- Text Size +
Story Notes:

This is directly inspired by Black Jack's story “Mom and the Loving Visit”. This has the same basic bones as his story, but I have added detail and a bit more motivation, So, this is essentially “Mom and the Loving Visit” Cruelty and Psychosis Edition.

 

Black Jack's original story (available via a search on Giantesscity) ends quite short and unfinished. Mine continues way too long and overstays it's welcome.

I have revised it immensely and I've added the insertion tag.

My original story has been removed, supplanted by the Special Edition version which is much more impactful. Unfortunately doing this deleted all my reviews, rest assured, there were good reviews... by very few people. I am grateful nonetheless!

I warn potential readers: This is intentionally VERY detailed, to the point of perhaps monotony for some. The stories in this series are intentionally done this way as study for my own offline and serious projects and as a lasting mark that I was here at all in the size-fetish community once I am long gone.

 

I was inspired by the above story and Goddess Grazi's amazing sexiness. We've all got individualized tastes, yes? I've got to write about what interests me. Please do the same! I hope some of you will enjoy it.

Author's Chapter Notes:

 

I know that there is no way that the read counter could be accurate. Still, it makes me feel some amount of prideful accomplishment that I have at least one view per word of this story, so sayeth the counter of truth. I have went through and tweaked this story a bit, and I tried to change my paragraph formatting.

The special effects, especially the CGI has been enhanced in this special edition. Instead of Linda being a four hundred ten foot tall rubber covered, nuclear powered automaton, we have reshot those scenes using a charming blonde amateur actress. Green screen was utilized and I believe that the actress, really an executive secretary for a shall-not-be-named Wisconsin sausage company, did an excellent job with her lines and putting up with Hans and Gertrude, our pedicurist and manicurist throughout production.

I would love to see artwork portraying any scene or scenes from this story. I suppose I shall have to be content that I wrote it at all. Still, it would be a cool and pleasant surprise. I would love to put a readable version in front of SmushedBoy and see his reaction. Maybe someday I'll commission JamesMason0 or Flagg or someone. Or do it myself, I am not helpless, just touched in the head.

 

 

I may continue to tweak this 4 part Special Edition if anything else seems nice to add. Thank you for your readership!



Tiny Dancer

 

Coffee Table Hardbound Signed Free-Range Limited Edition

(with sprinkles)

 

Linda Johnson was so bored. It had only been two weeks since she had been bought out at the law firm. She knew that she should be getting on an airplane to visit some far off and exotic locale. She knew she should be celebrating the enormous windfall of money she had recently come into. She should at least be planning her next triumph, the next stage of her life. Linda should be doing all of these things, and more. She was finally single, six months out from the divorce. She should be dating. She should be shopping herself around. But, were any of these choices laid out before her what she truly wanted? So many possibilities, so much potential and so much time with which to carefully craft every decision and action.



 



Linda idly checked her favorite websites again. Perhaps someone had updated one of those embarrassingly straight-to-the-point erotic stories about tiny people being taken advantage of and worse, at the hands, feet, bodies and domineering minds of their normal sized or even gigantic, impossibly sized captors. Linda sighed, there were no recent additions and no completely new stories anywhere.



 



After lunch, Linda retrieved from her bedroom the sketchbook she had accidentally found in her son's things that were stored in the attic. She went into Mike's old bedroom and sat down on his single mattress bed, tucking her legs underneath of her on top of the quaint, old Steelers bed spread. Linda slowly went through the drawings, looking each one over for what seemed like the hundredth time. She took her time looking at each one, assessing it. As always, she had to admit that her son was talented. He had captured his subjects perfectly. Linda knew this because her son's drawings were of her, in a way.



 



Linda did not know how many of these sketchbooks her son had gone through while a teenager. But he had certainly practiced sketching her from memory until he could reproduce what he wanted to from any angle, and in any position perfectly. Linda always wondered why, when he was young, she would catch him looking at her like that. It was so obvious now. Unable to withhold the temptation any longer Linda turned to the last pages. These drawings were special. They were near and dear to her heart, or at least to her psyche. Linda took in each one slowly, thinking about not only what was on the page, but the imagined situation, the imagined dialogue in her son's mind as he had drawn them.



 



The rest of the pictures in the sketchbook were surprising enough: studies of Linda's hands and feet, and the occasional study of her mouth. There was not a single drawing of her entire face. Perhaps her son knew better than to blatantly identify whom his subject truly was. But it was obvious to Linda, perhaps obvious to anyone who had any artistic preoccupation. You only had to look. You only had to compare. But, these last drawings. Her son had drawn someone else as well here in these last few pages. The naked male was very small, perhaps three or four inches in height in most of the drawings, though in some the poor little man was smaller. Linda knew immediately the first time she had laid eyes upon this tiny person who it was. You only had to look and compare. Such demeaning positions. She often wondered if any of those online guilty pleasures she allowed herself to read and view might be also enjoyed by her son as well. They had to be. Had she done this to him? Had Linda's particular sexual "fascination" colored her interactions with him somehow? Had she been too dominant when he was a boy? Too cruel? Was this entirely random? After all, she had adopted her son. But what were the chances of that?



 



Her smartphone came alive, chirping at her. Linda picked it up and noticed immediately that it was a text from an old friend, someone she had fond memories of when they were in the same sorority so long ago.



 



SharonLove: why didn't you tell me, Linda?



 



Linda responded, "tell you about what?"



 



SharonLove: just got back from a birthday party. Went to Chase's Buck-Line. That male stripper club in town. Did you think you could keep this a secret?



 



"Keep what a secret?"



 



SharonLove: your son! I know it was him! He was dancing there! Don't deny it!



 



Linda finished off the Pinot Grigio that had been languishing in the door of her refrigerator. She had opened another bottle and now was rather drunk. She managed to smooth it over with her old friend Sharon, stoically denying that it could be her son, Mike, that her old friend had seen. Linda wasn't sure that her friend had believed her. The last thing Linda needed was such a crippling embarrassment in front of her tight circle of friends. This was supposed to be her time. She was supposed to be freeing herself of needless obligations to make way for a glorious re-sculpting and rebirth of her life. This was obviously shameful and an entanglement. It would be laid directly at her feet. After all, she was his mother and must apparently approve of such poor decisions.



 



As Linda sat on the couch she watched the smart phone footage Sharon shot and gave her for the tenth time at least. She tipped back the bottle as she watched. It was Mike. There was no doubt. Linda paused the video and put her phone down on the coffee table. She sighed deeply in frustration. Ever since he had gone to college, her son Mike had been neglectful of her. He had to know how difficult divorce had been on her. He had to know she was lonely. He could be so stupid sometimes. At times like these, Linda wished she could force him to listen to her. That was even a stretch and a fantasy, she thought to herself, he was beyond that. She wished she could…



 



Linda glanced down at her phone. Her son's naked body was frozen in the paused footage, arms stretched high over his head in a confident, swaggering dance. Her phone lay on top of his opened secret sketchbook, on top of the realistically shaded drawings of that very same same body pinned and pleading for mercy beneath his mother's ridiculously sized bare foot. Linda picked up the phone for a moment. She giggled to herself, Mike was just too big. She re-sized the paused frame of video. She played with the resizing thoughtfully. If she could… This would be his fate, this would be his ultimate size. If she could? Linda knew she could, she simply had to retrieve a single small key from her closet safe and then undertake a fifteen minute drive… and she would. This would be the first piece of her new life, her next and newest triumph. Linda smiled confidently and placed the phone back down next to her favorite drawing. She stared at the much smaller image of Mike and took another sip. It was as if it he was trapped beneath the glass of her phone's screen, arms overhead, beating his fists in frustration. It wasn't far from the truth, in a way. Because Sharon had been there, had recognized him, had shot this very same video, Mike was now trapped.



 



Linda giggled and brought a foot down over her phone.



 



"You've been a very bad boy recently, haven't you?" She slurred as she blotted out her son's body with a big toe. Her touch unpaused the video and Mike sprang to life again, shamelessly dancing underneath his mother's punishing toe.



 



"This is my time, you little shit! You're not going to ruin my friendships or my reputation with your shenanigans! I think it's time you were put in your place. We both know where that is, don't we, Mikey?"



 



The next day, despite the hangover, Linda drove to her bank and removed her grandfather's proudest scientific accomplishment from the safety deposit box. Perhaps her grandfather was right, perhaps the world was not ready for it. But Mike was definitely ready for it. Besides, Linda ached to see it for herself again. She had been a little girl the last time she had played with the results of her grandfather's research. Now she was responsible, for Mike, for his unfortunate actions, and for her grandfather's legacy.



 



Mike had been working at the club for over three months now. His roommate had turned him on to the place and after realizing how much money his roomie pulled in working only part-time, Mike couldn't resist. You would think dancing at a strip club would be sleazy, but the owners were, strangely, former professors at Mike's college. Mike did not know the details of how and why they decided to open up the club. But in the small college town this place was well scrutinized and begrudgingly approved of. It was its image, exclusively a women's club and the owners kept it clean and free of the sketchier aspects which permeated most of such places. Perhaps it was also the liberal view of the younger, well educated populace of the town which allowed it's existence to continue. Mike did not know, nor did he care. He had been an athlete in high school, but also was in most every school play and musical. His penchant and talent for performing in front of an audience totally unfazed allowed him to easily take on the role of a male dancer. The clientele was usually about half young, college aged women, and there was no impediment to his studies by taking on such a job. He had fun and only at part-time, three nights a week, he made more money than he had ever seen.



 



There was that strange day, it was last Wednesday. After Mike had showered, and as he was getting ready to go in to work he got a text from his mother.



 



"Hi, honey! When are you coming over to see me? How about this, how about I come to see you?"



 



Mike replied, "can't. Busy for the rest of the week. Can I come over this weekend? I can probably make time then."



 



Her reply was immediate, "that's too bad. I am in town now. Came to do shopping today. I guess I will spend some more time here before going home. This weekend would be good for me! XOX mom."



 



Mike didn't think anything else of the exchange and finished drying his hair, he needed to get going to the club.



 



Halfway through the night Mike noticed the strange woman. She had seated herself in the back of the crowd. Large dark sunglasses hid her eyes. A scarf was tied over her hair, and she wore a vintage mid-calf raincoat. She looked like she had stepped out of a 1950s movie.



 



Mike didn't have much time to study the woman, but there was just something about her that seemed so familiar. Was it his mother? Her hair looked to be the wrong color. It could be her face, but Mike could not tell. He was sure his mother did not own clothes like that. However, after he left the stage he lingered behind the curtain to one side and peered out with a good view. Mike didn't need his mother's face to identify her. She had other characteristics that Mike knew all too well.



 



Mike watched the woman from the safety of the shadows. He noticed that now she did not seem to be paying much attention to his coworkers on the stage. He watched as she stirred her drink with the straw. Long nails adorned her hands, but Mike could not be sure, he did not get a good enough look. Mike went to the other side of the stage but the view here was totally obscured. Frustrated, Mike went back into the maze of hallways and dressing rooms that connected to the stage. No one was in the security office, it was Wednesday, so the security guy was probably out in the bar.



 



Mike sat down in front of the security monitors and brought up one of the new cameras that had been installed in the ceiling where the strangely dressed woman sat. It took a minute or two, but Mike figured out quickly how to connect the camera to the single joystick sticking out of the console. He panned over to where the woman sat and began to zoom in.



 



Filling the monitor in front of him were a pair of beautiful, almost unique feet clad in fancy, stylish sandals. Tall arches and smooth, well kept, tanned skin. It could be her, but they were definite ways to be sure. With a few more nudges on the joystick Mike centered the woman's toes of one foot in the monitor. The big toe was long and nicely shaped. The nail bed wide and very deep. The nail of the toe was noticeably convex longitudinally, a pleasing but pronounced curvature to it. The toenail itself was grown long, and it hung out over the tip of the toe a tasteful, manageable length. The rest of the toes were beautifully shaped as well. The nails were shorter than the ones on the big toes, the nail beds were not quite as deep. Still, they were very pleasing, wonderfully shaped and very beautiful. Both feet looked alike, feet that due to the long toenails adorning the big toes were never placed within high heels. These were feet that were meant to be seen as much as walked upon. The kind of feet that Mike adored. Feet that Mike clandestinely looked for in the warm sandal-wearing months attached to the young women around him while he walked to his classes on campus. But these feet in front of him on the monitor, Mike knew them very, very well. Each curve, each swell, all those subtle but telling shapes combined to form a unique identity. These were unmistakably Mike's mother's feet.



 



Mike spent a little bit more time confirming that it was his mother. He had to. There was always the outside chance that someone else might have feet like that. He next checked her hands and found them to be exact matches to his parent. He was a secret and obsessed expert on those particularly elegant and well kept identifiers as well. What was there to say about her hands? They were beautiful like the rest of her, hands good enough to be in commercials or modeling jewelry. Mike had observed over the course of his relatively few years on this planet that there wasn't much correlation seen in the women around him between hands and feet. On more than one occasion Mike had been enchanted by shapely and well kept hands, only to discover later that the female in question did not exhibit the same trends of shape and beauty with her feet. Mike did not know what to make of that, other than to think that he was an arrogant snob pertaining to an invisible, perhaps nonexistent aesthetic that most people would find downright strange, if not insane.

 

 



Midway through Mike's next dance the woman abruptly got up and left. Mike decided that it was time to make the long drive out this weekend and visit his mother. The rest of his week was spent contemplating what this meant. Had she been stalking him? Clearly she had been wearing a brunette wig and trying her utmost to conceal her identity. How had she found out where he was? Ultimately, what would his mother think of his lucrative part-time job? The rest of Mike's week seemed awkward and slow to him. He just wished it would be over. At night, before he would go to bed, Mike would look through the family photos he had on his computer. He studied the pictures of his mother, at first to make sure his suspicion was correct. But, ultimately the pictures of her were too tempting, and Mike gave in to his old teenage habits.

 

 



Friday afternoon Mike filled the tank of his car and made his way out to the highway. As he drove he considered what he might have to answer for if his mother broached the subject of her presence at the club Wednesday evening. The whole event seemed unreal. Mike admitted that if handled wrong, with poor word choices, it could end up a train wreck.



 



 



 



As I sat in my mother's living room, I noticed that sometimes she would pause in speaking with me and glance down at her feet as she would slowly flex them. Her perfect red toenails glistened, and countless tiny pillows of creamy flesh would form on her soles as she would twist and scrunch her gorgeous feet. For some reason her behavior made me very uncomfortable. It thrilled me that she was not wearing socks and shoes. My mother had the most beautiful feet and hands I had ever seen, only equaled by perhaps two or three other women I ever had the pleasure of witnessing. All of these women, my mother included (for obvious reasons), were impossibly unobtainable. I could at least sate my neurosis by stealing glances at my mother's wonderful body parts. I was so lucky that at least one of these women was a constant presence in my life. I could never get enough of her elegant hands and especially feet and my mother never disappointed, always keeping all her nails well kept. But today, it was as if she was daring me to look. I did not understand why she was acting like this. I decided that it was too tempting, the last thing I needed was for my mother to find out about my strange fetish. I deliberately kept my eyes above her breasts, not allowing them to roam at all.



 



"Well, Mike," said as she sat down in a nice formal chair across from me. "I'm glad you found it in yourself to make the trip out to see me. I hope you didn't have to kill any bears on your way here, or swim across any rivers by yourself." She smiled.



 



I was relieved she pressed the subject no further and just settled on a simple joking quip about how far out in the country she lived. I had not been to see her in a very long time and I had actually been ignoring her phone calls and messages. I had studies, a girlfriend. My mother's home was a long drive from where I now lived.



 



"Well," I said. I felt bad about not visiting her. I was only a junior in college, and I had plenty of time on the weekends. "I have classes. Lots of homework. But I'm doing well, all caught up right now. Your text Wednesday go me thinking that it was about time I come out to see you."



 



My mom crossed her legs in the chair and bounced a foot in the air. Her shorts pulled up tightly. She put her hands in her lap and smiled.



 



"So, do you have a girlfriend?'' She smiled again, it was creepy. My mother was unreadable to me, completely opaque, I knew something was going on.



 



"Well, sorta. Why?'' I asked.



 



My mom bent forward and reached out, picking up what looked to be a large, antique bottle of perfume on her coffee table. She hefted it and lightly smelled the cap.



 



"Because I don't want her to feel bad if she doesn't see you."



 



She smiled at me in a strange manner, confident, playful, yet almost sexy and dirty.



 



"I don't understand."



 



My mother ignored me for a moment, tapping her well manicured long fingernails on the perfume's cap and crystal bottle. Shivers ran down my spine and I wanted to turn away. She pulled off the perfume's cap and leaning forward again, gracefully placed it on the coffee table. As she spoke she leaned back into her chair and smelled the top of the perfume around the atomizer, she seemed to be relishing it.



 



"Well, you know, out here in the middle of nowhere anything could happen. You could get a flat tire. Run out of gas. You could even be abducted, Mike. Vanish off the face of the earth without a trace."



 



"What? What are you talking about? Are you feeling okay?"



 



She was smiling broadly, yet again thoroughly unreadable to me. There was a strange gleam in her eyes.



 



My mother got done smelling the top of the perfume bottle and seemed to want the cap she had placed upon the coffee table. Instead of leaning forward to pick it up she unfolded her long shapely leg and extended it towards the coffee table. I was transfixed as her foot reached out to the silver perfume bottle's cap. Her long, gorgeous toes fanned out and as she picked it up between them I saw her smirk for just a second, barely perceptible amusement in her eyes. Did she know I was watching with well-hidden, giddy awe? She laid her foot on top of her other thigh and slightly squeezed the silver cap between her toes. I could barely contain myself and I felt my cheeks grow hot as I blushed. She had to be doing this on purpose.



 



"Oh, of course I'm okay, Mike. I just worry about you! Going to college in the big bad city!"



 



She ran a beautiful index finger over the perfume cap held between her toes idly.



 



"Huh? I don't understand. Mom, honestly I'm practically a grown man now! What is all this about a big bad city? It's beautiful and clean there, and my apartment is pretty nice too."



 



She was stroking her thumb tip over her long, wide toenail of her clenched big toe. I almost couldn't stand it, and I felt the first stirrings of a boner coming on.



 



"You are more vulnerable than you know, Mike. Mommy can't protect you there."



 



I was exasperated, I had no idea what she was going on about. I could not pay attention to everything that was in the air at once, it seemed. I didn't understand why she seemed like she was putting on a foot show for me. I didn't understand why she kept looking at me in such an inappropriate manner. Now, I didn't understand her strange paranoia.



 



"You're talking like I was still a child! Like I was a little boy! But I'm not! Just look at me!"



 



She grinned in a way that chilled me to my core. Her eyes were dangerous, mischievous.



 



"Oh, I am looking at you, honey, and all I can see is a little boy. A soft, vulnerable little boy."



 



"Soft?" I shook my head incredulously, "mom, I work out all the time, I am not-"



 



"Oh, I know! Put your shirt back down, you don't need to show me your six pack!"



 



"I am not soft, here, feel this-"



 



She waved me away disgustedly.



 



"Oh, I know you've been working on your muscles, Mike. You're always doing that!"



 



My mouth hung open, what was her game? Was she making fun of me? As she spoke again she was peering down at her toe while she stroked it slowly and gently with her finger, "those muscles of yours might impress those college girls. They might think your manly, maybe even rugged. But, I'm your mother, they don't know you the way I know you. You have a nice, strong physique, Mike, but I'll bet you would feel velvety soft to me, wouldn't you?"



 



My mother brought her face down low over the top of her clenched toes, she was studying the underside of her big toe. With a slow gentleness she caressed the full toe pad with the tip of her nail. She glanced up at me for a second and then whispered as she intently caressed it, "such a hard little naked body. I bet you would feel wonderfully delicate… just right here… mmm... right... underneath of... me.”



 



She raised her face to me, a confident and treacherous smirk upon it.



 



"What the fuck are you talking about? I don't even-"



 



 



Suddenly, she raised the bottle and sprayed me in the face with the fruity perfume. I grabbed my burning eyes, trying to rub them and gagging at the same time. I staggered towards her, blinded and coughing. I felt light-headed, and felt darkness pass over my eyes.



 



When my eyes opened, I discovered that I was laying in a massive heap of denim and cotton. I felt as if I was a gladiator in a mighty coliseum constructed out of my own clothes! I seemed no more than an inch tall, perhaps less, I could not tell. The rough denim was solid enough under my feet. The monstrous jumble of my clothing radiated heat, my own residual body heat into my tiny form. I looked further up, and discovered that the couch was now a mountain to me. Just then, I heard a massive creaking sound, like someone changing their weight while sitting in a wooden chair!



 



A shadow covered up a portion of the uneven, jumbled floor on the far side of the area I found myself trapped in. There was a silvery flash of something plummeting downwards and an impact on the denim I stood upon, violently deforming the thick cloth surface and knocking me down. The large object rolled, tumbling before coming to a stop in the center of my clothes. It was the perfume bottle's cap! The silvery cylinder was the size of an elevator carriage. The pungent, overwhelming fruity scent gagged me again. I heard several more loud creaking noises from the direction I had briefly seen the shadow. I ran away from the sounds, trying to gain the slope of my jean's enormous zipper to see over the far wall of cloth.



 



It took only milliseconds for my mind to interpret the strangely distorted vista rising upwards in the distance like some vast natural feature made of weathered stone. But this was no tree-studded, fissured tower composed of tortured granite, rather something formed of golden, tanned flesh. It was my mother, sitting in almost the same position, and in the very same chair as a moment ago. Though I had considered the possibility, I cried out in shock at the sight of her. My mind encountered great difficulty coming to terms with her scale. She was so very far away from me and yet, just right there, enormous and apparently real.



 



As I watched the colossal blonde woman unfolded her other leg out from beneath her. The vibrations caused by her incalculably gigantic body's casual movement raced outwards and passed beneath me, tickling the soles of my feet even through the giant denim folds I stood upon. While she was adjusting in the chair her blue eyes flitted about, searching, picking apart the details of the untidy pile of my clothing. She quickly spotted me and that familiar sexy, dirty, unsavory smile from earlier crossed her distant face again. I violently vomited, my nice lunch splattered over the enormous weave of the denim beneath me. More protesting wooden creaking noises split the air as she stood up from the chair. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end as I fought to take in her entire towering form with my eyes.



 



My stomach became a hard knot as my mother took an enormous, graceful step towards me. The ground vibrated as her bare foot impacted the living room's carpet. She had just covered half the distance to me! Another casual step and stronger vibratory feedback through the floor beneath me which I felt through my feet and up into my calves. I couldn't believe something so huge could move so quickly, and yet she had only taken two leisurely steps towards me.



 



My mother's first step caused her to soar upwards even more overhead, during the second step her pert, fit body wildly distorted from my sheer tininess. I felt like I had been punched as I suddenly grasped an insane piece of logic: my pile of clothes only came up to the bottom of her lovely ankles.



 



My mother, Linda, stopped moving and put her hands on her hips. She was looking down into my pile of clothing at her feet. From my vantage point my formerly average height mother was mostly composed of impossibly huge, perspectively distorted legs. Smooth, monstrous ankles towered over the crumpled ring of my clothes. Enormous shapely calves expanded upwards into the sky. Her tremendous thighs were foreshortened so drastically that I almost could not see them. They terminated into distant hips covered with tight white shorts on which her elegant hands rested upon. I could barely see her face beyond her enormous breasts. The look on her face was a haughty, gloatingly satisfied one.



 



One of her enormous legs moved slightly and she must have nudged the outside of my pile of clothes with a foot, the tall crumpled wall of clothing closest to her distorted and tumbled down. I cried out and fell to my knees. The same tanned leg began to slowly raise upwards and this sight spurred adrenaline to be dumped into my tiny form. There was a flash of red at the top of the ragged wall from where she had rearranged my clothes. My mother's toes rose from beyond my prison, wiggling and flexing. My hair stood on end and I began to tremble. Despite my captor's vast scale which play tricks with my eyes, I knew those perfect digits were each more than large enough to trap me beneath them. They were more than adequate to effortlessly, gracefully smash me into paste. The beautiful big toe slowly ran over the ridge, feeling it, as if savoring my empty clothes.



 



The monstrous tanned foot crept slowly over the top of the distant cloth hills. It continued to slide forward, accompanied with a constant and loud swishing noise, the sound of soft huge toes gliding over fabric. I rocked backwards on my knees, holding both of my hands over my open mouth as tiny strangled noises issued forth, screams aborted from sheer shock. The mighty big toe and its smaller sisters explored the far side of my cloth coliseum, shifting in their spacing as they felt the terrain of my discarded clothes. I felt my own urine trickle against the inside of my leg as my mother's foot, the size of a yacht encountered the discarded silver cap of the perfume bottle.



 



As if seeking meaning to her actions I looked up to my beautiful mother, far, far above me. A haughty smirk was frozen on her face as she took her eyes off of the silver cap to glance at me where I crouched. Her frightening big toe traced over it slowly and then the long crimson toenail bulldozed underneath the cap. She smiled and with the smallest of motions the silver cylinder was sent rolling haphazardly across my enormous underwear at me! I scrambled out of the way, stumbling and falling as the cylinder rolled towards me. In a moment it had stopped, not very far from where I had stood. The disgusting scent choked me and I got to my feet as I raised my arm and clamped my mouth and nose into the crook of my own elbow. Beyond the huge silver cylinder the impossible, monstrous foot slid closer.



 



Above me my enormous mother was smiling, slowly propelling her foot towards her toys. I crouched low and ran back away from the silver cylinder. There was an overhang of denim, like a great, frozen ocean wave of fabric. I dropped to my stomach and rolled sideways, like a lizard seeking shelter beneath a flat rock, wedging myself underneath the fabric overhang. As I peered out from beneath the overhang the wall of shapely toes came on, growing so enormous that I could no longer see her toenails. The digits became rounded structures, each covered with a maze of ridges, the enormous beautiful toes fanned out. She engulfed the little cap and gripping it in her stout toes carried it upwards, out of my cloth prison. I was shaking uncontrollably but I could not look away, creeping forward past the rough denim curl to follow the metal cylinder into the sky.



 



My mother raised her foot upwards and retrieved the cap with a pretty hand. This was almost like watching a construction crane affixed to a partially built skyscraper, but the heavy equipment was made of feminine flesh, curves and soft womanly musculature. As I watched she placed it on the impossibly large coffee table. The blonde giantess smiled mischievously down at me and the foot was back, sailing through the air as the beautiful toes wiggled. I pushed back into the rough crevice, but the view outside caused my hair to stand on end. The shapely big toe had dipped downward and it skimmed across the crazy terrain towards me.



 



Just outside my hiding spot all five toes dropped and spread, gripping my jagged landscape of clothing in a scrunch. Everything shifted around me as the layers of cloth were pulled and deformed by the tremendous toe's grip. The front of my mother's enormous foot surrendered my clothing as it retreated upwards, leaving a new and ragged sculpture of fabric in it's wake.



 



The huge big toe was gone for only a moment before it thumped down once again to the lake of crumpled cloth. The impressive bulk of it meandered as it pressed downwards and stroked the chaotic scenery. The beautiful digit dabbed and swept lazily out in front of my tiny crevice. I was trembling badly. I truly felt like I was hiding from some sort of horrific predator, something prehistoric, something the size of a bulldozer. The shapely toe pointed downwards, depressing the floor of the crumpled, quarry-like arena of denim. It suddenly swept forward, the long red toenail which jutted out slightly from her well-kept flesh filled my vision. Then, everything beyond my hiding place was the glossy red surface of the enormous toenail.



 



"Where did the little bug go? Is it trying to hide in that little crack? You've got a lot to learn, bug. You can't hide from me like that."



 



There was an impact and the swell of cloth over me rolled downwards, bunching into a wadded clot and propelling backwards, towards me. The crevice I lay hidden in deformed as I screamed in a terrible panic. The denim pressed down into me, trapping me. Then, I heard the enormous cotton fibers compress and something hard and smooth invaded my tiny hiding spot. It was the tip of my mother's big toe, the long toenail's thick, cold edge drove into me and pressed me into the firm denim. I was screeching, choked from my panic. I could not escape the bruising touch of the colossal nail's lacquered edge.

 

 

 

My mother's big toe retreated for a moment, back out into the light. I could only see a bulging wall of flesh beyond my hiding spot, covered in the swirled maze of toe print. This rounded wall had closed off the light and my escape.

 

 

 

"Where's that tiny little thing?"

 

 

 

The denim groaned in defeat against the end of her toe as it came on, colliding with me. I involuntarily squealed as the air was pushed from my tiny lungs. "What's that I feel? Right there?" I was crushed against the crumple of gigantic denim weave by the tacky, hot flesh. There was a swishing, rasping sound as the huge toe arched upwards, taking the roof of my hiding spot with it.

 

 

 

Suddenly I was in the light again. The long toenail had levered up and back my brief cloth-tomb, deforming and curling it upwards, exposing me entirely. Above me was my mother's mighty, arched big toe. I was utterly dwarfed by it and I had to look away quickly for the sake of my own mind. I shrieked and scrambled on all fours out from beneath the deadly feminine digit with an adrenaline-fueled haste. Laughter erupted from the sky as the toe lowered, utterly crushing my pathetic hiding spot. I turned in time to watch her finish her mirth as the endless leg retracted the gorgeous foot beyond the wall of my clothes.



 



My mother bent down, her hands on her knees, and her blonde hair, head and chest grew much larger as they filled the sky overhead. She grinned down at me. I suddenly realized I was totally naked and to top it off, was rock-hard!



 



I felt an overwhelming sense of feminine dominance, combined with maternal warmth. It was a palpable panic which fueled my arousal, something I could never explain to someone not affected by my particular sexual madness. She spoke, her voice was deep and loud. A moment later the breath from my skyscraper sized mother filled my cloth valley. My naked skin was warmed by the hot, exhaled air which was tinged with the scent of her mouth, of her body.



 



“I hope that didn't hurt too much.”



 



I looked up at her massive size. I knew I was close to passing out from shock. I was ferociously aroused, yet trembling in absolute terror. My nervous system was close to mercifully shutting down. I yelled up at her in a weak voice, hoping she could hear me.



 



“What did you do to me!!? Please help me!”



 



My mother, one of the most warm and friendly women I had ever known, simply smiled, a suppressed laugh shook her impossibly large breasts. Suddenly, the vast tower of her form began to move all at once with a fluid grace. My mother bent at the knees as she lowered into a squat on the balls of her feet. A warm wind cast off my mother's moving body filled my strange prison and her subtle scent was suddenly everywhere. Her endless shins thrust outward, sweeping quickly over my little crater of discarded clothes.

 

 

 

I clutched my hands to the sides of my head and went to my knees. My mother's distant face was grinning as she gazed down upon me, her beautiful body distorting outlandishly as she descended. Her enormous crotch grew huge as it lowered overhead. The fabric of her tight shorts creaked ominously as it fought to contain the hill-like camel toe of her hidden sex. Her endless shins finally hung motionless in the air above me, like menacing and alien battleships floating above a town. I was already trapped and helpless within the confining walls of my crumpled clothing, but now I was assaulted by the sudden feeling of being utterly dominated. I felt as if I had just been claimed completely by my mother with her simple action of squatting down above me.

 

 

 

It was a wonder that I did not faint as all of those mundane, distant features which composed this all-too-familiar being cruelly overwhelmed my senses. But, I had no time to take in this alarming sight. A vast, beautiful hand gracefully detached itself from the top of one of her knees where it had been resting like some tired lioness and it lowered into my ring of clothes. I was screaming harshly at the sheer size of her beautifully manicured fingertips as they sought my tiny body. A gentle wind preceded this small piece of her, air displaced by the enormity of my mother's descending hand. The closer her colossal fingers drew to me the louder and more shrill my screams became.

 

 

 

I instinctively covered my crotch with my hands and I instantly knew that she had caught the motion, that she understood what I had just done. An easy, thunderous laugh shivered the air around me and she smiled. Her huge index finger approached me and I tried to run. I could not escape her digit, I was too tiny and moved too slowly across the rough, crumpled fabric landscape. She only had to make the smallest of adjustments to keep her finger on target. My mother was grinning in anticipation as her digit lazily chased me. I was herded into a tall roll of cloth that I couldn't surmount. I was trapped. The long, red fingernail was almost as tall as I was and swiftly blocked any escape. The enormous tip of her digit almost did not look real.

 

 

 

The fingertip smoothly and gently nudged me with a cold, hard nail and I was roughly knocked into the pants fabric on my back. The wind had almost been knocked from me and I wondered if with her merest touch she had just bruised my chest. She slightly withdrew her hand and gazed down at me again with a growing delight.



 



I pulled my arms and legs in to me protectively in a fetal position and lay there wailing. She lowered her face a bit towards me overhead and her mouth opened in astonishment. My tiny vocalizations must have reached her ears for a vast, unabashed smile was slowly coming to her beautiful face. Her hand was back and it smoothly cut through the air, lowering over me. She gracefully wiggled her fingers and I began to shriek in absolute panic. A deafening, strangely low-pitched giggle split the air above me. Her hand slowed and her index finger unfolded and came down. Beyond her index finger I could see her face, her tongue lightly touched her top front teeth hungrily as her eyes twinkled. My terror was an irresistible attraction to her, and as I watched as she drank it in.



 



She bit her full bottom lip gently right before her fingertip covered me in it's shadow. The tip of her finger dipped so that it hovered vertically directly above me. I was reminded of some nightmarish piece of heavy construction equipment as the thick, wide tip of the fingernail touched my arm. The frightening blonde goddess who looked just like my mother grinned widely as her fingernail interposed itself upon me roughly. Her nail-tip gently pried open my toothpick-like arms and legs, breaking the tight ball I had curled into. I had no chance at all against her casual touch, no opportunity to protect myself against the smallest of her movements. I was screaming as the fingernail gently collided with me, nudging my tiny body and roughly rolling me across my warm clothing. She paused, her immense digit hovered directly overhead. She was smiling down at me and I heard a delighted giggle.

 

 

 

"Don't worry, Mikey. Mommy won't squish you. I just want… to touch you." My mother flashed a wide grin and she winked at me.



 



With one graceful, gentle motion I was buried beneath the fleshy pad of her fingertip. My entire front side was pressed against the hot, ridged and unyielding flesh. My tiny head ended up underneath her fingernail and my face was smashed into the tiny juncture where her flesh was overshot by the horn-like underside of her sport-length fingernail.

 

 

 

"Mmm. That's nice."

 

 

 

The immense being continued to smash me into the stiff gigantic denim floor, my tiny, ineffectual limbs were entirely immobilized. My senses were overloaded and my bones popped loudly in my ears as the air was pushed forcibly from my lungs. I knew this was the end as the vast, ridged flesh settled downwards further. I made a choking, rasping sound as my vulnerable head was driven away from my shoulders by the immoveable flesh flattening my tiny neck and straining chest. My mother was going to kill me just like a bug. My tiny head… The pressure was going to… She's going to press a little bit more and my head… My head is going to come off! Before I knew what was happening I spasmed and came, my semen lost in the ridges of my mother's fingerprint.



 



Suddenly, the gargantuan finger lifted up and away. I dimly watched as my mother retrieved her hand and brought it to her face. She had felt me spasm! What punishment would she have doled out if I was normal size and had committed such an act? But now… My scalp tingled in panic and I felt like I was falling into an endless pit of despair as I struggled to breathe. She looked over the tip of her index finger for a moment before rubbing it against her thumb, spreading my tiny, inconsequential mess into nothing.



 



"Goodness! You had better come up here with me, Mike. I want to talk to you."



 



With a large smile my mother bent even lower at the waist, reaching for me. Her tight shorts groaned as the folded tanned legs pivoted in the sky, spreading wider. I still lay despondent and twitching in the same depression her gigantic fingerprint had pressed me into a moment ago. There was nothing left in my stomach to eject as the hand descended between the golden peaks of her legs for me, poised in a pinch. I was powerless to stop my enormous mother whose mere fingertips utterly dwarfed me.

 

 

 

My incredible mother daintily pinched my tiny, limp and trembling form between her monstrous thumb and forefinger. The act itself while gentle was brutal to my tiny form. The massive, rough flesh of her index fingertip collided with me and it's sheer mass tumbled me away from it. I was slammed against my mother's encroaching thumb tip. A moment later the two cruel digits had captured me, from my tiny feet all the way up to my neck. Her searingly hot skin mercilessly compressed and overwhelmed my pitiful body. I realized I had not even enjoyed the few breaths she had allowed me before she had gathered me up between her huge fingertips. I rocketed upwards, feeling giddy and simultaneously sick. My head was thrown back into the thick rubbery flesh behind my head, couched there against the G forces assaulting my tiny form. I slowed and then stopped, somewhere close to her waist. The vast, vertical landscape of my mom stood and turned towards the couch.



 



Far below me I watched as my clothes were pushed to the side effortlessly, now a shapeless heap trod upon by her enormous gorgeous feet. The sudden turn made my head swim and my stomach swoon. Though she had merely pivoted on her feet as she held me, my tiny body had accelerated and hurtled in a tight semicircle, all while being tightly compressed between her thumb and forefinger. As my mom sat on the couch, I yelped, violently hurtling downwards with her. As I panted, trying to recover from her slightest movements I took in an awe-inspiring sight: my goddess-like mother crossed her legs. What to her was a simple and thoughtless act was to me was an awe-inspiring spectacle. I swallowed hard as I watched an incalculably long tanned leg rise and fold as it came to rest upon the veritable hill of her knee. My brief reverie was ended as she brought me to her face.



 



I could never describe what it was like to look into such a familiar face at such a tiny size. I began hyperventilating as the horror of my mother's face so close overwhelmed me. All of those beautiful yet mundane features had become a vertical, living landscape. I wanted nothing more than to hide from her gaze. The unreadable gleam in her eyes was no longer a mystery. She had been gleefully anticipating my reduction in size. Now I understood her smugness, and at an inch tall I deserved her arrogant, triumphant smirk.

 

 

 

My mother's enormous fingertips eased in their grip and I sucked in grateful breaths between my sobs. My dick, lost in the dense skin of her huge thumb pad, was numb. Her beautiful mouth was supremely frightening and erotic to watch. She could toss me into that immense mouth like a single piece of popcorn. My mom spoke gently, never losing that haughty, terrible smile. I could feel her overwhelming voice impact against my skin and resonate the tiny bones of my skull.



 



"There we are. Well, now I've got you right where I want you, my irresponsible and absent son! You were always just so busy, weren't you? Making all those new friends, and having all those new experiences. For months now I've been begging you to come and visit me. You barely managed to make it out this time. I wasn't so sure you would come, the way you were talking. Didn't you know that I've really been missing you?"



 



I was speechless. Funny way for her to show it!



 



"Doesn't it mean anything to you when your lonely, single mother wants to spend time with you, her only son? Well, you're here now, and I've made sure that you're not going anywhere! You and I are going to spend some quality time together, Mikey!"



 



My mom lowered her hand to her lap and rested the back of it on the expansive curved plain of one of her thighs. I felt my stomach churn again. She continued to keep me delicately clamped between her elegant fingers like a piece of candy. I looked up at my frightening captor. My mother's face and long blonde hair were now far above, foreshortened to the point of outlandishness, now just the distant peak of the vast mountain of tanned flesh and coarse fabric. You would think that from my point of view she might look like a monument. But, monuments don't move, they don't look you in the eyes as they squeeze you a bit more in their gigantic grasp like a defeated bug.



 



My mother's upper body lowered towards me and I began struggling, whatever she was about to do I wanted no part of it. I could not help but to react as if the prow of some huge oil tanker were bearing down on me. But it was only my mother's massive, pretty face. Her face became very close as her other enormous hand lowered and it's index finger reached out to touch me as she spoke. I instinctively wanted to flee but I could not move at all.



 



"You're going to make it all up to me, Mike. We're going to spend a lot of time together, but I'm not sure you're going to enjoy all of it. That's too bad, because I think I'll be enjoying our time together."



 



My mother smiled thoughtfully and her beautiful fingertip zeroed in on my tiny head. I could not escape it, I was completely trapped. Her digit was almost as large in diameter as I was tall. I was hoarsely screaming as her enormous fingertip blotted everything else out of my vision. My tiny screams were suddenly cut off by the imposition of my mother's touch. I heard a small, content murmur of satisfaction in reaction to my abrupt and forceful silencing. The fingertip gracefully and gently mauled my tiny face with small strokes across it. The ridges of her flesh scraped along my tiny features, thoroughly smashing them and then would pull away, readying for another pass. Above me my mother was smirking, relishing my absolute helplessness.



 



I could only hang there and pant. My eyes had teared up and they stung from being harshly maltreated against my mother's fingerprint. Her huge, frightening thumb joined her exploring index finger and they deftly pinched at my tiny, flailing legs as I desperately tried to keep them free.

 

 

 

"Aww. Look at those tiny things! I'm just going to- I just want to see one of these handsome legs."

 

 

 

With little effort my left leg was caught between the huge red nails. My foot and shin was deeply trapped in the ridged crevice of her finger's pads. I was shrieking as I fruitlessly tugged with all my might. My miniature limb was engulfed almost all the way up to my hip and I watched as she grinned. My tiny limb was not much more than the size of a sewing needle between the intimidating and flawless nails. I choked on my own panicked breathing and moaned in shock.

 

 

 

"You've always had such nice, muscular legs, Mikey. Good, strong swimmer's legs."

 

 

 

I wanted to throw up again. It felt like the blood in my leg was squeezed downwards, almost forced into my foot as my mother gently slid her colossal fingernails down to my ankle. The beautiful, apparently omnipotent being grinned cheerfully as she held onto my miniature foot, trapped between the tips of her nails. She watched in fascination as I struggled against her.



 



"I've got some special things planned for us. I don't think you need to worry about it, it's just boring stuff that your mother does all the time. But you can help me out, can't you? That's the least you can do, isn't it, Mikey? You've always been really good at doing the minimum required, haven't you? Well, just look at yourself! Now you're the minimum required son. I don't need or want more of you than this. I just need a little bit and you are definitely just a little bit!"



 



My mother's index finger and thumb released my foot before folding away. Her littlest finger unfolded and then lowered slowly towards me as her gigantic, amused eyes stared into my frightened face. There was nothing little at all about my mother's pinky, it was at least fifteen feet in length and perhaps four feet in diameter. The tremendous fingertip came close overhead and loomed there authoritatively as she smirked. My tiny face was gently touched for a moment before the digit pulled away, hovering over me ominously.

 

 

 

"You're going to make it all up to me, aren't you, Mikey? Because I've got your undivided attention now, don't I?" My mother whispered, her eyes gleaming, "I bet that you don't even want me to lift a finger, do you?"

 

 

 

My vast mother was smirking with relish as my entire tiny and vulnerable head was slowly captured beneath her littlest finger's pad. My skull was pinned against the unmoving backdrop of her pinched fingers which still confined and held me. I was babbling, my tiny face pressed against her dense flesh. Despite my mouth being smashed against the salty fingerprint, I tried uselessly to beg my goddess-sized mother for mercy. "You're going to do whatever I want, right?" The dense cushion of ridged flesh delicately pressed down, cruelly conforming around my gasping, sputtering head and entombing it. "You're going to be desperate to keep me happy now, right, Mikey?" She kept me subdued like that for what seemed like an eternity.

 

 

 

Finally my mother removed her pinky from my head. I was panting as she softly touched the tiny, quivering pieces of my body which stuck out past the expansive crevice of her thumb and index finger. She was smiling happily, savoring each massive, careful contact. Her intimidating pinky fingertip delicately roamed across me as if it was exploring the downy, fragile sphere of a pregnant dandelion. I felt like my chest was going to collapse. My tiny, ineffective arms were effortlessly thwarted, effortlessly overruled, folded painfully against my torso or buried beneath the unstoppable and weighty trace of her digit. My own tears and saliva which glistened on her swirled fingerprint were smeared on to the backs of my hands, my knees, my tiny shins. She laughed at me again, hurting my ears and her digit pulled away.

 

 

 

The gargantuan thumb and index finger which gripped me rotated until I hung over her pinky fingertip and just beyond it the vast, smooth thigh. The digits eased their cruel squeeze dramatically. Gravity took hold of me and I slid downward, suddenly free of her monstrous pinch. I fell away from her digits only a short distance and collided with her upturned finger. I scrambled in a panic, wrapping my arms and legs as well as I could around my mother's pinky fingertip.



 

 

Slightly behind me and to my left were the huge, folded fingers of my mother's upturned left hand. Laying lightly down against them was her colossal thumb, the digit was large enough to rival a compact car in size. The finger I clung tightly to lifted and tilted as she raised her hand closer to her face and looked me over. I could feel her breath on my back and out of the corner of my eye I could see the platinum shine of her hair.

 

 

 

"Aww. That's very nice. Very, very nice! I suppose that I don't even need to say a word about where you are right now, do I, Mikey? It's such obvious symbolism. I like that." I was sobbing as my mother's vast thumbpad came in from behind and crushed me against her little finger's hot, grooved bulk in a delicate pinch.







My mother's hand which held me slid away from her face and I plummeted, hurtling downward just beyond the tall, golden towers of her shins. Her upturned pinky finger lowered to the floor a short distance out in front of her. The vast thumb pad's moist bulk peeled free of my back. The edge of her thumbnail pressed down against her pinky, beyond my legs, and she scraped me free of her fingertip like a bit of trash. My mother removed her hand, but remained folded over, her ample chest practically touching her lap.



 



I immediately scrambled stiffly to my feet, but then I was paralyzed. Directly in front of me, perhaps fifty yards away were her gargantuan feet. I realized that I might only come up to near the top of her big toes. Above me her beautiful face stared enigmatically down at me, her humor suddenly gone. Her stern, pretty face was flanked on each side by one of her tanned knees. For the second time today I felt like I had been punched in the stomach as I vividly recall her preoccupation with her feet, plucking up the perfume bottle's cap, stroking the pad of her big toe as she wondered out loud about… I began to back up.



 



"Well, now that I've got you here, I think that there should be some protocols that need to be in place for us to best enjoy our time together. Don't you? I am sure that the first thing that comes to your mind might be something like; please don't hurt me mommy! I understand. You are such a tiny thing now, aren't you? I should be concerned about you're wellbeing, shouldn't I? Wouldn't that be the motherly thing to do? Because... you're a good son, right?"

 

 

 

My mother's intimidating toes all flexed before pressing down into the carpet. They bulged, fattening and growing pale. I could feel subtle shifts in the vast, dusty netting of the carpet's substrate. My mouth became dry as I stared in horror at those sexy, mighty appendages that now cruelly and utterly dwarfed me.

 

 

 

"Hmm. But, wait a minute! Didn't I ask you to come out for my birthday? I should have expected my only son to automatically show up, but I wasn't sure with how neglectful of me you have been since you started college. So I asked you directly and of course, you said you would. I opened my presents. I had cake with your aunts. You never showed up. I ate dinner alone that night. Oh, I'm sure you had more important things to do, didn't you, Mikey? Then, remember when I called you up and begged you to come over and relight my furnace? I know, Mikey, it was only a voice mail. They are so easy to ignore, aren't they? That was a fifty dollar house call the furnace repair man made- just to relight the furnace."



 



My vast, looming mother leaned down closer and the huge couch creaked ominously. Her enormous face was blank, her pretty mouth terse. 



 



"You had responsibilities and you neglected them. I thought you would be considerate, compassionate and lend a hand when desperately needed by your poor mother, but you didn't. Well, Mikey, you owe me a birthday present. You also owe me fifty dollars. You owe me a lot more than that, too. I think you should try to make amends. I have some ideas how you might make everything better between us. But, not right now. It's my turn to be selfish, isn't it?”









My mother's enormous beautiful right foot rose into the air and she wiggled her colossal toes as she smiled coldly. I was so tiny! She could crush me with the slightest movement of one of those sexy digits. I was truly a bug compared to her. My mind raced, plummeting into fantastical and unfortunately horribly possible musings. I could become lost in the crevices between those unreal toes. I could live out my days there, trapped in the hot, endlessly shifting cracks of my own mother's enormous toe flesh. Would I grow pale and sickly? Would I become a tiny, dirty wretch living off of the fetid, nutrient-poor grease which perpetually and invisibly coated those lovely appendages?

 

 

 

My own visions humbled me in a horrible way I had never experienced before, in a way that was perhaps not healthy for my mind. I staggered and reeled, almost falling down, almost slipping out of consciousness. The simple realization of my plight was a horrible wound laid in the very center of my psyche. I blinked back tears as my mouth trembled and a cold sweat overcame me. I smacked my dry lips like a senile old man as I sought to focus on the only thing I could… the flexing of those giant toes which hovered in the sky between my tiny form and my mother's distant, frightening face.



 



"I have every right to feel a little bit selfish, I think. I even have you now, don't I? So this is perfect, my spoiled rotten son, an inch tall and literally at my feet! I feel like indulging myself. But, where to start? We'll start with that bill for having my furnace re-lit. But, Mikey, you're so tiny, it's going to take quite a while to pay back that fifty dollars to me."

 

 

 

As she spoke I was dreadfully preoccupied with the underside of her mighty big toe which floated majestically between us. The slightly long toenail overshot the great plump behemoth of glistening, grooved flesh. My mother's pretty and well-pampered toe filled me with terrible fear. At such an awesome size this trivial piece of her anatomy was truly an embodiment of cruel feminine authority. I was trembling. She had stroked it, right there, right in the middle as she whispered crazy things... I was snapped out of my horrible realization as the distant, hidden hips shifted forwards slightly, causing the unreal structure of the couch to groan like a muttering glacier.

 

 

 

"Well, I think right now I want to experience what you feel like, Mikey. I've really been thinking about that a lot lately. Exploring your little body is worth some pocket change to me. Just think of this as payment for services rendered! It sounds so risqué, doesn't it? Sort of like being a male dancer I suppose. You've got a good enough body for that, you know. But, they have standards, and I think you're just not tall enough anymore. So I have another form of adult entertainment in mind for you, another way you can pay mommy back. We'll talk about my belated birthday present later."



 



A little smile crossed my colossal mother's distant face and the huge big toe of her dangling foot dipped low as the other smaller toes spread widely. I turned to run but there was no way I could outdistance her impossibly long leg. A shadow grew around me and an unstoppable force collided with me from behind, it was quite warm and strangely textured as it impacted against my back. I was knocked to the carpet and I managed to roll over. As I screamed, holding out my tiny, ridiculously slender arms the bulky, elegant big toe lowered onto me.



 



My screams turned to pitiful frightened wails as the toe slowly lowered. My feet were the first of my body to be dominated. As the bulbous, heavily ridged flesh slowly lowered it's naturally bulky shape steam-rolled down over my tiny feet, I managed to position them turned to the outside. My quick thinking probably saved the dislocation of my ankles. The weight was incredible and quickly I was captured up to my waist. There was now only a sliver, a crevice of free space above my torso and face. My tiny head thumped against my mother's ridged skin as I panicked. This made her laugh thunderously. I knew I couldn't fight her, that sentiment was instinctive but utterly ridiculous. I stopped pushing back against the overwhelming digit and quickly lowered my arms to my sides, palms down. As it grew dark around me I laid back and concentrated on breathing and not screaming.

 

 

 

"Oh, Mikey! That's nice! Mmm."



 



My mother's hot and tacky skin touched my face and then there was incredible pressure. This was far worse than being underneath her punishing fingertip. At first I wasn't sure if I would be crushed into a paste. My bones, on the verge of collapse popped and creaked. My tiny face was assaulted by ridges as wide as my thumb and spaced that far apart as well. My tiny features were smashed into my mother's merciless toe flesh. I felt the impossibly large toe pad finally distort slightly around my diminutive pinned form. I could hear and even feel her pulse. Despite or perhaps because of my shock and terror my cock was hard and cradled in the groove between two ridges of my mother's toe print.



 



The pressure eased and I sensed light through my closed eyelids. There was motion shuddering down through the maternal flesh which had captured me. The enormous toe slowly slid backwards, her toe print scrubbed and undulated across my fragile skin. My skin was being tugged at and my hard penis was dragged around in a semicircle until it pointed down between my legs. I cried out in pain as it felt like the whole front of my body was being torn at. I opened my eyes and found that my tiny head was now in the free air. Above me was the mighty tip of my mother's big toe, rotund and tan, bulging out like a giant fat pillow compressed under slight weight. The toenail jutted out from her flesh, a short canopy made of horn. I could see the deep scratches and matte surface where an enormous nail file had done its work in preparation for lacquer.



 



"Ahh, there's a pretty little head."



 



I could see my immense mother peering down at me, just her brilliant blue eyes and a mess of long blonde hair, her enormous toe and long toenail obscuring everything else.



 



"I hope this is okay, Mike. You're going to have to get used to this. You feel good to me under there, just like I had hoped you would. Just think of it as an expression of how our relationship is right now."



 



Her eyes crinkled, she was smiling.



 



"It doesn't seem like a very good relationship to you, I suppose. Don't think of it like that. You're just working off that fifty dollars, that's all. So you give me a big smile and work it. You've already paid me back five whole dollars, because you're so wonderfully delicate against mommy's great big scary toe. Forty-five to go. What? You think I'm being unfair? Well, you show mommy some more moves then, you little teaser. How about I press down a little bit. Just a little bit, just a little taste."



 



She winked at me as I struggled vainly, panicked and trapped beneath tons of her toe flesh. The pressure was back, but this time my head was out beyond her crazy anatomy. The tip of the enormous toe above me deformed slightly as my bones popped. I felt my rib cage tremble and my head was assaulted as the ridged skin bulged, swelling out and deforming, almost flowing down over my face. My ears were folded painfully as my whole body was slowly embedded into the harsh, wire-like carpet fibers.

 



 

My gigantic mother held me there like that for too long. No air could reach my lungs and if it could I didn't have enough space mechanically to take in a breath. Only my eyes and the top of my head were free at all. They were still caught beneath her toe print, just not tortuously compressed like the rest of my pitifully tiny frame. It seemed that an eternity after my panic had died, around the time I had stopped struggling and was fleeing to the dark, featureless place inside my screaming brain cells there was a change. My nervous system sensed a difference upon my nakedness and that sparking signal brought me back. I was being tugged upwards painfully. As I gasped and panted I realized I was clear of the carpet fibers. I sucked in a breath and coughed raggedly.



 

 

I opened the free eye of my still-smashed face, my view was of convex flesh and it's limitless swirled toe print. Somewhere to my side, at the limits of my vision I could see the carpet, it was well below me. I was plastered the bottom of her beautiful big toe like a bug. Stuck directly to my massive and overbearing torturer via the stinky and sticky funk which coated my mother's digit. I heard a massive giggle which split the air around me. There was movement and suddenly a colossal fingertip lightly grazed across me as I moaned. It pressed me into the fleshy pad and I heard her chuckle under her breath. Then the thick blunt tips of her fingernails indelicately trapped my tiny torso between them and peeled me free from the reddened toe pad. I screamed as my body's weight was suddenly completely free and suspended from the pinch of her nail-tips. It was like being pinned and dangling between two enormous, cruel keratin shovels pressed in opposition against each other.



 



I was limp, my limbs dangling and weakly twitching like some wilted, spindly toy as my mother gently laid me down close to the intimidating toes of her relaxed right foot. I knew I had welts, bruises on my ribs and hips. I lay there in front of the bulging fleshy curves of her monolithic toes like a discarded bit of trash. I was panting as I fought to ride out the initial wave of pain.

 

 

 

I could see all of my mother's face now, far above me. In a way, I wished that I could not look directly at her. She was calm and relaxed, not wrecked, not winded and limp like me. What she had just done to me took more care and effort to limit her exertion so I did not die than anything else. Looking up at pure and ferocious might which wore that particular face was deeply humbling. Knowing that the mind behind those unassumingly pretty eyes enjoyed and relished her intentionally will-breaking, torturous play was terrifying.



 



"That was quite nice! I think, maybe, you knocked off some more of your tab! Say, seven dollars worth? Only thirty-eight dollars left! Are you ready to make some more money with that nice little body of yours? It's too bad that you couldn't have used your nice muscles to help you pay your way through college. But maybe you prefer the underside of your mother's dainty toes to dancing naked in front of a bunch of strange middle-aged women? I mean, at some point their hands would have been all over you, Mikey. You would have been treated like an object." 



 



The beautiful toes all arched upwards at once and there was a heavy vibration that shook my vision as the foot I lay in front of plowed forward over me. I was now underneath my mother's raised toes. I rolled over and struggled to at least get to my knees before I attempted to stand. I could only wobble and heave with my limbs pulled weakly beneath me as I panted. Directly above me was motion and I looked up just in time to see my mother's gigantic toes spread wide. The distant face, crowning the mountain of her impossible body watched me with some concern as I tried and failed to make it to my feet.

 



 



"Aww. Are you having some problems there, Mikey? You shouldn't be so rude when your mother is talking to you. You had better show me some respect. You need to learn your place, I think."



 



I saw her smile and then her humongous big toe lowered. The carpet around me grew dark as I begged her in a weak, croaking voice. The bulging, massive toe pad became the slowly lowering ceiling of my macabre little world. The ridged flesh lightly touched me, at first only forcing my tiny head down between my shoulders. In a mad panic I began to weakly crawl, trying desperately to avert my painful fate.

 

 

 

"Aww, that tickles! That's very cute, but you're not going to get away from me, Mike. This is exactly where you belong."

 

 

 

Her immense big toe slowly drove me down into the carpet as my delicate bones popped. For a moment I was completely sealed underneath the casually applied might of my mother's toe. As it arched upwards again I was momentarily taken with it, stuck back-first to the hot, salty flesh. With a quick, painful, searing sensation my nakedness peeled away and I tumbled into a heap beneath her toes again.



 



"There, I know it's confusing, sweetie, trying to find your proper place in the world. It always is. But you'll soon get the hang of it. I want you to know, Mikey, mommy would never treat you like those women at that nasty little club. I'm not dishonest, not like them. They objectified you, Mikey, when they should have known better. Perhaps it was a simple, harmless fantasy, but it's still dishonesty. But, you're an inch tall now and I own you. That isn't dishonest. You're mine, Mikey, you're my toy now. That isn't a harmless fantasy, is it?"

 

 

 

The dominating, ridged flesh of her big toe's pad lowered and dabbed gently against the carpet, feeling for me and it quickly found me again. The mighty digit jealously covered me and it hovered there, stock still, lightly keeping me trapped in place beneath it. I was trembling as the vast skin filled me once again with her overpowering body heat.

 

 

 

"You just lost your way for a little bit, that's all. Your behavior even affected our relationship, didn't it? But, you're not lost now, are you Mikey? I know right where you are and I'm not going to give up on you so easily. You failed to include me in your new life. But I've fixed that now, haven't I? Since you couldn't or wouldn't include me -even a little bit- in your life I've just rearranged a few things, that's all. Now instead of you having a say, I'll decide. I'll take the initiative. I'll be in charge. I'll be the one to include you in my life, how I see fit. But, just a little bit, Mikey, just a little bit of you! Isn't that more or less the way you wanted it, hmm? We're going to have a much more fitting relationship now, don't you think? A better one for both of us."

 

 

 

Tears clouded my eyes as I peered out from the shadowy, hot overhang of fragrant skin and across the vast expanse of carpet. I was no more than a fragile bug now. I was a vulnerable, helpless toy trapped underneath one of my own mother's pretty toes. "This is a much better arrangement, don't you think? Mommy will always know right where you are from now on. I'll be able to keep track of you, monitor your behavior with just a simple touch. Oh, and Mikey, you're always going to know right where I am, from now on! You'll never be able to ignore me ever again. I'm going to be a big part of your life from now on. A very big part, Mikey." The air was forced out of my tiny lungs as the convex wall of rough skin slowly stroked me beneath it like some tiny, domesticated pet.

 

 

 

My mother offered me no mercy. Her big toe delicately savaged my tiny naked body beneath it. The long, slow strokes forced vast stretches of rough toe print to grate across my delicately soft shrunken skin. After only a little bit I felt as if I was about to suffer from friction burns on large areas of my body. I was forced to fight against the unstoppable digit and the deep carpet so I could roll and shield my more tender and reddened places. Finally she stopped petting me and her foot simply relaxed downward. I screamed and struggled to no avail as the oppressive weight of my mother's big toe forced me down against the carpet's rough backing.

 

 

 

I was just a bug. I was trapped completely and condemned to a very particular form of hell. All of this because my mother, Linda, had relaxed her gigantic, beautiful feet on the carpet. I was bawling and choking in the gritty dust set loose from the huge carpet filaments compressed tightly around me. I prayed. It should be obvious who or what I prayed to: the sticky, hot wall. I prayed to the smelly, ridged and immovable firmament of uncaring flesh that was everywhere beyond the wiry bundles of carpet fibers. I continued to pray and plead up into the hard, dense millimeters of my mother which touched my face and then I lay sobbing hopelessly in the darkness.

 

 

 

Suddenly the sweltering flesh was gone and I was blind in the cold, bright air. Something hard and smooth pressed into me and I was violently extricated from the carpet fibers. I lay there gasping and caught a glimpse of her grinning in the sky overhead as she withdrew one of her beautiful hands upwards and rested it upon a truly hill-like knee. The cool air renewed me and I drank it in gratefully as my skin throbbed.



 



The big toe and her second toe lowered around me and slowly closed, trapping my delicate nakedness in a crevice composed of thick, muscular walls. She seemed to savor my plight and smiled as I fought her threatening toes. I suddenly realized that her left hand had been placed squarely on her crotch. She was gently rubbing herself through her shorts. When her monstrous flesh had finally narrowed enough that her toe's ridged crevice touched all of me except for my tiny head, she smiled down at me, giggling as I clawed and kicked ferociously. I was lifted off of the carpet.



 



All of my body, up to my shoulders was trapped in hot, rough flesh. I was barely able to breathe and could not move my head. My face was locked, pointing straight up. In the sky overhead I was confronted by my mother, her form skewed and distorted badly by (in my mind) her sheer size. The pretty middle fingers of her left hand slowly stroked her crotch through her tight shorts. I could not help but look, the activity was interposed between myself and her distant features. She had a strange look on her face as she regarded my bug-sized form clasped carefully between her toes. She smiled and adjusted herself on the couch.



 



"I just can't get my mind off of that dirty club. What kind of a person would go to a place like that on a regular basis? Perhaps those women were just lonely, Mikey? Hmm? Maybe they don't have such attentive sons? Or children at all? Empty nesters and divorcees with too much idle time?" Her upper body bowed lower and her face swept slowly from side to side as she studied my barely exposed head. Her middle fingertip pressed firmly into her huge hidden sex. "Then it's lucky for me that I've got you, isn't it? You'll keep me company, won't you?" She smirked.



 



The enormous toes which held me closed completely. I was crying hopelessly, vertically suspended in a hot, ridged crack. The mighty toes scrunched, bending and shortening in a curl. I cried out in pain as my tiny form was overwhelmed by bulging, immensely muscled flesh pressing into me painfully. I was wheezing as the air was forced from my lungs.



 



"I'll bet those terrible women just wanted your body. They probably thought you were sexy. Well, I'm glad I stepped in when I did. I know you think you're big and strong, honey. But, some women can be predators. Others could have enough money that they might want to make an arrangement… with you. I've seen it before. The physically unattractive or bad mannered who would have the gall to try and bribe you into becoming their boy toy. But, you're never going to end up like that. Remember, Mikey, you have a beautiful body, and there are women out there that would like to take advantage of you."



 



The beautiful long digits relaxed and slowly, gently wiggled against each other, rolling me like a piece of lint. My tiny limbs were compressed and driven into each other and into my tiny torso. I wailed in torment as my tiny head was enveloped completely in the hot and slightly sticky ridged walls which hid the enormous cruel toe muscles and springy padding. My cruel and lovely tormentors stopped and relaxed slightly. I panted heavily as I looked upwards in absolute horror, peering up out of the rounded, fleshy trench. In the sky overhead my mother was smiling gently, almost sweetly.



 



"You will never be anyone else's toy. You have too much dignity for that, don't you? You're a good boy, aren't you? I'm going to make sure you to stay that way. You're vulnerable, Mikey. I know you don't like it when I talk like that about you. But, it's true though, isn't it?"



 



The toes lowered to the carpet and slowly opened. I was plastered like a lover to my mother's long second toe.



 



"I know what you're thinking, but mom, you are a middle-aged woman, just like them! Yes, Mikey, of course, and I'm single now, too! I am a lot like them! But ask yourself, could some random middle-aged woman from that club ever satisfy you? Do you really want your innocence devoured by some old hag? Why, they don't even know a thing about you! How could they have ever satisfied you at all. Mikey? You need someone who knows what you... like. Don't you deserve that, honey? Someone who can attend to your needs?"



 



My mother leaned down and a colossal hand lowered down over me as I fought to peel my face off of her second toe. I could see her actions through my single, stinging eye which was not cruelly pasted to her. I could not free my face from her skin and I was too exhausted to protest as an elegant hand unfurled it's index finger. The fingertip traced down my trembling, heaving back before pressing against my tiny hips. My mother's thick thumb joined it, pinching the length of my tiny body.

 

 

 

I was broken free of my adhesion and ground against the pampered skin of the "trunk" of her second toe for tens of seconds. The entire front side of my tiny nakedness was softly stroked against the huge digit. The wide, fleshy pad of this long second toe invaded my tiny, trapped form as I was forced against it. First, my pitifully tiny face was ground into it and then my tiny crotch was stroked across it as she cooed reassuringly. Finally the cruel goddess dropped me into a heap between her widely spread toes. The thickly lacquered red nail tip of her index finger rolled my limp form over before nudging my tiny hard cock.



 



She grinned widely, "It looks like you prefer dancing underneath me, rather than dealing with some nasty single women at some bar, don't you? Let's do some more of that. You just work on making money. Mommy will do the rest."



 



She leaned back and brought her feet together beneath her with a thick tremor that shuddered through me painfully. Her hand went to the armrest and then my mother stood up from the couch. I managed to make it to my feet. The enormous beautiful toes wiggled in anticipation. I turned to run but I only made it a few steps before I fell heavily.

 

 



"Oops! What's wrong, Mikey? I thought you were pretty light on your feet. Maybe you should have been doing some cardio along with your weightlifting routine?"



 



There was a rustling, swishing behind me and as I struggled to my feet the carpet beneath me collapsed, deforming from a great weight. I yelped in surprise as a cold, slick surface pressed into me, forcibly lifting me. It was the long red toenail of one of my mother's big toes. For a moment I was sprawled against it face down. The mighty digit drove forward underneath of me as it slid across the carpet. I was catapulted into the air as the meaty toe arched upwards in a gentle flick. I crashed down, tens of feet in my scale away from her foot. The wind had been knocked from me and I lay there gasping. As I stupidly gazed upwards, stunned and reeling, my mother gracefully thundered to me. A house sized foot was planted on each side of me at some distance away. Her hands were on her hips and she studied me with a laugh as I fought to scramble up onto my feet.



 



"Oh, Mike. This is so much better than I had imagined. Here, let me show you what I mean."



 



One sexy foot raised and she slowly took a step over me. I cried out as the enormous sole sailed low over my head. As her foot impacted the living room floor I was knocked down again. I landed face down in the scratchy, dusty carpet and struggled to get back up. There was a heavy vibration that shot up through the floor coupled with the terrible sound of her enormous feet pivoting simultaneously. I was between my mother's beautiful and terrifying feet. I backpedaled awkwardly, it was almost impossible to walk upright on the carpet for me. Each step partially bent over a gray bristle the size of my wrist underfoot. These enormous bristles of carpet fibers were springy and tough to my tiny fragile form. It was difficult to find a steady footing at all, they moved underfoot and when I was not stepping on the strange bristles the hard backing of the carpet was a rough latticework of holes. It was like walking on large pieces of gravel with my sensitive, shoe pampered feet.



 



I tried as hard as I could to get away from her but the yacht-sized feet kept me between them. She was watching me, one hand still resting authoritatively on her hip, the other one pressed between her legs. As I would struggle to escape she would leisurely take one quaking step to nullify all of my effort. Those beautiful toes toyed with me, gently nudging me and tossing me to the carpet. She would arch her toes upwards and threaten to capture me beneath them as she smiled. Finally, one of her feet gracefully lifted from the carpet to deal with me. Her toes fanned out as her foot flew slowly at me. I was knocked almost senseless by a long toenail and thrown off of my feet. A split-second later her toes closed upon me, roughly clasping me from feet to head in her hot and thankfully soft flesh. I squealed as she slowly twirled her foot at the ankle.



 



"Well, that is certainly worth two dollars to me. Thirty-six dollars remaining."



 



My mother's foot sped across the carpet, out away from her. For a moment it hovered as her enormous toes squeezed into me. My breath was pushed forcefully from my body and I saw stars, the pressure exerted by the soft, hot walls around me almost robbing me of consciousness. All I could see was tanned flesh and the shiny red gloss of a nail. Her toes spread apart and I found myself plastered belly first to the side of her big toe. Above me my mother laughed.



 



"Ooh, Mikey! You know what I like, don't you? Work it!"



 



The surface I was adhered to was slowly rising and falling. I struggled and managed to peel my face free of her thick skin. She was waggling her big toe, turning it as she looked down at me, aroused and amused.



 



"Such a tiny thing, aren't you? Well, break time is over, Mikey. You've got a really big and important client to attend to."



 



I was indignantly squeezed and rolled like a piece of trash between her huge toes until I was broken free from the stinky congealed sweat. I plummeted to the carpet below.



 



I hurt and I coughed as the dust from the carpet was dislodged by my impact and it rose up and into my lungs. Something cold and hard impacted the side of my body and I was rolled over. I stared at the bottom of her prodigious big toe. She lowered it over me, but did not touch me with it.



 



"I've got ten dollars for you if you put that little mouth of yours to work. You know what I mean," my little roof of bulging toe pad flattened me gently beneath it for a moment before returning to threaten me from above, "I want to feel that little tongue. You can do that, can't you Mikey? I bet you'll like it."



 



I started crying as I lay there. After another moment she moved her toe to the side.



 



"Fine then. Maybe later. But I'm not happy that you wouldn't do it."



 



The big toe was back and it elegantly dipped over me. It pressed down on me, pushing me into the carpet fibers harshly and she was suffocating me with it as my tiny bones protested being slightly flexed.



 



"If there's one thing I've learned, it is that you are sticky. I like that. Is that from me? Do you have my sweat all over you? Goodness knows I have enough of it."



 



She slowly raised her big toe, I was once again glued to it, my tiny body stuck to the underside of her mighty appendage.



 



"Yes, nice and sticky."



 



She reached down and gently pinched me between her fingers, peeling me off of her toe's pad. I dangled upside down from my legs and I flailed as she held me in the air. My mother sat down on the carpet. She adjusted her legs, sitting almost cross legged, like a yoga pose and brought the soles of her feet together. She lowered me over her toes as the enormous appendages wiggled and slid against each other.



 



"You don't to want to lick my toes? That's okay, Mikey. I'm not done exploring that little body with them yet. I think this will be relaxing for me. Sort of peaceful."



 



The bulky flesh of the two big toes parted slightly and I was lowered into the crevice between them. My mother closed her toes and my arms were trapped, pinned into immovability between the fleshy walls. They tingled fiercely and I felt a backlash that exhibited itself as a headache as the blood from my arms encountered resistance circulating properly.



 



"You're right, those are some nice muscles. I didn't want to feel them before. I should listen to you more often!"



 



My tiny arms were tugged on and I was screaming. All I could see was her enormous index finger and thumb which gripped my legs and her smiling face beyond them. Then her toes parted once again. She lowered me a little bit more and then her torturous ridged flesh slammed shut over my arms and head as she giggled. Little by little my mother's big toes "consumed" me. Eventually her fingers let go of me, and she gently sealed me in between both of her big toe's fleshy pads, trapping me like a limp piece of lint. Little did I know things were about to get so much worse for me. She was not content to cradle me like a soft, malleable little matchstick between her colossal toes.

 

 

The hot, rough crevice where I lay wedged parted above me, pried away by an enormous fingernail. My mother's face was all I could see past my hellish confinement. She had obviously relaxed forward and had clasped, or could clasp, her ankles with her hands. An amused, dark grin crossed her face as she looked me over.



 



"I sort of thought you might fight more, with all of your bravado. Aww, I can feel your tiny sobs. Now, I want to explore that tiny body really, really well, Mikey. I want to intimately know what you're all about. Mommy thinks that you at least deserve for me to be thorough. Now, show me those big muscles you're always working on.”



 



The finger slipped free and I was entombed and suffocating once again. My mother gently and slowly rubbed her big toes against each other, crushing the air from my lungs and rolling me hellishly between the giant walls of stinky and sticky toe flesh. This was nightmarish to my tiny form. The pads of her big toes were absolutely immense and utterly dwarfed me. The vast skin of the two surfaces was backed up by incredibly firm musculature, they were so dense and roundly plump that they resembled being ground between two inflatable moonwalk rides that were filled almost to bursting with heavy, warm tar.



 



I was rolled between her immense digits in ways that robbed me of the ability to scream or even breathe. My bones flexed and my joints popped over and over again. I know that I passed out several times. Each time I awoke from my merciful interludes, my blank, rapidly reconstituting mind desperately sought to make sense exactly where I was. The human mind needs little to work with, we are more incredible than we give ourselves credit for. Each erroneous scenario could have been true, should have been true if I had been the victim of some sane, normal disaster.

 

 

 

Each time upon waking I tried to come to terms with my plight right before I ultimately remembered. Each time I was wrong. Unfortunately, it wasn't earthquake, I was not trapped under a building, these were not the bottoms of life rafts, or massive weather balloons. I had not been in an accident involving an elephant or elephants, nor was this a collapsing agricultural hot-house. This was not some gigantic industrial mixing hopper for gum arabic, or sap from a plantation of rubber trees, these were not fancifully painted cylindrical eighteen-wheeler trailer tanks designed to hold milk or natural gas or even toluene. I was not the victim of parade floats or fanciful parade balloons, diseased whales, or adobe home construction. All of this was sane, though most of it was highly implausable. But perhaps I would have survived. Perhaps I would have been able to continue my life afterwards, returning to the greater world where I belonged.



 



Each time I awoke I worked it out, I realized quickly what held me and squeezed me like a tiny piece of fugitive polymer clay. I was now merely a plaything. It was between my mother's colossal big toes where I had beome trapped, and she wasn't done with me.



 



Far above me I heard my immense mother laugh, “I told you, Mike, your athletic body would feel velvety soft to me. It does. I like it.”



 



Her enormous toes parted and I was stuck, face up, right in the middle of the gently flattened egg shape of the monstrous big toe's pad. I was completely devastated. She smiled at me, her face was held as low as she could, the enormous blue eyes twinkled cheerfully as they looked me over.



 



"How do you like this venue? I think that the bottom of my big toe is a bit more spacious than that little dive's stage to you now."



 



An index finger unfolded and lowered down next to me. My panic-inducing parent idly stroked the tip of her fingernail across the sticky, glittering grooves of her toe print.



 



"Just think, Mikey, you don't have to worry about getting cold at all despite being naked on this stage. It's so nice and warm, isn't it? It's not slick at all, just nice and rubbery."



 



A beautiful finger lowered onto me as my mother smiled. She slowly crushed the air out of my pitiful lungs. I cried out hoarsely as my breath was forced from me. I was trapped between two unmerciful expanses of terrible flesh as my tiny contorted face was inadvertantly shielded by the underside of her fingernail. The digit lifted and softly trapped each tiny twitching limb, feeling each of them before it retreated.



 



"Well, those sure are some nice muscles, Mike. You should be proud, I know it took a lot of work to get that big."



 



She bit her lip as she slowly arched the toe I was glued to.



 



"There is more to you than just nice muscles, isn't there, Mikey? You've got a new talent, don't you, sweetie? Something you've been hiding from me. I want to know what you've been doing at college. It's my right, isn't it? Shouldn't I expect something for all that tuition money I forked out on your behalf?"



 



She was smiling as her index finger did an excellent imitation of a backhoe's arm. Her fingertip's nail pressed downwards into the bulging expanse of toe flesh before gently scooping between my sticky body and her sizzling toe print. I was torn free and tumbled limply across the dense hill of her upturned big toe.

 

 

 

"You had better hold on there, little bug. This stage is too small. Mommy thinks you deserve something a bit bigger for your debut."

 

 

 

I managed to roll over and cling to the sticky ridges of the bulging toe flesh I lay upon. The immense foot shifted all around me as my mother adjusted it, resting it sole upwards and level against her folded thigh.

 

 

 

"There we go! Why, that's an absolutely huge stage, isn't it, Mikey? Nothing but the best for my son, the stripper."

 

 

 

The pad of the big toe beneath me hardened as it scrunched upwards, taking me with it. I was entirely overwhelmed by an index finger and thumb. The hot flesh collided with me and became inescapable walls as they closed. My tiny, fragile bones protested as I was plucked from my mother's toe. A moment later I found myself gently laid in the middle of the colossal sole.

 

 

 

Directly above me my mother's upper body towered, heavily foreshortened by my own pitiful field of view. From within the ocean of swaying, silvery blonde hair the distant, beautiful face was smug and satisfied.

 

 

 

"It's too bad that I didn't prepare music for you, Mikey. You're just going to have to wing it, I'm afraid."

 

 

 

Behind me the frightening toes spread wide before rubbing together. The flesh beneath me shifted as the tremendous tendons and musculature drove the huge extremities. I was tossed to and fro limply and she was smiling ghoulishly at the sight of me. A beautiful hand detached itself from her thigh and sped through the air. I was engulfed in it's shadow and the index finger unfolded. I was prodded by the long red nail expectantly.

 

 

 

"Dance," she whispered with a hiss, her blue eyes positively glowing with an evil mirth.

 

 

 

I rolled over and gathered my limbs beneath me. It was hard to see through my own tears. The index fingertip hovered in front of me, upturned. I used the underside of her fingernail to steady myself on my elbows as I fought to get my exhausted legs to hold my weight. As I dragged myself upwards with my mother's effortless assistance I wondered how large a contact lens made for her would be to me. The bowl of a birdbath? No, too small. Perhaps one of those institutional-sized woks one occasionally sees in the behind-the-scenes footage of a thriving Chinese restaurant? That would be about the size and definitely the right shape. I could lay entirely on the end of this pretty digit and perhaps I could awkwardly curl into one of those enormous and almost outlandish cooking implements. I felt sick at the thought of either of those things.

 

 

 

"That's it, Mikey, fight through that pain. You don't need to be in top form. Just dance for mommy. Just a little bit. I think I deserve a private show, don't you? I want to see you work that nice little body."

 

 

 

I was up on my own two feet and the enormous finger pulled away from me tentatively before folding upwards to join it's well hydrated sisters above me. I stood there sobbing, just a little thing perched precariously amongst the graceful curves of my cruel mother's high arched foot. Beneath me, through the dense skin throbbed her awe-inspiring pulse which I could feel through the soles of my tiny feet. I blinked back tears as the huge being lowered even further in a tensed flex of her spine.

 

 

"I said to dance, Mikey," she was grinning and her hot breath rustled through my hair as it surrounded me. I could smell and even taste the inside of my mother's cavernous mouth, "or would you rather spend more time in between my pretty toes? I like squeezing you in there. Mmm."

 

 

 

As I began to weakly shuffle her face lit up cheerfully. My sloppy dancing's movement actually helped ease my aching body. As the beautiful colossus suppressed her giggling she fished one of her hands into a cramped shorts pocket. She slowly coaxed something that had been stored on her hip, careful to move slowly enough as to not pitch me to my death on the carpet not so far below.

 

 

 

"I just remembered, maybe mommy does have some music for you, Mikey! Very appropriate music too! Let me just-"

 

 

 

My all-powerful parent ignored me for a moment as she worked the controls on her monolithic phone. Then she sighed with satisfaction as she tapped it. There was a loud, distorted sound blaring from the black rectangle which hovered in front of her face. It was music, some terrible recording of mindless, beat driven techno. I synced myself with the beat and as I listened it dawned on me; I knew this, there were the distorted chants from a crowd. This had happened a mere two weeks ago. This had been recorded when I was up on stage at the strip club. I drew in a shaky breath and my chin dimpled with a frustrated, stomach spasming heartsickness.

 

 

 

"Look at that! You look so proud of yourself, Mikey! Do you want to see?"

 

 

 

The gigantic slab of phone plummeted from her distant face and hovered next to the ball of her foot. There I was, grinning and pumping. The footage was grainy and was filmed above a sea of chaotic silhouettes, shaky footage from a phone thrust above the heads of the crowd. I dropped to my knees and wept as my captor angled the phone so that she too could view it.

 

 

 

"I was shocked when I first saw this footage, truth be told. But then I realized that I liked looking at you like this! You looked good at such a tiny size. But Mikey, the footage is just so grainy! I could barely recognize you! And there are certain… parts... of you that I couldn't really see at all!"

 

 

 

Her index finger tapped it's nail against the screen right over my anomaly-rich doppelgänger. The footage became paused with her touch. She ran her fingernail possessively over the blurry form.

 

 

 

"There is that little face. Aww. But, what's right here? See, I just can't tell. It could be anything, really. But, now I've got the genuine article. There is more to you than just some nice muscles, isn't there, Mikey? There is teeny-tiny bit more to that nice little body, right? More for me to examine? It's just a hunch, I know. But I swear there's a tiny shadow in the video that hasn't been accounted for thus far."

 





My smirking mother pinched me gently between her fingertips and I rocketed upwards just beyond the towering badlands formation of her body. The enormous features of her beautiful face rolled downwards, past me. I was raised to directly in front of her blue eyes. The impossibly huge index finger and thumb which held me in a pinch adjusted slightly. The pressure of the bulging ridged walls of her finger pads changed and I thought my tiny torso might burst for a moment as my tiny back was forcibly arched. My tiny head was almost enclosed, almost trapped in the hot vice of the enormous pinch. I screamed as I struggled uselessly, but my mother's iron flesh had deeply mired my tiny limbs in her grip's crevices. Her mouth twitched into a little smile for a moment as she heard my cries of pain. She held aloft her phone for a moment and referenced it, checking between the paused footage and I.

 

 

 

"Hmm. Tiny little face, those precious feet on the ends of those fragile little legs. But there's that shadow again. What is that? What exactly were you sharing with those women that you aren't sharing with your own mother? Hmm?" She put her phone down onto the carpet, freeing up her hand.

 

 

 

The index finger of her other hand tentatively hovered closer to me. Her flawless fingernail slid between my tiny legs and push them apart. I kicked and struggled but I was unable to gather full breaths in her grip. I tired quickly.



 



"Aww. It's okay! I won't crush you, I promise. Oh, are you being shy? Where is it, Mikey?"



 



My impossibly huge mother chuckled under her breath as my tiny hard cock was exposed by another adjustment of the pinching fingertips. The adjustment tightened the vast walls of ridged skin against my tiny torso. Now almost I could not breathe. I was slowly tilted and turned in front of her eyes as she studied me. The colossal blue eyes were glittering mischievously as they focused on what stuck out proudly from between my legs.



 



"Oh, I think I see it! There it is! Aww, it's just so precious!"



 



The long red fingernail of her free index finger ran across the underside of my penis. The five foot diameter fingertip hung there, holding still just beyond my tiny body. My penis bobbed and slapped uselessly against the tip of her fingernail as she lifted it. I watched as the vast wall of that intimately familiar face hovering just beyond my naked helpless form shifted into a playful smirk, studying my tiny cock.



 



"I should have known! It was your teeny, tiny penis, wasn't it? Well, it's really too bad that you didn't get to use this little thing more while you were out in the world away from me. I don't think I'll have much use for it. It's such a shame, too. Hmm. To you I have miles of skin, don't I? You know, Mikey, I might let you touch me with that tiny thing if you could find a spot! You know, for when you grow desperate. As long as you ask me nicely, of course. I'm not going to just let some rude little bug crawl around on me. Maybe there's a place where that whole tiny body of yours wouldn't get trapped? I'm not sure, but maybe mommy has a crevice small enough for it? Maybe you could find a tiny crease? I don't know, how about on one of mommy's knuckles? Oh, you probably wouldn't like that, would you? There has got to be other places you can stick that teeny-tiny thing, don't you think?"



 



The beautiful fingertip batted my manhood around like a toy. Just beyond this triviality my mother's brobdingnagian face which eclipsed my view of anything else at all was still smiling. This was too much for me to bear and I began sobbing.



 



"It is very… cute. Isn't it? It's just… so tiny! This is so much better than just having that grainy footage to look over. Aww! I just cannot resist it! I wonder... Hmm. Hold still, Mikey."



 



My mother's mighty thumb joined the index finger which was humiliating me as she grinned widely. The colossal pinching digits came very close to me. She squinted and held her breath in concentration. I began shrieking as the opposing tips of her huge nails tentatively approached my crotch from several different angles, trying to find the perfect path. "Hold still, Mikey," she whispered, "there now, good boy." I was overwhelmed by the immense red nails and the smooth, thick edges of them pressed coldly against my belly and chest repeatedly. It was as if my mother was trying to capture a little bit of defiant thread poking out of a seam in her clothing. Hot breath streamed over me from her Brobdingnagian nose and she narrowed her eyes. "Ah! There it is! If I can just…" I whimpered as her flawless nails finally closed with a cautious slowness around my infinitesimal cock.



 



The incredible living wall of my mother's face grinned as she took in the sight, exposing perfect teeth the size of my torso. I was weakly screaming and struggling as the cold, hard tips of her colossal red nails daintily held fast my tiny captured manhood. I blinked stupidly in a shocked daze, lightheaded from my futile efforts while unable to take full breaths. I was truly just a bug to her. Just an indulgence for this vast being's trivial pleasure, with no dignity or say in my own fate.



 



"Aww. Just look at that tiny thing! Though, I suppose Mikey… I guess proportionally… Hmm. I suppose it's quite big." Her huge face came in even closer, until I was confronted by a single blue eye and the side of her nose just beyond my contorted and trapped form. The tremendous shiny globe flitted back and forth, I could hear the great bulk of it sliding across the wet surfaces of her inner eyelids with a muted slither. The surreal, iridescent blue musculature of the iris expanded as the black well of pupil focused on my vulnerable privates that she held with near-infinite delicacy. She whispered conspiratorially to me, "it's really very big, isn't it? Not like your sonofabitch father and his... well, he was entirely an underwhelming prick." The vast eyelids surrounding my mother's alarming eye crinkled in mirth and the glistening wall of flesh confronting me shook slightly as she fought to contain a giggle. "But not you, you're hung like a horse! Otherwise I wouldn't be able to catch your teeny-tiny cock between my fingernails at all."



 



My very real and visceral fear of castration caused me to plead with her, "please don't hurt me! Oh God, no! Please stop!” My pleading ended in frightened cries as I unwisely sought to thrash against the unrelenting and gigantic cushions of flesh clamped against my painfully twisted form. All I managed to accomplish was a grotesque, faltering pumping of my trapped penis into the red lacquered crack. The black disk of my mother's pupil precisely slid and centered on me. She was watching me, fascinated.

 

 

 

I was bawling. I had finally realized that I was in hell. My impossible transformation had been unmerciful to my body and mind, even withering my spirit. But my own mother had become grotesquely changed as well. I had fallen into a reality ruled by an impossibly huge and alien monster that could not be stopped nor reasoned with. I was the plaything of a being which derived boundless joy from dominating and probing my conquered, helpless body.

 

 

 

"Aww. Now I see why you were so popular at that club! I wonder, how many of those women fantasized about this, do you think? It's such a thick, muscular cock, isn't it, Mikey? It's huge! Well, maybe not to me, I guess. It's like a teeny-tiny splinter. Maybe more like a grain of rice, hmm? I know you won't like this, but I might even go as far as to describe your cock as pretty. Don't feel bad about that though, you're just so tiny now. Oh, Mikey! There is no need to be embarrassed about this! You will never see any of those women ever again. The only woman you'll ever have to please from now on is me, and I like this little toy. I'm sorry, I guess the word "toy" is a bit non-specific, hmm? I'm talking about your teeny tiny cock, not you, Mikey."

 

 

 

My mother's vast eye squinted and she held her breath once again. She ever so delicately ran the thick edges of her nail tips up and down the very short length of my captured organ. I weakly groaned in adrenaline punctuated horror as the Ferrari-red surfaces repeatedly pressed lightly into my thighs and face, caressing between my legs. Nothing that I could visibly discern separated my fondling from my castration.

 

 

 

I just knew, I could see my own wounding unfold in my panicking mind with a vicious clarity. I knew that those beautiful, mighty digits would pull away from my waist with a bit of my own bleeding flesh clenched limply between the perfect fingernails. My tiny severed cock. Like a blood spot fished out of an egg yolk. Like a smashed gnat. Like something limp and pale pried out from between my mother's vast teeth. Like a pimple's discharge which would stick wetly to her nail as she would bring it up to one vast blue eye to examine it.

 

 

 

I came in my panic. My seed sprayed out of my lightly clenched organ. Despite her close proximity I was not sure if she realized what I had accidentally done. My cum might as well have been microscopic to her. She giggled deafeningly and with a final monstrous caress her fingernails finally relented.



 



I was pulled back away from my mother's alarming eye until I could see her entire face once again. She ran the nail of her littlest finger gently across the end of my tiny cock as she wistfully touched the tip of her tongue to her top front teeth. The dregs of my cum left a tiny wet trail, even more lustrous than her glossy red polish. I felt like I was being molested by a surfboard.



 



My skyscraper sized mother withdrew her little finger and I watched as she examined her well manicured digits, turning them in the light. Her eyes studied the tiny droplets on the tips of her fingers. I was appraised with a smirk shot down the towering height of her foreshortened face. I was bawling, exhausted and completely limp, softly and slowly smothering like a bug between her massive thumb and forefinger which would not relent. She looked me over for a moment, twisting her hand back and forth. Then my mother gently touched my face with the pad of her index finger. She deliberately smeared my own cum across my face, changing the angle and changing digits to mop away all she could see. It mingled with my tears.



 



"I'm sure there are a lot of women who would pay good money to touch your body. I feel very lucky, honored in fact. I think you have a nice body, Mike. Especially now that it's so tiny and soft."



 



My cruel mother grinned ferociously. The dense pads of her colossal thumb and index finger tips softly pivoted around me and I was swallowed by them completely. I whimpered weakly up at the smiling face as the ridged, unyielding flesh closed around me from both sides. I was instantly compressed, locked in a terrible position. As the breath was forced from me and my bones creaked I hoarsely wailed. I was nearly crushed, unable to take a breath, unable to move. I was left drooling and shaking in a tomb composed of my own mother's flesh.



 



"Is it all right to say that? Is that wrong, because I'm your mother? So what? Your mine now. I like how you feel, so nice and delicate. Well, I think it's time I put you back down onto your little stage. After all, you're a professional entertainer, Mikey." My pitiless mother delicately laid me back onto the sticky pad of her immense upturned big toe. She was grinning at me and slowly wiggled her digit. "I think you're stuck to my toe, Mikey? Yes, you definitely are. It must be all that cum from that pretty little cock. Hmm."

 

 

 

The endless leg extended, tremors rumbling through her flesh as it staightened out. It came to lay parallel to my mother's other mighty limb on the carpet in front of her. My view from where I lay limply adhered to her toe was incredible, her legs stretched off into the distance to where they joined her hips. Above the unreal hips, my mother's upper body was like some natural rock tower rising into the distant sky.

 

 

 

The yacht-sized foot slowly rotated on it's heel until my mother's toes were pointed upward. Her other immense foot towered close by and my eyes traced over it's impressive size and beauty. Rock climbers upon her tanned, soft skin would not have been out of place at all.

 

 

 

In the far-off distance my mother silently appraised me for a few moments. "I had certainly hoped that you might have amounted to something with all that college tuition I was paying. I suppose a lot of young people might have considered you to be a spoiled rich kid, with your mother paying your way and all. Is that why you've failed? Were you indulged too much?" The mighty big toe flexed slowly as I lay helplessly adhered to the bulging side of it. "This is all I get for my investment in you? Really? Just a tiny piece of human lint stuck to the side of my toe?"

 

 

 

I was bawling as my colossal mother shifted her gorgeous feet. She deftly wiped my tiny, exhausted body to the plump, ridged flesh her big toe's twin sister. I cried out and convulsed in pain from the dexterous interplay of crush and collision from those impossible digits on my helpless form. There was nothing I could physically do for the moment, my mother's torturous play had completely exhausted me.

 

 

 

"Hmm. Well, I suppose I should try and be a gracious mother. I should support this endeavor of yours, without much criticism for the time being. Maybe I should try and look at it from your point of view? Perhaps you're on to something? Maybe you're a maverick? Is it lucrative to be a tiny, naked bug?" I blinked back tears as the blonde titaness slowly flexed her mighty toes, apparently modeling for herself the big toe I lay plastered against. "Well, you haven't even made fifty dollars at it in an afternoon. What do you think, Mikey? Does that sound about right? I suppose I should withhold judgment and just indulge you a bit more, to be fair. After all, this is what you've wanted for so long."

 

 

 

With a smug look the two humongous big toes came close to one another again. I was delicately smeared across her other big toe's nail. The air was withheld from my lungs as my trailing, flimsy limbs squealed with a pasty friction, dragged behind my torso across the glossy red expanse. Once I had become stuck, the panic-inducing toepad pulled away from me. It abandoned my tiny, gasping form on the vertical convex curve of her red polished toenail.

 

 

 

Strands of saliva messily danced, tangling from my lips and chin as I fought to catch my breath. I was slowly gliding wetly down the great red expanse of my mother's vertical toenail. I stayed as still as I could while my arms were slowly pulled upwards from my tiny body while my legs were simultaneously folded beneath me. The instep of my mother's foot fell away beneath me as a tall, veined precipice of flesh that eventually became her tanned, massive ankle far below.

 

 

 

My face felt at first hot, then unnaturally cool, a side effect of being repeatedly bodily squeezed, I wagered. Perhaps this momentrary respite had allowed my blood flow to regain it's normal equilibruim? The mighty big toe I lay plastered against slowly waggled and in the distance the beautiful, coldy amused face smiled.

 

 

 

"Hmm. Maybe, eventually, you'll win me over to your point of view. I have to admit, there is something very appealing about having my irresponsible son stuck like a bit of wet tissue to my toenail. But, just to be sure I think I'll play with you for a little while, Mikey."

 

 

 

My mother made a leisurely game of it, transferring my miniscule naked body from one big toe to the other, occasionally sealing both of the mighty digits together against me as I silently begged for her to stop. The entire time she played with me one of her hands was slowly caressing the tight fabric between her legs. She continued her toe play for at least ten minutes, punishing and mocking my tiny exhausted and naked body with her monumental big toes. Eventually, I was inadvertantly ensnared by one of her long second toes. Though the circumference of this toe was immense, it paled in comparison to her big toes, which were simply vast surfaces I could only cling to. I desperately took the opportunity to attempt to safeguard myself a bit from my dominating, gigantic captor.

 

 

 

With trembling, worn out muscles I wrapped my limbs around the great pillar of hot flesh. I slowly dragged myself upward as my mother giggled, occasionally gasping in surprise as her massive second toe suppressed a twitch. In the distance she had a strange look on her face of almost pain. She was visibly sweating and biting her lower lip, spending long moments with her eyes tightly closed. With some revulsion I knew that this wasn't just a disciplined reaction against my slowly climbing, tickling form. There was an escalating arousal there as well.

 

 

 

I was completely spent as I reached the wide pad of her toe. I collapsed there, a tiny, delicate toy splayed on the end of a feminine toe's tip. As I lay panting, covered in sweat, the distant carpeted horizon was dominated with that unreal view: a colossal, athletic, flaxen haired woman who grimaced as she stroked slowly between her legs.

 

 

 

I rolled to my belly and reached as wide as I could with my arms and legs across the plump, humid sculpture of flesh, hugging it against my entire tiny, naked body. I squeezed my limbs with all my strength. I felt my stomach muscles protest against their cruel exploitation. The domineering titaness cooed and the frightening big toe flexed away before crashing against my feminine pedestal. I pushed, scraping and violently kneading against the huge, sticky ridges with the palms of my hands. I was desperate to keep my mother's attention as I squeezed my widely clasped legs against the toe's dense swells. I growled under my breath as I grimaced at her distant, panic-inducing face.

 

 

 

"Just leave... me here... isn't this... nice? No need... to squish... me... no... need to... play with... me... with you're... fucking toes. No need... Just let... me... be safe... you scary... fucking gigantic..."

 

 

 

"Oh, Mikey! Mmm. I really like that!"

 

 

 

Tremors shot through me, rattling me violently as her leg began to move. The awe-inspiring shin and knee rose upwards as the foot I was perched stickily upon slid closer to her hips on her vast heel. One beautiful hand flew past the golden tower of her shin as her fingers rearranged themselves into a loosely held, upturned mock peace sign.

 

 

 

The looming, flushed face grinned as the upturned index finger and middle finger slid past each side of the toe I lay upon, capturing and stabilizing her second toe between them. "You've figured out your proper place in the world, haven't you, Mikey? I think that sometimes young people just need a little nudge in the proper direction when they become lost or confused. You're going to be a lovely toe toy for your mother. Don't worry, I'll always be here to help. To give you a nudge. Always."

 

 

 

My mother smiled as her colossal thumb unfolded from the heel of her hand and reared over my relatively small perch. I moaned as the thumbpad lowered, pressing me into the firm, hot flesh of her second toe's bulky tip. It gently stroked across my exhausted, sore body. I sobbed and cried as my unfortunate body was repeatedly pressed against her toe and slammed against the edge of it's toenail as her thumb and fingers gently kneaded.

 

 

 

Finally my cruel mother gracefully retrieved me from her toe with a careful pinch of her musky smelling fingertips and laid me on the carpet. I was devastated, and lay there gasping, worn out by the slow torture session.



 



I was prodded by an enormous fingernail as she pulled her legs in close to sit next to me cross-legged. Some of my own cum transferred from the thick, keratin tip of her nail and moistened a spot on my arm.



 



"I have to go get cleaned up and retrieve some things. You just stay there and rest. If you try to get away there will be consequences."



 



The ground shook and quaked as my mother unfolded and stood up. I watched her enormous feet thunder away out of the room. I rolled over onto my side and looked around. The coffee table and couch were too far away. The little office trashcan was even further. The only thing I could see that could serve as a hiding spot was a crack in the wainscoting. I rolled over onto my stomach and tried to get my arms and legs beneath me. I was still panting and everything hurt. As I waited on my body to rally I tried to wipe the smelly stickiness from my face. I could hear and feel her footsteps. A growing sense of panic filled me as the thunderous reports grew louder. I cursed under my breath as I realized that she would be back before I could attempt my escape. I had been pushed too far physically.



 



Tears of frustration came to my eyes as my mother's enormous form came into view. I realized she was carrying things, before the terror of her impossible form overwhelmed my rational thought. By the time the beautiful crushing, punishing feet gracefully drew near I was crying out, begging her not to do the obvious: to step on me.



 



An enormous box, the size of a proud neoclassical bank headquarters lowered out of the sky. There was a tremor as it touched down. I felt I should know what this was, but the sheer size of it made it strangely unfamiliar. As my captor lowered and folded herself into a sit I realized what it was. My father's lure making box, what he had used to create fly fishing lures. A pair of my mother's sandals were set down next to it. They had been some of her favorite ones from when I was a child, she had not worn them in years now.



 



"I want to go out, Mikey. But it would be no fun to leave you here. So I think I'll make my own version of a child restraint. Maybe bug restraint would be more accurate for you."



 



Her laughter deafened me. I was gently folded and compressed in upon myself between her thumb and index finger in a pinch. She laid me back down right in front of the toes of her left foot, underneath her arched big toe. Before I could do more than roll over the big toe had lowered, capturing and pinning me to the carpet beneath it. Only my head was free.



 



"There. All nice and snug underneath of me. You just rest there, unless, of course, you want to earn some more money with that little tongue of yours. I would like that, you know."



 



Above me she worked. She punched several holes through the thick leather of one of the sandals. The warmth from her toe pad coursed through me and I was soon groggy, despite my predicament.



 



"Mikey! Mikey!" She sang my name.



 



I coughed and opened my eyes. I had drifted off into sleep. I winced and yelped as I took in the tip of her toe bowing out above my tiny trapped face. Beyond the long toenail my mother was smiling down at me.



 



"You didn't lick or kiss me at all! I go to the trouble of doing all of this work for you. Sometimes I think you don't appreciate me. Well, that's going to change. I am a large part of your life, you know."



 



The toe above me moved, fattening as it drove the air from my lungs. I cried out raggedly as my bones protested to her tiny movement. Her distant face lowered and her smile grew as she blew me a kiss.



 



I was lifted along with the toe. She peeled me from it and placed me into one of her palms.



 



"I'm all finished! It probably doesn't look like much to you, but I am quite proud of this. It's time to try it out. Just a trial run. But I think it will work. If it doesn't you're going to know it. Because it wouldn't take much at all to ruin those little twigs you call arms and legs."



 



She stood as she held me and gathered up some of the things from the floor. Soon I found myself at the kitchen table. She lowered me over the sole of one of the old sandals. I could immediately see what she had done. She had poked six holes into the dark, greasy stain where her big toe always rested. Thin threads, the diameter of municipal power lines to me, had been fed through the holes, it was quite elaborate, really. She had spent quite a bit of time getting it right. She meant to strap me spread-eagled to the sole.



 



"Goodness, you're shaking! I like it when you do that! I think that would be, oh, maybe one dollar. Yeah, it's worth a dollar to feel you trembling between my fingers. You are quite the entertainer. Only thirty-five dollars more to go. You are amazing, you know that? You're just being yourself and the money comes rolling in! You are so lucky to have found your calling in life!"



 



I was herded across the sole of the sandal by an elegant fingertip as my skyscraper-sized mother smirked down at me from overhead.



 



"Right there. Good boy! Now, lay down your back. Scoot to the left. Very good!"



 



Her face grew as she leaned forwards, completely filling up half of my possible view. She picked up tweezers and lowered them over me.



 



"There is no need to fret. I'll be careful! But, I might have a little bit more incentive if you would have put that itty-bitty mouth of yours to work. Oh well, live and learn."



 



It took quite a while for her to secure my limbs. If I moved too much she would pinch the tweezers together in front of my face as she admonished me. Soon I was strapped down, arms and legs pulled away from me at an angle, a cable-like thread belt cinched down around my waist. She had tied or somehow secured my restraints across the tread of the sandal. A colossal, beautiful manicured hand grasped my yacht-sized platform and I found myself flying through the air. I hovered in front of her face as she grinned.



 



"Okay! This looks really good, Mikey! Now, let mommy see if everything is spaced correctly. If you feel some pressure, cry out, okay?"



 



Her other hand collided with the sandal and an enormous thumb slammed down right next to my tiny form. She flexed the sandal slowly between her hands, testing to see the extent of my safety.



 



She nodded approvingly after a while.



 



"Yes, I should be able to walk with you there. Let's try it out, shall we?"



 



I felt a rush of giddiness as I sped downwards, past the entirety of my mother's huge form. A moment later the sandal and I lay on the floor in front of her feet. She giggled as she flexed her enormous pretty toes. In the sky above me one long tanned leg moved across the sky, bisecting it and lowered. She bent over at the waist as she slipped the sandal on to her foot.



 



"Oh, I used to wear these all the time. I loved these sandals! They are too dirty and worn out now. Well, Mikey, it's your turn"



 



The sky past my legs was filled with her other foot. It lowered and grew much larger as it came on. Then it was working it's way through the immense leather strapping, her tremendous toes wiggling as she inched on my sandal. Her hands came down and helped ease my prison into place. I was crying as her toes wiggled over me. Then they lowered and I was smashed heavily underneath the pad of her big toe.



 



"Mikey, I hope it's all right so far, I'm going to walk around now. Mommy will be careful."



 



I was pressed almost to unconsciousness beneath her vast toe as she stood. Then I was hurtling upwards as I accelerated forward, my bonds keeping me safely in place against the grease-varnished toe-print. Touchdown was a violent and deafening experience, I had the air driven from my tiny form and my vision blurred from the tremors which were generated just beneath me on the other side of my mother's sandal. Before I could recover I was sealed in completely beneath her ridged, dense flesh before rocketing back into the sky again.



 



Ten steps later she stopped and I could see that she had bent down, peering at my tiny trapped head which peeked out from beneath the front of her big toe.

You must login (register) to review.