Don’t get me wrong. I love money. I also love female feet. I love female shoes and their smell and their shape and their textures, even their taste. Judging me and telling me about it by either trying to make me feel weird, or odd, or abnormal is, considering the gold mine I sit on, the express way to end up fearing me. I am a confident man. Some say over-confident, perhaps, but not foolish. And people who stand in my way end up 6 feet under. Only about that, you can judge me. I’ll tell you more about that, no worries.

I live my dream life. Why would I let anyone screw it?

I was somehow proud and happy about my job with Rebecca. She had made a lot of progress, her mother told me the other day that  her daughter is more happy in general, and less prompt to give up. She was becoming more social, more fun, more confident. You see, when you’re on my side: I am a helpful man, compassionate and selfless. I like helping these women. And I do sometimes make special discounts or favors to my oldest customers.

On my lunchtime, while preparing the lab and cleaning it for my next client, my cellphone vibrated. Text message. From Laura.

Laura: Hey. Press conference in 30min, stressed out. help?

You have to know Laura. She’s so funny. Laura is a great woman. She works as a spokesperson for a relatively interestingly sized international corporation. I met her she was single and shy. Today she’s married and can’t stop talking all the time. She’s good at it, made it her job. And as a spokesperson, she’s always moving around on a non-stop schedule. I am glad I helped her unlock her true potential in life when she needed it.

Now about that text message. Since we know each other for so long, that text message, I got like 50 of those over the years. Fact is, when Laura has to give a press conference she gets nervous. She’s in front of many people, mostly journalists and all those people literally try to squeeze her like a lemon for any piece of information that she has not told them. I admire their dedication even if I hate the nature of their job. To each their own. When you know how Laura is always on stressful job assignments, you know she has the powerful strength of easily managing stress. But when she texts me, it means she really needs help.

Me: Where?

Laura: City hall

Me: I’ll be there in 20min.

What wouldn’t I do for Laura? Anyway, I made sure the lab would be ready and I sprinted to my room to put on a pair of jeans and t-shirt over my lycra suit. Socks, boots, backpack, and ran down the stairs and to the garage, grabbing my helmet on my way there. I hopped on my Ducati and skipped a few red lights.

While driving there I couldn’t help but enjoy the relative but joyful pleasure of being alone in that bike helmet while speeding between cars on the freeway. I thought about Laura. Secretly I wished she would be wearing her black leather high heel pumps with silky black nylon thigh highs and her business suit, ponytail and cigarette. I quickly parked and ran to the backdoor of the city hall, knowing she would wait there for me.

When she saw me I could feel the look of relief even before we could exchange our first greetings.

“Good, Thanks. I owe you.” She said. She took a last deep drag of her cigarette and crushed it under the black leather high heel pumps that I secretly wished she would wear. I got a little butterfly in my stomach. Laura saw me looking. “Don’t get too excited.” She smirked and chuckled. Laura knows me.  “Come on, let’s go.” Laura walked inside the city hall and I followed. I noticed she did wear her black nylons but she got skirt and turtleneck, with a very long necklace. Nice earrings, bloody red lipstick and light makeup, brunette ponytail. Too bad for business suit. I shrugged, quite happy to help my friend.

She brought me in a secluded room. I removed my pants and t-shirt, revealing my lycra suit. Some of my customers call it my superhero suit. It’s just all black but clearly shows my body features. I just hate being naked.

“Thanks again. Shouldn’t last more than 1 hour.” She said.

“I have another appointment this afternoon, don’t go over an hour.” I answered back. She nodded and looked tensed. Since it takes one minute to shrink to 1 inch tall it takes slightly more to reach half an inch. That’s Laura’s preferred size. 1 minute 15 seconds is enough time for Laura to almost forget I was there and read her notes and try to memorize them for the press conference.  When I woke up, finally shrunk, I was already facing Laura’s pump’s opening. The shoe was on its side, already warm and humid, sending a powerful odor to my already teased nostrils. Laura’s feet smell good, good and powerful. I just hopped in the shoe. The 3 and a half inches heel did the rest as Laura ceremoniously tilted the shoe back upright with her foot. I slipped down the heel slope and reached the bottom of the shoe’s leather insole. Fractions of seconds later Laura was inserting her huge black nylon covered foot over me and inside her work shoes. Laura enjoys to pin me under the ball of her foot, right in the middle and before her toes. I was soon to be pressed under the part of her foot which absorbs most of her weight in high heels. Speaking of those heels, they must be quite old already, maybe a few years of everyday use.

There, that’s my dream life. Spend lunchtime giving confidence to my old stressed friend Laura while she’s out there standing behind the microphone to deliver an important message to journalists. Sometimes even live on important TV channels.

Laura was already walking on me, pressing her full weight on my tiny body at each step. Her foot was sweating. Laura likes when I lick, therefore I lick. Helping Laura like this for just an hour on lunchtime is something I always welcome. Laura doesn’t need me for her self-confidence on a daily basis or more deep therapy. She just needs me to be available in times of condensed stress moments or crisis. I knew she had not slept a single minute the last night, too stressed for the event. I licked her foot the best I could when my face was not just crushed in the wrinkles of her warm and humid skin. The nylon mesh is quite spaced out when you’re that small.

The movements stopped and I could feel steady intense weight on my body. She reached the  microphone and the muffled sounds of a busy room started to fade. Laura started talking to the medias, maybe 50 journalists and some invited people. I could hear her reading her text above me, confident, knowing I am under her foot. When Laura wears me, I always feel like a 12 volt battery plugged under her sole, sending her steady direct confidence current.

I just closed my eyes and endured the pressure. Irony got me and I realized that when I am full size, I look at women’s feet and imagine myself in their shoes, and how crushed and owned I would be, mercilessly crushed under those sexy legs, sexy body, sexy feet. When I am inside, I can’t help but imagine how, seen from the outside, nobody would ever suspect that the beautiful international corporation spokesperson would have a tiny half inch man crushed under her foot, inside those sexy pumps, breathing and licking the aromas of her foot while she gives a press conference. I love that irony.

So yeah, it’s easy to become philosophical and thoughtful when the sexy muffled voice of the incredibly beautiful woman torturing you come in and reach your ears like soothing music while you experience the excruciating pain of her weight crushing down on you. Speaking of irony, I couldn’t help to think at that precise moment, that my life’s greatest pleasures are humiliation related, just like my life’s greatest nightmares. How happy I am when humiliated at the feet of women, and how angry I am when that happiness is exposed and humiliates me publically. Life’s challenges.

My head started to spin. Laura’s speech was over she was answering journalists questions. Come on Laura, you can do it.

Finally, Laura walked again. That mean she was exiting the conference room and walked away to find lone time to rest and free me. I absolutely love how that woman walks. Her sure steps in those high heels are impressive. The muscles of her feet and legs working in unison all over me. That feeling when she steps down and crushes me heavily, her whole gigantic body shifting weight on me until it’s all over it, ready to lift suddenly for the next step. And again. Twice per second, maybe, hard to tell. She walked with such confidence. Really, I was doing her a favor and loved every second of it. Times goes fast when you’re having fun. Even painful fun.  

When done, she removed her foot from me, I almost stuck to it but managed to tumble on the shoe’s insole. Fresh cool air came in, and I realized we were back in the room where I shrank myself.

“Whew!” Laura kicked her shoe gently so it would tilt and fall on its side. She prefers not touching me at all with anything but her feet. For all the years I have known her, she would always have me walk in and out of her shoe by myself, never picking me up with her fingers. I walked out and got my shrink ray device. Shot myself with it, and grew back up. Laura looked at me and smiled, putting her shoe back on. She smiled.  “Thank you, you don’t know how much you saved my life again.” She said. “I am in a hurry, bill works as usual?”

“Yeah.” I chuckled. “I should charge you double rate for that.” Laura rolled her eyes and started to walk away. “I’m kidding, go, I’ll find my way out.” Laura thanked me again and left to join her coworkers and the mayor and the CEO and everyone else. All I could hear is the harmonic sound of her heels clicking on the floor and fading away.  Another satisfied customer.