominable snake. It smashed into the surface of both girls’ piss, but since John had moved to the side of the toilet, he managed to avoid getting crushed.

But even that small solace was short-lived. Like some hellish whirlpool, John found himself forced back into the center by piss rushing back into the vacuum created by the giant shit’s arrival. He reached the center just in time to have Chelsea’s smaller bowel movements crash onto him. Despite the soft texture of her excrement, the sheer weight of it – not to mention the horrifying odor – threatened to knock John unconscious. He managed to slip through a coil of shit to the surface only to have more of it dumped onto him in a fecal nightmare. Fearing another such battering, John endeavored to swim downwards and away from the landing zone. He emerged once again the edge of the bowl, his face and hair smeared with Chelsea’s brown gunk.

He looked up to see Chelsea wiping herself with toilet paper before she dropped it onto her woman-made island of shit. Then she stood up and turned to look at the disaster below. “Where is he?” she asked Lisa, her eyes scanning the sea of waste.

“Right there, kind of towards the right,” pointed Lisa, covering her smile with her other hand. “He’s covered in your shit so it’s hard to see him.”

Chelsea squinted before her eyes widened in recognition. Peals of laughter shook her body as she took sadistic pleasure at John’s misery. “That was a lot of fun, little man. I guess we’ll let you go.”

John had a split second to get his hopes up as she reached forward with her hand. But the angle was wrong, it was going…

“No!” he howled. “Please no!”

“See ya around, ya little shit,” said Lisa, giving him the finger. Chelsea blew him a kiss before pulling down on the flusher.