From the sound of stilted, energetic keystrokes on a low-travel Macbook Pro keyboard, Loren was evidently working on a laptop far above Brett. He remembered how she had once groused about that particular laptop, with her old-school clicky tastes clashing with modern thin profile butterfly keyboards, but she found no recourse with the ThinkPad either, being an agitator against Lenovo at least since the Superfish debacle in 2015.

Brett hungrily wolfed down his opinionated CS teacher's foot crud, making room for it in spite of the tasty dinner he'd already eaten. Effortlessly she held her foot slightly aloft, as though her foot was in "service mode" and Brett was the technician and expected to scurry around the underside. Indeed, he was maneuvering underneath her sole in the dark, dank shoe with the grace of a skilled mechanic rolling around on a creeper. He'd had some experience at this point with the other teachers, and had managed to overcome initial hesitance and enjoy himself for the most part, but he felt a special attraction to this particular woman, which made the musky taste and swampy smell in her shoe somehow even more appetizing. Loren was fidgety in general, but in her desire to show self-discipline, she acknowledged the feeling of his tongue on her foot with only the faintest of giggles, and no particular movements.

He texted her finally, starting to feel like he was no longer noticed.
"Check the weather channel, I want to know what the humidity is down here."
He heard an audible grunt as she seemed startled by the tone on her phone. After an unlock sound, he heard a little groan and then some tapping.
"Very funny Brett. I take it you are not lodging any serious complaints about your present setting?"
He decided to take the bait. She seemed to have worked herself into a bad mood again. "What are you working on, Loren?"
With no vocalization from above, he heard the unmistakable sound of a reply tapped back with the methodical speed of a woodpecker. Loren was evidently a very skilled texter in spite of her long, candy-colored nails. A moment later, he then read it on his wrist device.
"I'm grading and it's depressing, Brett. A lot of these kids really tried to slack off the last few weeks. I have very little sympathy for seniors who try to skate through as though I should respect their 'seniority.' They will have a tough time in college. Sometimes I wonder why I bother with these kids. Your friend Marco is one lazy dude even though he's a junior like you. Makes me wonder about the company you keep."
Seeing it appear line by line, Brett almost recoiled physically from the vitriol in those words. In one moment, it felt again like he'd lost the favor of his future benefactress and would likely be used as a punching bag until she calmed down. She continued.
"Hopefully you do a better job when you're in my class. I want to see a student do a better final project than he did in the first third of the class for a regular assignment, k? Surely that isn't too much to ask?"
He swallowed and wondered if she actually expected an answer. An arrogant sigh above and more tapping.
"Brett, I don't know if you are just so enamored with being surrounded by my gorgeous foot that you can't take your attention away from it, but by your relative lack of movement I would say that is unlikely. Cat got your tongue?"
Brett started to send a reply on his wrist device. It did take him a bit longer with the tiny screen, and he tried not to cave like a wimp to misdirected anger.
"Loren, it is a little scary when you start to rant. Do you actually like teaching? Why do you do it if it makes you so angry?"
Her response was furiously typed out above. By the sound of it, she'd set down her phone and was now using a laptop app to send the text to the wrist device. Maybe a new piece of software she was working on?
"To find the diamond in the rough, Brett. The kids who really have no limits, who are in need of society not failing them at the critical moment of development. Who became good kids in spite of the world's agonies. It doesn't happen very often, but every so often you encounter a bona fide nucleus of brilliance in your class and it makes the whole year worthwhile. Anyway. I think it's time to grow you back."
The comfortable and stable reclining position she'd held him in was suddenly overturned. He felt himself sliding forward, then back. She was finagling the shoe off her foot, and then removing the sock underneath. Brett was unceremoniously deposited onto the cold hardwood floor.
She unshrunk him gradually, as before, and then inspected his handiwork but not touching her own feet, leaving bits of fluff and small rivulets of sweat unperturbed. Brett remained sitting on the floor in front of her, slightly disoriented, but looked up at her creamy soles and tanned legs warily of what she was thinking.

"Not a bad job Brett. You missed a few spots though. You'll help me with those, won't you Brett? Say ahhhh."
Brett opened his mouth, partly in astonishment and partly following her orders. He could guess what she was about to do, and it was far more overt in flirtatious energy than any of the prior teachers had dared. Gracefully, Loren lifted her leg, flexed her foot, and placed the first three toes of her foot in his mouth and wriggled on top of his tongue. She tilted her head off to one side, leaving him unable to read her expression. As she looked away, he saw her drop her hair down from the tie it was previously in, letting the multicolored mass fall against her shoulders dramatically. He felt the scratchy texture of her toenails rubbing against the roof of his mouth, the sandy texture of her sole's skin, the remaining salty residue in every crevice, and sucked it obediently. As he did, he looked along her deployed leg to make eye contact with her. He couldn't tell if she was ashamed of his eagerness and amaze-repulsed by the situation, or seriously thought that crude dominance was the essence of sexual charisma. Either case could be true with her pridefulness and poor people skills. Either case would led him to a staunchly different appraisal of the likability and trustworthiness of his charge. Of course she'd ordered him about when he was shrunken, but that felt somehow different.

An audible pop sounded as she removed her foot from the boy's mouth, breaking the slobbery seal of his lips. He instinctively swallowed the foot-tinged saliva in his mouth, and got off the floor with no further instructions, unwilling to let the uncertain situation fester.
"There, that's better. Thank you Brett. You've done a bang-up job on my feet." She beamed with the first bit of positivity he'd heard in a while. It seemed basically sincere, but there was a barb hidden as her face slid slowly into a neutral, robotic expression as she looked over to her laptop again. He could see it was no longer projects she was grading.

"Brett, I want to ask you - why did you just suck on my toes?"
Brett just had to laugh. He was starting to get annoyed at all the awkward situations she was creating for him. "I don't know why you want to know, as it wasn't important to you when you asked me to do it."
"You weren't shrunk anymore. You had a choice. There wasn't even the pretense of doing this stupid training thing."
Oh, that did it. A switch flicked in Brett's mind. He went on the offensive, refusing to admit his undying attraction to her.
"I don't get why you think it's stupid if you're doing it with me. We could both sign the paper and say we did it without doing it. You don't have to make shit up. And you are so damn full of yourself. Don't flatter yourself by suggesting I'd come in your goddamn shoe. Who does that anyway?"

There was a flash of fury in his teacher's eyes, which ignited with the immediacy and energy of thermite. He felt exposed, like he'd just seen a flamethrower squad in the distance approaching his pillbox. But he just stood his ground. Feelings were getting hurt on both sides. It was time to stop this childishness.
She stood up, eyes widening, and stormed to his position. She stood just six inches from his face. She put her hands on his face, and leaned in. He could smell a fruity perfume, and some of her hair fell across his shoulder, which smelled like a different fruit with only the slight odor of sweat. It felt like a dream.
She licked his cheek and paused with her mouth almost embedded in his ear.
"You'd rather come in my mouth, wouldn't you? I look forward to it." she growled in his ear animalistically.
This time she shrunk him in a big hurry, not bothering to use the gradual settings she'd previously done. He was plucked off the ground with all the force of being lifted by a Saturn V rocket to the moon.
Then he felt another escalation as she ripped away his leotard, finding the weak link in the back section and splitting it with two unimaginably strong giantess fingers. He was now naked in her palm.

She glared as though appraising him judgingly, then gave the slightest perceptible wink, and threw his body into her mouth with a moan.

It was a very slightly minty mouth, as she'd evidently had a stick of gum after dinner. But underneath it the scent and flavor was pungent. It was a mixture of both fresh saliva and an earlier crust of hardened, mucus-y spit clinging to the back of her mouth from her rapid-pace sweating in the garage.
Her tongue was softer and more malleable than that of previous mouths. He felt himself cradled by it, pressed on all sides. Unlike Mrs. Gomez's thick muscular tongue, this thinner, lither tongue of Ms. Issakinen's could actually completely wrap around him, and was still strong enough to dominate his body. He was the filling of a tongue burrito this time, totally surrounded by the wall of wet flesh, which probed and tasted him. But there was an added violence to the tasting, as though she enjoyed squeezing and pressuring him and feeling him flail and punch around as he couldn't breathe. Thankfully he was a good swimmer and experienced in holding his breath, or these moments would have induced him to panic.
Finally she settled into a brutally efficient mastication procedure where he was positioned on top of her tongue and was pressed against the roof of her mouth. She rhythmically sucked him and churned and agitated the saliva to circulate the fluid around her mouth and cause greater flow over Brett, while ratcheting up the pressure she put on him as she sucked. It felt like his teacher's mouth was a giant washing machine and vacuum cleaner in one. She mixed in a gradual, inexorable drop towards the back of her throat until he felt himself at an angle and his feet were practically able to kick her tonsils.
He knew that she could feel if he had an erection in her mouth, given that he had no clothing layers anymore, but he was far too scared to be aroused. Sometimes the pressure was so strong that the air was forced out of his lungs and he'd emerge coughing and gagging for air while swimming in deposited spit. The real possibiltiies of drowning in his teacher's mouth, or falling to his death down her throat, was producing overwhelming fear that overrode such feelings.

It started to feel like she was just sucking the life out of him. He couldn't find comfort or purchase, nor even a regular supply of airflow.
But adapt he would have to, as the minutes dragged by. He swore he would tell her everything afterward. This was going too far.

He could feel more movement as she went off to her bathroom and started running the shower. He barely got a few moments of daylight at all as Loren kept her lips mostly sealed, so she knew there would be nothing for him to see as she stripped off her dirty workout clothes.

---

The pressure faded as he felt Loren's anger melt away. Her tongue became a tender, soft mattress that no longer brutalized him. Her saliva production was reduced to normal levels. And the involuntary movements in her mouth were muted. He was removed straight into a cloth towel and cleaned up, then placed on her bed.

Whooooooooooooooooosh. He felt himself unshrunk with some care this time. His body was naked under an expansive, slightly sheer blanket. He had seen a pattern of light from the ceiling above through a vast continental shelf of cotton, and the blanket was still big enough to cover his fully-regrown body. Pulling the blanket against his body to ensure he was not indecent, he noted how fine the material was. He felt like he was on silk sheets on a featherbed. Groping for the corners, Brett finally tore the blanket off his face, looked around and saw to his right Ms. Issakinen wearing a bathrobe, lounging to one side as though waiting for his gaze to meet hers.
She whispered to him, with unbroken eye contact and a slight smile, "Did you enjoy yourself?"
"No, Loren, I didn't! Listen to me."
She laid back, the smile vanishing and replaced with a look of panic and embarrassment. He saw her face redden and her eyes dart around like a cornered animal searching for an exit.
"You would not let me breathe. You wrapped me up in your tongue with no air. You kept nearly throwing me off the cliff down your gullet. I've done a little of this before but you were rough and careless and I felt like I was barely able to make it through that. You hurt-" his voice cracked on the last sentence as a tear fell from his right eye. "-hurt me."
"And I don't know if you really believe this is supposed to be fun but it isn't. This isn't sexy anymore when it hurts. And it hurts so much for YOU to do it as opposed to someone else who I don't care that much for. I've been in love with you ever since I first met you. I WANTED you to shrink me. I've always thought you were super hot. I love that you do so much cool stuff. I want to be a tech person like you. I want to be smart and accomplished and build stuff. I want to figure out who you are, and know why you are so hot and cold. Why you are so unknowable. But you make it hurt to figure you out!"

It barely registered to Brett that the other person in the bed with him was crying too. At least, until she grabbed him with both her arms.

"I'm sorry Brett. I'm so sorry." she said plaintively.
"I didn't know I was hurting you. I thought you wanted this. I thought you were eager for this feeling. I didn't want to hurt you, I never did!"
"You don't know what you're doing! You didn't ask me if I wanted this!" Brett sputtered while she hugged him.

The teacher sobbed quietly into Brett's shoulder. He said more quietly "Why didn't you care if you hurt me, Loren?"
"I swear I never did. I know how much you thought of me. I haven't been... with a man... since a while ago... Of all people I should know what consent is, but I failed to extract it properly Brett. I am sorry, this was cruel of me."

She continued in a bare whisper. "The truth is, I was raped when I was a little kid. It was my cousin, who was about your age at the time. I had always had communication deficits, particularly terrible in those days but he was a nice, handsome 18-year-old who claimed he just liked his little weird-girl cousin even though nobody else did. That last part may have been true at the time, as I found it really really hard to make friends. He was tender at first, but he soon became brutal and was always finding horrible things to do to me and then gaslighting me about what he had done. And my uncle protected him, Brett. He-" her voice fell lower "-he lied on my cousin's behalf and he continued to allow this to happen. My parents supported me when I was a smart little obedient quiet girl, but when I showed the intense anger in me they never tried to figure me out, they ostracized me, they didn't help and didn't believe me. They were smart adults and I was just a kid who couldn't prove stuff I said if they wanted to lie against me. So I learned. I tried to make myself smarter. I was ashamed and had nothing else to turn to but the primitive power of making myself better. I used technology to prove my testimony, to put my uncle and cousin in precise locations at precise times, to hack into their own communication with each other, to outsmart them and get my freedom. I wanted to get so good that I could be a prosecutor myself and make the case all by myself. I confided everything to one of my teachers, who helped me get justice. And I found that it wasn't really necessary to do everything that I'd done, to suffer as long as I had, to seek help. The court didn't need my detective work. My cousin and uncle went to prison without it. My parents tried to win me back but I didn't want to see them anymore. I was emancipated at age 15. My teacher had become my guardian and she took very good care of me. A good teacher can do so much, and I knew I wanted to be one when I grew up."
"But I was apparently really smart. Tests said so, anyway. And people told me to aim higher than teaching. Like rocket science and AI. So I did. I got research grants and really talented mentors. And when I was on Wall Street and Silicon Valley there were so many older men, bosses and directors and other assholes who wanted to keep me. To groom me, win me over, and fuck me. And there were nice men too, tall handsome men my own age, confident and charming men, mostly men who seemed to not want to take advantage of me, but whose touch I felt was repulsive just the same. None of them would I trust, even though I was attracted to some of them. Except for my rapes, I am a virgin."

Brett did not dare speak as she paused slightly. He was stunned, and had to hear everything she would tell him.

"...And then I thought of a man much smaller. A guy who not only wouldn't want to hurt me, who didn't have vast financial resources or manipulation skills, but was physically unable to hurt me even if all of his persona had been a lie. I thought of a shrinkee and hoped that I could... win him over, somehow, when it was foreordained that he could not overpower me in any way. Even though men in general love to overpower me and get very confounded when they find that I can be smart and powerful too."
Sighing, she added "It felt... liberating and empowering to have you as a shrinkee. It has been amazing to be excited by the touch of a young man. Not only were you tiny so you couldn't hurt me, you weren't cynical as so many of my suitors have been. You expected me to take care of you and that is what hurts most of all. I'm really sorry Brett. I really love that you let me shrink you and try to please you and I'm sorry that I was too hard, too rough, too cruel. I'm sorry I seem to be untrustworthy with the power to inflict punishments like this."

Brett was motionless. He felt the surge of energy in her arms as she held fast to him, squeezing him with the greatest of urgency. He had never been touched like this by anyone before.
"I don't blame you for wanting to leave now Brett. But if it means anything to you.... holding you here in my own home, in my own bed, in my arms, though you are now full size and probably weigh more than me, I should be frightened or repulsed, but I am not. I feel safe. I never thought it would be the case in this situation, but it is the truth."
Speaking more quickly, as though she sensed the conflict within him, she continued: "And I meant it earlier, I have always wanted you to be happy with me, to be happy with your time with me. So I invited you to enjoy yourself. To come on my foot. Or to come in my mouth. There is no shame to it when you're freely invited to do so. I gave you consent and I meant it, although if parts of my body really turned you on that much when shrunk, I might have dreaded unshrinking you and dealing with the after-effects of this experiment, when you were back to normal size, if I felt you would take unfair advantage. Still, you didn't seem like that, so I continued. I just had to figure out for myself what this would be like."

"Loren." Brett finally spoke.
"Yes Brett?" she looked at him with eyes flickering in the low light, the traces of tears still present. She wiped them away with the back of her hand.
"You should have let out that emotion so much sooner. You should have been honest with me. You should have asked me things and let this develop more naturally."
Ms. Issakinen nodded penitently.
And then Brett added "But I don't want to leave. I like being with you. And sometimes I like being shrunk by you."
She looked down. "Are you really serious Brett?"
"Hundred percent."
A slight smile started to spread on Loren's face. "You're an amazing young man, Brett. I wish I weren't too old to be your girlfriend."
Brett scoffed with the sureness that it was a joke, and emphatically stumbled and stuttered his way to a retort. "You-you're not. No wayyyyy. You, you... look like the college girl I want to be dating once I'm outta here."
Loren returned the scoff with a little eye roll and reply that betrayed her own insecurity. "Well, you probably wouldn't want to date me for other reasons too. You don't know all of the real me yet."
"To tell the truth, I don't know what will happen between us, Brett. I hadn't expected to feel this way. But now that I am, and now that I know how you feel, I want to ask of you one more thing."
Brett looked into her eyes expectantly.
"Can I shrink you again, for our mutual pleasure, if I promise to be gentle and we agree exactly what I'm going to do with you?"
Brett replied yes, his fear diminishing in proportion to hers. Had they met in the middle? His heart was pounding as he saw what she did next.
"Well, Brett..." she said, taking his hand in hers and placing it on one of her ample breasts. Loren then pulled his pliant, wavering hand down across her chest, across her waist, and shyly laid it to rest atop her crotch.
"...I want to put you in my pussy and give us both a little ride. I want you to be the first man inside me whom I've ever voluntarily let in. I'm going to keep you big enough that you need not worry. And I want you to push the button on your wrist and alert me if I start to hurt you. Will you go there with me?" she asked with a tinge of both nervousness and playfulness.

So much had just been learned, with so many questions lingering. He now felt a surprisingly great bond with her, a great protective instinct for her weaknesses based on her past, and he forgave her transgression with finality. Was this experience transformative to her too, or would she be compelled to hurt him every so often just to get pleasure? Was he starting a relationship with her? If so, could theirs be a healthy relationship?

But all those feelings were for the future Brett to ponder. For now he couldn't think of anything he wanted more. He responded affirmatively, with the haste of unequalled anticipation. It was the first thing akin to real, honest intimacy that had ever happened to him.