“Okay, that’s enough of that,” Mrs. Brooks said, setting down her dumbbell. The woman was panting slightly, her body sparkling in the ambient light.

“Yeah, good call,” Claire said.

“What?” Bree answered, almost shocked. “You two are done already?”

Mrs. Brooks smiled. “I’m not as young as-”

Claire cut her off with a, “Yeah! Done with the pre workout at least.”

Bree nodded. There it was.

Claire bounced off of the bench. “How about some squats?”

“You just want your ass to look nice for Tanner,” Bree said.

“Well duh,” the girl replied. “I mean, he is an ass guy. I think.”

“I’m always up for squats,” Mrs. Brooks said, standing, stretching a bit. “And after, we can go for a little jog. You ladies up for that?”

Down below a tiny little bug couldn’t help but feel a pang of horror pass through him. Adam didn’t think jogging was going to be good for his health. But what he thought didn’t really matter in this world. Mrs. Brooks, his goddess, was going to do what she wanted, and there was nothing his feeble little existence could do to stop it.

A few minutes later, Mrs. Brooks stepped on the treadmill, her rubber sole compressing as she put her weight onto the machine. With well-practiced finger movements the older woman typed in her settings and pressed start. The belt started to turn, and she began to walk.

It started off light, the woman walking at a brisk pace that allowed her to keep up her chat with the other two titans. Even this was nearly unbearable for her stowaway though. A single step caused her foot to lift into the air, only to plummet down a second later. Adam’s stomach churned and protested as it was forced into his insides, slammed down into his body with her footstep. His fingers dug into the coarse fabric of her shoe lace, his eyes shut firm against the pain, wanting nothing more than for this rollercoaster to stop.

It felt almost like an amusement park ride. The sudden jolts, the feeling of complete powerlessness as the machine spun you around and around, lifted you high in the air and then sent you rocketing down. The same familiar feel of that initial drop, the same sense of fear as the earth came rushing towards you. But this was more. It was faster, the jerks were more sudden and with far, far less warning. He wasn’t being guided around a track, he was violently torn from one place and thrown into another, only to be spiked back down. His speedy descents were not met with a gentle slope back to the horizontal, they ended with a crushing stop only made survivable by the cushioned fabric of the lip of her shoe.

And it happened again. And again. And again. And again.

As the torture continued Adam could think of nothing but Mrs. Brooks. She must look so happy… he knew how much she enjoyed her workouts. She’d be running along the treadmill, probably talking with her friends, laughing, enjoying the cool air in her lounges and the power of her well maintained body. Sweat glistening off her soft skin, her breasts slightly giggling with each step despite her sports bra. Each step would press her butt against the tight yoga pants she wore, nearly exposing the faint line of the underwear she had underneath, and the perfect shape of her rear end. Her feet would be moving rhythmically, up and down, up and down, compressing on the mat of the treadmill as she flexed her legs.

And he would be inside that shoe, holding on for dear life, nearly crying against the pain.

And then she would start running.   

…

…

…

Everything started to fade in from black. Adam sat up, rubbing his head gently as he blinked against the harsh light. He saw the towering pillars of some object he knew had once been reasonably sized, now gargantuan and far away.

For a moment he thought everything had gone back to normal, that he had finally woken up from his nightmare. But no. This was still real. He was still shrunken. And he was… Adam looked down at the rough floor he sat on, with deep indents in some random texture. It almost looked like rubber.

He pushed himself to his feet when he felt that all too familiar feeling in the ground behind him. When the boy turned back he saw a Titaness walking towards him, her body glistening, her bare feet stomping with abandon as she stepped onto the slightly elevated plane Adam was on. Mrs. Brooks look just as horrifying, just as unspeakably beautiful, as she always did.

The giantess reached forward, her breasts briefly eclipsing the harsh gym lights for a moment as she leaned over him, pressing a few buttons on the machine. A low click reverberated through the ground, and suddenly Adam felt himself moving.

His eyes widened as he understood what was happening. He was on a treadmill, and Mrs. Brooks was going for a run.

“No, no, no!” he repeated in a helpless shout, sprinting away from the Titaness, knowing full well what was to come. He watched in horror as the giant’s body moved steadily towards the back of the machine before she lazily lifted one foot into the air. One bare, glistening, shaped and toned foot, the sweat still adhered to its sides, her toes rounded and plump, her nails manicured to perfection with a clear coat of nail polish to make them sparkle.

For a moment the horrifying object lifted high enough for Adam to see the underside. Slightly red, speckled with lint and dirt that she had so absentmindedly trampled during her workout, the insignificant pieces glued to her flesh by the mere surface tension of her sweat.

With a violent quake she slammed her foot down, her first step, her first movement towards the bug on the ground.

“Mrs. Brooks!” Adam shouted, fear almost taking hold of him as he forced his little legs to move forward. He sprinted with everything he had, forgetting about the time he spent clutching at her shoe, at the pounding in his head, at the sharp pain that came every time he breathed. That didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, except escaping from the giantess’ sweaty foot.

She continued to step forward, a leisurely pace for her, perhaps even the lowest setting on the machine, yet a blistering pace for her captive. Adam sprinted, his heart sinking with every step the goddess took, every reverberation of the impact, growing continuously louder.

“Please, I’m down here!” he begged as her foot slammed down only a few inches behind him. He looked forward again, a faint glimmer ahead catching his eye. He ran silently, trying to make sense of the small spot on the treadmill coming towards him. It was only when it was too late to run out of the way that he realized what it was.

Adam’s bare foot landed in the small droplet of Mrs. Brooks’ sweat, catching momentarily. Desperately he tried to rip his leg out from the droplet, the surface tension sticking him hard until he finally popped out. With a small plopping sound the boy came free, quickly losing his balance, stumbling a step before falling face first into the grimy musk that was the rest of the giantess’ sweaty foot print.

“No, not like this!” he shouted, almost crying as he tried to push himself up, strands of the goddess’ sweat holding him tight and forcing him to stay stuck to the treadmill. As he breathed the scent of her sweat filled his lounges. As he screamed again and again the taste of the liquid filled his mouth.

Until a shadow came over him.

He had only a moment to realize his life was about to end before Mrs. Brooks’ meaty sole crashed down, his body wedged between the balls of her foot. And then the pressure came, gradual at first, almost manageable thanks to the flexible nature of her foot flesh as it contorted around his body, then painful, then unimaginable, then finally fatal.

A slight crunch, and blackness consumed him.

Steam enveloped the boy as he regained consciousness. The smell soon followed, a deep penetrating stench that seemed to be emanating from the very fabric he was entombed in.

In a frantic fit Adam tried to escape from the tight bonds of cloth that he had dug himself into, flailing as he remembered Mrs. Brooks’ foot coming down on him, as he remembered the smell of her sole, the feel of sweat coating his entire body and sticking him hard to her flesh, of his bones popping, of his complete domination.

He pushed her laces away enough to fall out from the lip of her shoe, tumbling a few inches before catching himself again. His breathing was hard and ragged, he was covered in a cold sweat that left him terrified and vulnerable.

But he wasn’t crushed. Still alive, still tiny, Adam found himself sitting stationary on the top of Mrs. Brooks sneaker.

“Fuck,” he cursed, ripping his head around to familiarize himself with the environment. The impacts had been enough to knock him unconscious, and the continued assault, and the smell, and the heat radiating off her foot, must have made him dream that horrible nightmare.

When he looked into the world he saw the familiar haze of objects so massive and far away that he wasn’t able to identify them. Structures that rose into an endless sealing, metal by the look of them, formed the walls. The floor was hard tile, speckled. The ceiling was muddy, but he could make out a few bright lights spaced periodically in the relatively narrow area.

But more than that, he could see three figures moving close by. Three titans, three goddesses that were still unaware of his presence, that still couldn’t care less about his life or how it ended.

Mrs. Brooks stepped closer, her sock clad feet falling to either side of the sneaker. Adam looked up, finding his vision blocked by the stylish, delicate fabric of her white panties. Her legs looked so shapely as they disappeared into the thin garment, the outline of her body fully exposed and barely contained.

She moved slightly as she reached into the gym locker, grabbing a change of clothes, the white glints of illumination sparkling and changing as her sweat soaked body shifted, as the tons of bone and muscle gently jostled above him.

It was a sight too powerful for Adam to resist. This entire day he had been beaten and bruised, nearly trampled by these god like beings of sex and power. Forced to smell the pheromones produced by their skin, forced to look at their gorgeous bodies. He couldn’t contain himself any longer.

Adam leaned back against the shoe, a deep breath reminding him of the scent of Mrs. Brooks’ feet, now a constant in his life, as one hand drifted down his stomach, finally coming to a rest inside his pants. His fingers wrapped around his dick, gripping tightly onto the already hard organ.

He didn’t let his mind wander, for he didn’t need to. The most sexual scene he could think of was happening directly above him. His boss, his perfect, powerful, godly boss, was standing right above him. Only a few moves and she could crush him. A single step and he would be smothered by her foot. Even her pinky toe would be enough to crush him. And if not that, she could just suffocate him inside her toe jam.  

He continued to stroke his cock, breathing steadily, already approaching completion from the sheer ecstasy of the moment. Mrs. Brooks continued to pull out her clothes, chatting with the other two girls in the room, laughing slightly, her breasts giggling high above. He could see her bra as well; the material matching that of her panties. It looked soft to the touch, something he would love to climb, to loose himself in completely. To be crushed by those absolute mountains would be his dream.

On the brink of orgasm, Adam started to lick his lips, staring up at her butt, at her waist, at her entire body. He could barely hold himself any longer, but he wanted to. Wanted this moment to last forever. His goddess above him, nude, sweaty, powerful, and him small and pathetic at her feet.

Then, in a single movement, Mrs. Brooks crouched down to pick up a loose article of clothing from the floor, her waist dropping, her vagina coming within a few inches of her shoe. To Adam, it was like the moon had fallen, so close that he could almost touch it, so overwhelming that there was nothing he could do to stop.

Adam came, speechless, starring at the nearly transparent fabric that separated him from the pussy of a god.