One could say that....as soon as Tim was born, he was condemned to live his life under women’s feet. A tough predicament, a hard curse and a cruel punishment for the simple crime of being born. The poor boy simply had to live with it.
It all began with his first baby sitter Sarah. A teenage girl in the neighborhood who was hired by Tim’s mother to babysit the kids. Tim and his older sister Claire were born only 3 years apart and when Tim was still a baby, Sarah came into his life. At first, Sarah would babysit the kids only for short periods of time. Usually, she would wait for the parents to leave, then remove her sneakers or whatever footwear she had, and place them in Tim’s crib, near his face or on it. The baby would immediately stop crying. Then Sarah would play with little Claire. When the baby got a bit older, from time to time Sarah would just put the baby on the floor by the couch on a small blanket and rest her socked feet on the baby’s face, rubbing her footwear all over it. Again, the baby would stop crying.
As the kids grew older, Sarah became the babysitter by excellence, she was caretaking, available, always there for emergencies and the kids loved her. As soon as the parents would leave, Sarah would plan games where Tim would eventually end up under her feet, or with his face buried inside her sneaker or shoes or boots, or with the toddler licking her shoes or stuff like that. She would sometimes put her socks in the kid’s mouth, or make him smell her feet and rubbing them on his face while she and Claire would watch cartoons. They would also often play outside, games that always ended up with Tim either licking Sarah’s shoes or being stood on full weight by Claire, often on his face while Sarah would help for balance. Sarah started trampling the boy only when he got older and more tough. Everything happened and never did the parents knew about anything that occurred with the kid’s babysitter Sarah.
At night, when it was time to go to bed, Sarah would always tell stories to the kids to help them go to sleep. Her favorite story was the one where Tim would be shrunk and placed inside her shoes to smell her feet. Tim would always laugh at that and Sarah would then playfully remove her shoes and place them on Tim’s nose for him to smell, until he would eventually fall asleep with Sarah’s shoes acting as teddy bears.
Sarah was a soccer player, and sometimes, she would come babysit the kids right after soccer practice or soccer game. During those times, Tim’s face would be constantly assaulted by Sarah’s feet and socks and soccer cleats. The Babysitter had her personal cleat cleaning little boy who would lick all the mud off them and then smell inside as she would rub the back of his head and press it down in them with her sweaty feet.
The influence Sarah had over the kids became quite important as Claire, growing up, would adopt the same behavior with her little brother. Not a single day went by without Claire playing games with her brother that wouldn’t end up with him either being trampled, or serving as a footstool for his sister, often ending up with her resting her cute socked feet over her brother’s face or making him lick or smell inside her sneakers.
As soon as Tim reached age 4, Sarah started to make her bedtime stories true. When she was called for babysitting, she would come over, wait for the parents to leave, and then use a Shrinking device to shrink the little boy to a mere half and inch tall and toss him inside whatever shoes she was wearing. She would then taunt him and Claire would chime in. “Have fun in my shoe Tim!” “I hope you don’t choke in the smell!” “Make sure you stay under my toes!” “Why don’t you give me a massage while you’re in there!” “Don’t forget my kisses!” Claire would also taunt her brother. “Be nice Timmy, cause you’re going in my shoes next!” and of course after a few hours, Sarah would place Tim inside Claire’s shoes as well, so she could wear her little brother inside her shoes for the rest of the evening. Then before parents got back, Sarah would grow back Tim to his normal size.
Tim never truly developed a foot fetish, he remained neutral. He didn’t actually dislike the smell, nor the humiliation, but he never really got excited by it. For him, it was part of his life like any other thing. Sadly for the kids, the parents divorced, and Emma, their mother, decided to keep the house and their father left for another city across country. That moment was really hard, poor Tim missed playing with his father. He wanted to play soccer and his mom just said “Sarah plays soccer, Timmy, she will teach you!” Of course, Sarah did show him how soccer is played, but from inside her soccer cleats, almost drowning in her foot sweat and suffocated by sock lints. She enjoyed having him in there while playing soccer, especially inside her soccer socks under her foot or under her toes.
At age 7, Timmy had been under his sister and babysitter’s feet so many times he started to become reluctant when Sarah, now 17 years old, would come over and shrink him. He would complain more and his long hours inside his babysitter’s shoes often ended up in screams and cries. The poor boy became socially troubled, often alone at school, hardly making friends, having trouble to concentrate at school bad grades and bad behavior. His mother Emma tried hard to understand what was happening, and she felt really bad as she did not seem to get what was going on.
At some point, she started to inquire more, investigate. She would watch her son’s behavior. She realised that Claire was dominating her son without effort. She started to interrupt their games and would often find out what was going on between them. She caught them in middle of the action several times. Claire would either be standing on her brother’s face or rubbing her feet over his face and making him eat her socks or lick her shoes. Emma spied on her kids to understand what was going on and found out Tim wasn’t really trying to resist her sister, he would complain a little then obey. Emma consulted friends and read books, and documentation and found out that maybe her son had a foot fetish.
Emma started to question her son. “Tim, do you like it when Claire stands on your face?” “Do you like the smell of her feet?” “Why do you lick her shoes when she asks you to do it?” some candid questions dropped here and there during conversations. Tim would always shrug and look down, avoiding the question.
Emma got confused and worried to the point one day she decided to take action and get the answers. She confronted her son when she got back from work and asked him to crawl to her feet kiss her boots and lick them. Tim just obeyed and did what he was told. While she looked at her son licking her boots, Emma had tears welling up her eyes and couldn’t believe it. She did not stop the interaction and even ordered her own son to turn on his back so she could lift her foot up and let him lick the sole of her boots. In her head, Emma could only think about how she failed as a mother, how her son was deranged and felt responsible and guilty. She looked down at her own son who was licking her boots, and wished he was never born, she wished she had never met his father and never conceived such a little deranged kid. At some point, under a visible nervous breakdown and sheer emotional contradiction inside her, Emma ended up repeating to herself “this is not my son, this is not my son, this is not my son.” She placed her booted foot on her son’s neck and stood up, not even looking down. She cried, as she could feel her son choking and squirming under her foot. She even lowered her other foot’s high heel inside his mouth to stop hearing his choking sounds.
But then, Claire and Sarah appeared in the room and froze in place, seeing Emma standing on poor Timmy. Emma, surprised, realising what she was doing, stepped off her son and breathed heavily. She looked down at the boy, who was clearly recovering heavily. Both Sarah and Claire grinned and smiled. Unlike what Emma thought would happen, the girls actually approved of this and started to show her how it’s done by standing on the poor boy too, one after the other, or both at the same time. “See mom, when you jump on his belly, his eyes go big!” “Look, when you step on his face, you have to place your feet like this, it’s more stable.” They were having fun showing the shocked mother the ropes of how to torture the boy with their feet. Emma sat down, visibly shaken in the recliner and Sarah and Claire forced Tim to sit down in front of it. The boy removed his mother’s shoes and started to smell her nyloned feet and rub his face under them. Emma could not believe what was happening, how her own son was a deranged kid, and how shameful she felt.
Emma was left with no solution, she felt like life had won over her, that she could not live another second without being in shame of her own son. She wanted him to leave and go live with his father. She looked at the kid actually smelling her tired feet and she felt disgusted. Her own son! A freak! Hatred grew up inside the woman. And then, Sarah said “Would you like me to shrink him? You’ll see, it’s a lot of fun. He can lick the insides of your high heels you know?”
“Please don’t shrink me again” said Tim, as he was reluctant to that sort of treatment.
Inside Emma’s confused mind, everything went really fast and she made 1+1. Yes of course, the shrinking devices.
“Shrink him.” She said on a stern tone. Sarah happily got the small device from her pocket and shrunk Tim to half and inch size. Emma looked at the process both terrified and amazed and found that shrinking her own son for good could be the best solution. She would hide him with her and this would be how she would overcome her shame. Sarah picked up the tiny naked boy in her hands and handed him to Emma, who looked at her tiny son in the palm of her hand.
“Mom, put him inside your shoes, it’s fun!” said Claire to her mother. And without even talking to him, in the greatest indifference and starting to get a hold of herself and her emotions, Emma dropped her own son inside her worn work high heels and slipped her foot inside, trapping the boy inside, not caring.
This turning point in Emma’s life became normal over the next months. Tim never got to be normal size again from that specific day. Every day, Emma would wear the boy inside her shoes or boots to work, for long hours the kid would be trapped inside his mother shoes. Then, when coming back at home, she would give the boy to Claire, who would do the same and keep Tim inside her sneakers or shoes or boots for the rest of the night. She would wear him all the time, even to soccer, or other activities. Tim was rarely talked to, only picked up and dropped, and also walked on and crushed. Claire could bring her brother to school when she got older. Sarah would go to college and they barely saw her anymore. Tim became Claire’s toy and pet, and as she grew older she would always have him under her feet inside her footwear. And Tim spent the rest of his life buried inside either his mother or sister’s shoes, until Claire went out for college too. Tim was now almost 18 years old and stayed with his mother.
Emma never met any other man in her life. She kept her son inside her footwear for decades. Even when she got past the fifties, and then the sixties. Claire ultimately claimed him when Emma died at age 68. She recovered her brother from a pair of well worn boot and placed him inside her own. Tim was then given to Claire’s daughter and spent another 10 years inside his niece’s footwear.
One day, on Tim’s 50th birthday, Claire brought her brother to Sarah. The women had found each other on facebook and started to talk again. They concluded that since Sarah started all of this, that she should be the one to end it.
After spending a whole week inside Sarah’s shoes, his former babysitter who was now 60 years old, Tim died, crushed liked an ant, under Sarah’s shoe, as she crushed him, finally.