I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling feeling lonely, horny and guilty. Guilty because my fiancé was overseas for the next two or three months with the Peace Corps. Horny because she’d already been gone for three months. And guilty because today I had gotten aroused by a woman other than her… her mother. 

I was staying with her mother for several reasons. One, to keep her company as her husband had passed away only last year, and she was in an empty house for the first time since my fiancé had been born. Two, to save money, as my fiancé and I were both 21 and needed to save as much as possible to start our life together. Three, with the loss of her husband I took some time off work to help her do the things he used to do, like mow the lawn, do the dishes and do any little maintenance things I could handle. 

Earlier today, Katie, my soon-to-be mother-in-law, called me to the kitchen to help her with something. When I walked in I realized she needed my help to reach something in the top of the cabinets. The problem is that I wasn’t going to be able to help, since I was 5’8” and she was 5’11”. I asked her what I could do and she said “Well I originally called to see if you could reach that cup for me, but..” Katie turned around, her glasses sliding slightly down her face. She had a smooth, soft looking face, and she had large, pillowy breasts that had stayed with her after she lost some excess weight. Her waist tucked in just enough before blossoming back out to meet her wide, round hips. They gradually tapered into thick, firm thighs and continued slimming down to her ankles. And at the end of those strong but still feminine ankles was my second favorite pair of feet I’d ever seen. I have a foot fetish, which my fiancé knows about and enjoys with me, and I know a pair of pretty feet when I see them. Her soles were thick and powerful but there was a tenderness to them I admired, and prior to her husband passing she had always been sure to keep her feet immaculately pampered. Now they were still lovely, but the purple nail polish was a bit chipped and could have used a refresher. She continued “I forgot that I’m taller than you. Sean was..” she drifted off, thinking about her former husband who was a large man by any standard and probably reached these high things easily, which would also explain the lack of a step stool in the house. 

I was quick to offer my own solution, “Well I can just give you a boost then!” With that I dropped to one knee and put my hands on my thigh, palms up to make a surface for her to step onto. 

“Well..” she hesitated and I knew she was considering her doubts. Her husband had always made her feel small by comparison, but she was three inches taller and about 40 pounds heavier than me. We didn’t address it much directly but I know she didn’t want to be embarrassed if I struggled to support her. “Maybe I should boost you” she offered. 

I struck it down immediately, “I don’t know what I’m looking for or where to find it and you have longer arms so it would still be easier for you to boost me than the other way around. Come on up, I won’t let you fall!” I smiled up at her and patted my thigh in encouragement. She bit her lip, the way my fiancé did when she thought, before finally agreeing and lifting her foot to my thigh. Her heel pressed into me just above the knee and the ball of her foot settled into my open palms as her toes gripped the edge of my hands and lightly dig into my upper thigh. I glanced down and was reminded of one more small detail about her lovely feet. They were size 11, and covered almost 80 percent of my thigh. That thought was pushed from my mind as her hand grabbed the top of my head and I felt her weight begin to drive her foot down into my flesh. I felt her stomach brush my face as she rose until my face was roughly even with her thigh. She leaned into me slightly and I felt the minute changes in her foot as she made tiny adjustments to maintain her balance atop me. She leaned forward farther into me and her hand pushed down harder onto the top of my head, pressing my nose right up against the crotch of her jeans as she bent her other leg and stabilized herself by placing that knee on my opposite shoulder. I quivered with minuscule tremors trying to stay stable for her and did my best to show as little strain as possible, ignoring how hot it was that she was just using me so nonchalantly, like she owned me. I heard her say darn it and then she pushed down sharply on my head before descending back to the floor. 

“Thank you dear but I think it must be in the cabinets on the other side of the kitchen. Would you mind being a step stool one more time for me?” She stood in front of me, and I was still on my knees, staring at her feet, mesmerized by the power I had felt her use on me. Suddenly her toes wiggled in front of me and she said “Hello?” I snapped back to reality, “Oh, not at all!” and I immediately shuffled to where her finger was pointing. I had my hands on my thighs expectantly and looked up at her again. She stood across the kitchen, just looking at me curiously before seeming to dismiss it. Then she strode towards me and without second thought this time proceeded to step on my thigh and lift herself up. I was slightly less prepared for her suddenness this time and let out a tiny grunt. I felt her look down at me and she tilted my head back with her hand and asked “Are you okay?” My chin was right against the crotch seam of her jeans as I looked up at her concerned face peering at me from between her two lovely breasts. “Never better!” I breathed back to her quickly, and she paused only for a moment before resuming her search. Her other leg again rested knee on my shoulder and I just felt her strong body press onto mine, admiring the way she seemed to apply force to me like any common stool. Her hand came off my head and suddenly her knee pressed into my shoulder, she rose to the ball of her foot and she leaned even farther into me, pinning my face between her hips and the lower cabinets. I had turned my face to the side to avoid diving right into her crotch and now I was pinned, unable to hear, struggling to breath past her denim and feeling as the ball of her one foot pressed all the blood out of my hands pinned beneath it. I could only imagine how white my fingers were turning from the pressure. I heard a muffled yell, and suddenly the pressure decreased dramatically, my face was no longer trapped, and her heel sunk back into my thigh. I looked up at her to find her looking back down at me, triumphantly holding the bowl she had been searching for. “Thank you so much!” she spoke down to me with a smile, “You make a great stepladder!” She climbed off of me with a laugh and began throwing ingredients to be mixed into the bowl. “Anytime!” was all I managed to say back through a dazed smile before I sauntered back to the living room to wait for dinner. 

This was the first of two incidents that had greatly aroused me that night, the other coming with dinner. 

We sat down in front of the television to eat dinner, and I, being a very hungry young man, inhaled what I needed and finished almost before Katie had even started. She had just laughed and asked me if it was really that good, to which I responded “It was so good I need to figure out how to repay you!”

 We both laughed, and after a brief pause, she did speak up again. “Well,” she began, nervously crossing her feet, “My poor feet are sore from carrying me all day, and I haven’t had a good foot rub in a long time. Do you think you could indulge your chef?” 

She smiles at me and I saw her wiggling her toes in the corner of my eye. My mouth went dry and I filled, because there was nothing I wanted more at that moment to touch and smell and taste her feet after how riled up she had gotten me earlier, but I attempted to play it as smoothly as I could and responded “Only because you made the meal of a lifetime, I suppose you deserve a proper pampering.”

More smiles and then she mentioned there was a coconut foot lotion in her bathroom. When I returned with the lotion, she had her food on a TV tray in front of her and her legs kicked out beneath it, resting on a pillow. I plopped down next to her feet and began my duties, warming the lotion up between my hands before touching it to her foot. My palms explored the soles of her feet, thumbs pressing in to find her tension as I savored the touch of her skin. Her soles were tough, with just a hint of rough callous, but not horribly so and surprisingly smooth and supple in other spots. The scent of the coconut mixed with the slightly sweaty musk of her feet hit my nose and caused my face to flush with excitement. Every moment I touched her soles I felt my prick grow harder and I struggled to hide the tent propping up in my pants. My fingers dove between each of her toes as I yearned to lose myself in her foot. 

I did this so effectively that after pampering one foot and then the other, I looked up to find her watching me intently, meal done and set to the side. I smiled meekly up at her and said “I hope that service was adequate payment for such a fine meal.” She laughed and gently touched her toes to my chest as she spoke, “If that is the payment for my cooking, I need to make you three meals a day. That was the best hour of my day by a long shot.” 

I was shocked, not realizing I’d spent an hour at her feet, and even more so by how much she enjoyed it. When I told her I’d be happy to do that whenever she’d like, she told me I should expect to do it a lot. We both laughed and began watching the movie that was on tv. She asked me if I wanted to sit on the couch next to her, but I refused, saying I was already comfortable on the ground. I didn’t mention that I also was still attempting to hide my massive hard on from her sight. She didn’t really respond but did open her legs a bit and I ended up seated between them, her feet resting on the ground on either side of my hips. We watched the whole movie like this and when it finished she told me she was going to bed. I told her I was going to watch one episode of my favorite show and then do the same, and she only asked that I turn the lights off before I go to sleep before she stood up. Her right foot, however, was on top of my right hand, and she didn’t notice immediately as she rose to her full height over me and stretched her arms overhead. I felt the weight of her heel driving my knuckles into the ground and as she stretched she twisted ever so slightly back and forth. The pain was intense and I let out a small gasp which finally caused her to look down and jump off when she realized what had happened. 

“Oh my gosh! I am so sorry! I didn’t feel it!” 

She exclaimed, clearly worried about hurting me and sorry for not catching it earlier. I smiled weakly up at her, and not wanting her to feel bad, said “No worries! I can still move it and it’s not broken so a little soreness isn’t so bad.” 

She looked down at me with concerned eyes for a little bit longer and apologized again before saying “I don’t know why I didn’t feel it immediately!” She paused for a moment, and then smiled slightly and said “I guess I just got used to stepping on you after all your help today!” And she laughed happily. I laughed too, but the raw intensity of what she said made my erection throb again inside my pants.

“Well hopefully I don’t get stepped on too much for trying to be helpful” and she laughed again before walking off to her bedroom. 

I had sat on the floor of the living room with my throbbing cock and just breathed, hardly catching a word of my tv show before heading to bed myself. And now I lay here in bed, staring up at the ceiling, playing back every bit that happened today and struggling not to touch myself. I sighed, and for the first time in months, masturbated to thoughts of a woman that was not my fiancé. The last thing I remembered before drifting off to sleep was Katie looking down at me and saying “I just got used to stepping on you..”

I woke the next morning to the smell of bacon and coffee. With my eyes still closed, I savored the smell of a new day, and then I noticed that the blanket felt heavier on me than it had the night before. I tried to move it off of myself and struggled more than I felt was normal just to flip it off my legs. I finally opened my eyes and was shocked at how far away the ceiling fan seemed. I leaned up on my hands, disoriented, and looked around. Suddenly my bed seemed to be gigantic, as if I was swimming in an ocean of fabric. My brain couldn’t process what was going on and I stared at the blanket covering my legs, realizing it hahaha gone from a relatively thin bedcover to a sheet that was nearly as thick as my hand. I looked at myself and I appeared to be normal, but as soon as I looked back at the surrounding world everything seemed too big or too far. I heard a knock on the door and then Katie’s voice called out “Wake up sleepyhead, breakfast is ready and you promised to help me in the garden after!” I yelled back to her but I was sure there would be no way she could hear me. I stood up and began running to the foot of my bed, towards the door when I heard her call again “I hope you’re dressed because I need you awake to help me out today! I’m coming in!” And as the door flung open and I ran across the bed I was struck by two jarring realizations. I was naked, and she was coming in. My hands flew to my genitals as the door swung open and my brain couldn’t comprehend what I saw next. When she stepped through that door, she was massive. And I realized that somehow, some way, I had shrunk. And as she cut off mid sentence and made horrified eye contact with me, I realized that this was not a dream. This was real, she saw me, and I couldn’t have been more than 8 inches tall. 

Katie’s reaction was impressive. I had honestly expected a scream, because I screamed as soon as I saw her. She stood there and stared at me, open mouthed, for nearly an entire minute. When she finally snapped out of it I heard her mumble “Stop screaming” and my mouth closed immediately. She hesitantly stepped towards me and I froze like prey in the sights of a predator. 

“Joe?” Her voice delicately called out my name and it was shockingly loud to me. Not deafening, but I know she hadn’t spoken as loudly as I perceived it. I recovered just enough to nod my head slowly. She asked if I was okay and I told her that I didn’t know. Everything was big, I said, and she told me that I was just small, still wearing a look of astonishment on her face. She asked if she could pick me up and I nodded my head, but as soon as she lifted me in her hand I remembered that I was still naked. I desperately covered my crotch again and began yelling before she caught on, and I saw a tiny blush on her face before she said “I’m sorry! Um. Let me see if I can find something for you!” 

She set me back on the bed and hurriedly disappeared. As the reality set in that I had shrunk my mind raced, trying to figure out what to do. Suddenly my head was filled of visions of doctors running tests on me, and how difficult it would be to take my blood at this size and how they would run a thousand tests on me and probably still not figure out what was wrong and I might spend the rest of my life living like a lab rat in a cage somewhere. By the time Katie got back, my brain was certain that I couldn’t contact authorities or I’d never see the light of day again. Her hand stuck out and she placed a pair of combat shorts obviously made for a GI Joe action figure next to me before saying “They don’t come with underwear and I couldn’t find the shirt” I thanked her anyway and put the shorts on, but as I did that she said “We need to call 911” My scream must have barely caught her ear before she left the room because she turned back around to locate the source of the sound before her eyes found me and they raised in shock. 

“What’s wrong!?” She said and I confessed to her all of my fears about never seeing the light of day again. She sat quietly for a long time before finally asking me what I wanted to do. I sat quietly as well, before finally speaking up “Well.. right now I’m pretty hungry?” For the first time that morning we both let out a small laugh and she agreed that we should eat, before daintily picking me up and carrying me to the kitchen. She held me in her closed fist this time and I marveled at how powerful she was now, able to move what I imagined to be dozens of feet in single strides as her large hand covered the entire lower half of my body. “How tall am I?” I asked her. She responded “Well those shorts were from a 6 inch action figure, so probably in that neighborhood. But we can measure later.” 

“6 inches tall,” I thought to myself. “This will take a lot of getting used to.”

She fixed both of us plates and cut my bacon and pancakes into very small pieces. I stared at my food before attempting to lift the fork that was as tall as me. I don’t know why I bothered, as I could lift it but there was no way I was getting it near my mouth. I heard a chuckle behind me and I turned around with a glare just to catch Katie smiling before continuing to eat her own food. I watched the way her hand maneuvered the utensils, carving her food into manageable chunks she would then lift to and deposit into her mouth. As her large, plump lips opened, I caught a glimpse of some of the half chewed food still in her mouth as her tongue slipped out to collect the fresh offering from her fork. I was struck with a mix of envy of her ability to eat normally, fascination at the entire act of eating and.. another emotion I didn’t quite recognize. For a brief moment I almost felt.. jealous of the food in her mouth. I quickly dismissed that thought and turned back to my own plate, debating the best method of consumption. After far too much though, I let out a large sigh and climbed onto the plate, deciding to just rip pieces off with my hands and eat by the mouthful. I heard another chuckle that I ignored and I shoveled food into my face, pleased at how effective my savage method was. As I continued to eat, I was almost confused at how I was able to eat much more proportionally than I would have thought possible given my size, but I didn’t question it, as I was just satiating my hunger. I finished much of what was on my plate, still unable to match my appetite at full size, but convinced I had somehow just eaten twice my bodyweight. 

“Now what?” Her words cut through my comfortable silence and she laughed a little, saying, “I don’t think you’ll be helping me rip weeds up in the garden at that size!” I smiled and thought about it for a minute. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be alone at the time so I asked if I would be able to at least keep her company in the garden, maybe in a pocket, for the time being. 

“And for now, I’d like to wait before we do anything drastic. I don’t want to be stuck in a lab for the rest of my life, and maybe this.. condition, will fix itself eventually. Like maybe it will wear off. There’s no harm in waiting.” She thought for a moment and then agreed. She put me on the ground and then carried the plates to the kitchen. I slowly walked across the vast expanse of carpet as I listened to her heavy footfalls carry her into the kitchen, amazed at how the world seemed to tremble just slightly with her every step. The thunder got louder and louder and I realized she was coming back just in time to turn around and see one of her perfect, terrifyingly powerful feet land just behind me before its sister whooshed by me in another giant step. I felt the wind from her stride knock me onto my ass as I glanced up in awe at her colossal form. She looked like a titanic Goddess descending from the heavens to an unworthy worm like me for a brief moment, and then the foot that was left in my vision lifted and gracefully flew right by my head, her big toe only inches to the side of me. I caught her faintly musky footsweat scent again and I fell onto my back, looking at her walk away from me upside down in amazement and listening to her thunderous footfalls fade away. It took until she was out of sight in her room before I realized that she hadn’t been looking down and didn’t notice how close she was to me. I then realized that I was maybe half the size of her gigantic feet now and if she had stepped on me, well.. she would have had a tough time cleaning my remains out of her carpet. 

Somehow that thought was almost.. exciting and I was almost turned on by how powerful she was now, without even trying. Approaching rumbles let me know she had finished changing and was returning for me. 

“Joe, are you ready?” Her voice rang out as her huge, imposing form filled the doorway and she paused, casting her gaze to the floor in search of me. I began trotting towards her and waving my hands as I took in her outfit. She had on a large tan sunhat, that matched her blue denim overalls nicely. The overalls had just a few pockets on them, one right between her large breasts and I briefly hoped that would be where I spent my time today. The overalls covered a light short sleeve t-shirt and the pant legs crept down, ending just shoved her knees with rolled up cuffs. Her feet were encased in simple black rain boots that rose to her mid calf, presumably in case the ground was wet. She spotted me and very quickly I was standing on her hand in front of her face. Her giant brown eyes appraised me as she told me I’d be staying in her chest pocket, the one I had hoped for, so it would easy for her to keep an eye on me, and because it was the loosest pocket so I wouldn’t be too hot trapped against her body. Her eyes raised for a moment and she continued, “But I also know it’s against my breasts, and if I feel your tiny hands trying to grope them you’ll be going into the tightest pocket I have and sweating out the rest of your time in silence, mister.” She said that with a smile and the tiniest hint of a threat to let me know she was serious, if still friendly. “Wouldn't dream of it!” was the only response I mustered, laughing inwardly because I knew I would almost certainly dream of it. 

The garden was a simple enjoyable experience. It felt comforting to be close to her and we chatted the whole time. I was slightly disappointed inside, as every time she leaned over tearing up weeds, the overalls separated from her lovely breasts and I hung in her pocket without the comfort of her pillowy bosom. The pocket came up to just below my armpits so it was easy for me to look out and admire her work. It was strangely mesmerizing to watch her hands tear up weeds that were taller than me in many cases, with trunks that were thicker than my legs, and the lack of real effort it took her was both awe inspiring and comical. I felt very insignificant. A few times as she was leaned over, sweat from her face fell down and splashed onto my head. There was no point in me bringing it to her attention, because it was hot outside and I was even sweating on my own a little bit so there was nothing to be done. For a while after it happened the first time I looked up and made a game of it trying to dodge the next sweat drip, but it wasn’t consistent enough to be worth my time, and all it did was douse me in a little bit of salty water. When the next drop caught me my mouth had been open and I swallowed some of her salty sweat, which was much less pleasant than just being splashed, but I just bore it. After what seemed like an eternity, she finished tearing up the weeds, taking the bucket full of them to the trash. When she opened the trash can, a large cockroach leapt out and began scuttling around on the pavement. Her deafening shriek stunned me briefly but then I felt her body jerk and I heard the unmistakable crunch as the sole of her boot slammed on top of the fat insect. I felt her body twist side to side as I heard that grinding crunch and I leaned over, seeing the top of her sole twist back and forth ever so slightly. I was slack jawed as my eyes found the trail of guts that had clearly squirted out from beneath her with the impact of her boot. When her foot finally moved to examine the wreckage, the gooey mass of flattened insect mush was hardly recognizable. As I stared down, I realized that could have been me this morning. I would have been crushed into nothing but a stain she squished beneath her body.

“Welp, I guess he should have known not to surprise me!” Her voice shook me out of my stupor and I laughed nervously before turning around and gazing into her face. She was smiling down at me when I said “It’s crazy, that was almost me this morning.” She looked down confusedly and I explained how she wasn’t looking down this morning and had stepped right over me. “Goodness! I’ll have to be more careful! We wouldn’t want you to end up like..” and her voice trailed off as we both glanced down at the splattered remains of her tiny victim. “I’ll be careful,” she breathed behind me before continuing to walk back into the house. 

She set me on the kitchen table and asked me if a frozen pizza was okay for lunch. I agreed of course and set to making it. As I waited for it to cook I watched her walk to the door and take off her rain boots. I saw her bare feet slip out of them and all I could think is she must have sweat a lake into those boots without any socks to cover her feet. Her hands briefly tried to rub each foot as they left their rubber prisons and I could see the mild discomfort on her face. I almost spoke up about giving her a foot rub again before realizing how difficult that would be at my current size. She hung her hat and walked back to the kitchen, fixing drinks for us. She smiled as she brought back a large lemonade for herself and a shot glass full of lemonade for me. There was a small coffee stirrer in my drink and I realized it was supposed to be a straw for me. I had to wrap my lips around it and unfortunately my first thought was that his must be very similar to trying to suck a large cock. But I was able to get it in and with a bit of minor difficulty, able to slowly slurp some lemonade up. 

Katie brought the pizza back and set one slice on my plate and two on her own. We ate, and somehow I consumed the entire slice of pizza. Something was clearly odd about my digestion at this size, because that slice was clearly larger than my own body. We talked briefly about how curious that was but in the end the conversation didn’t matter too much, and I just kind of stared in amazement as she finished her fourth piece, my mind again conjuring up feelings of envy, fascination and.. jealousy. I was still staring at her as she finished and put the leftovers in the fridge. 

She came back and set me on the ground before telling me to do whatever I wanted out here while she went to go shower, letting me know she’d help me clean up afterwards. As she walked away I saw she was looking down to make sure she was clear of me before continuing on her way. I stood still for a moment before my eyes fell on her rain boots, and I knew I had to check those out. What used to be only about twenty feet between myself and the boots was nearly a football field of distance at this size, so I set out to a light trot, getting to her boots much faster than the slow walk I had used earlier. One of her boots had fallen over, allowing me to look inside of it. As I approached the opening I noticed the smell emanating from them already, a thick, heavy musk. I could practically taste the salt in her sweat but I was surprised the actual foot smell was relatively mild. There was only a mild sour note to play with the overwhelming savory musk, and the overall effect was surprisingly pleasant. As I stood in front of the entrance, I realized I wanted to see if the scent got worse inside the boot, and so I stopped over to walk inside. As the boot tapered down I had to crawl farther in and the overall smell noticeably intensified, with the sour note becoming more dominant the deeper I went. I turned the corner and crawled all the way to the toe, basking in how overpowering her scent was. It was so intense and pungent that my eyes were lightly watering and I could practically taste it with every breath, but it somehow still wasn’t entirely unpleasant, though not nearly as enjoyable as the lighter scent outside the boot. I stretched my hand out and touched the slightly damp insole of her boot and I was overcome with the urge to taste it. My face rested gently against her insole and my tongue stretched out, delicately collecting the faint moisture trapped within the thin fabric. I drew it into my mouth and was overcome with the intensity of the flavor and somehow.. all I could think was that it was delicious. It made my eyes water and my mouth salivate in response, but I immediately wanted to lick again. This time I pressed my whole tongue to her insole and dragged it slowly upwards. I savored every impact of her sweat droplets on my tongue and then I froze. 

My eyes shot open and I stared at the wall in front of me. I realized this was the boot that had ended the insect earlier, and just inches from my tongue, on the other side of this sole, were the remains of that poor bug. I scrambled out of the boot and sprinted around to the sole, stumbling with excitement. I spotted the faint remains of that unfortunate roach and bent down to examine them. A lone antenna clung to the sole of her boot, the only indicator that the discolored stain ground firmly into the ridges of that surface was ever alive. My eyes soaked up every detail as I found the faint trail of slime that had been the direction its guts had squirted out upon that initial impact. I wonder what it had thought, when it saw the shadow of death above it rocket downwards to crush it. Had it understood fear in the moment where it was engulfed in darkness? Had its greenish-yellow guts spewn from its head or its ass as the pressure pushed its exoskeleton flat? Had the part of it able to feel fear, or maybe pain, still been functional as she twisted her foot to and fro, shredding the already flattened carapace into chitin splinters between her merciless sole and the cold, rough pavement? I wondered what all these things felt like, driven deliriously forward by the blood rushing from my brain to my cock. 

As I squatted down to imagine that powerful stomp I heard a heavy thud and realized the Goddess who had obliterated the insect before me was walking back towards my insignificant form. I stood up stiffly as she appeared around the corner calling my name. Dressed in loose black capris and a simple v-neck t-shirt she called out my name while tightening the towel wrapped around her head to dry her hair. Her eyes scanned the floor before finding me standing next to her boots. Her face gained a questioning expression before she called out “Are you ready to wash up? And what are you doing over there?” I nodded as she stepped toward me and picked me up in her open palm. 

“I was just looking at what was left of that roach you got earlier.” I tried not to squirm as I imagined how odd what I said was, but it seemed to work as she grinned, “Oh not much right? I’m pretty quick on the draw when it comes to getting those little crawlers and I want to make sure when I kill them, they stay dead!” She laughed lightly and then began carrying me to the bathroom for my own clean time. 

In the bathroom she had set up a small Tupperware container and filled it with warm water. There was a chunk of a bar of soap stuck to the lip of the container and what appeared to be a small scrap of an old washcloth right next to it. “It was the best I could do unfortunately,” she said before placing me next to the little makeshift bathtub. I started to strip immediately before she coughed and said “Um, I’ll be back in fifteen minutes since I can’t hear you, so just be ready by then okay?” She quickly exited the bathroom and I realized it was to give me my privacy. For a moment I was disappointed, because I knew I would have jumped at the chance to see her naked but I brushed it off and realized that I’m the deviant here, not her. 

The bath was disappointing and I couldn’t feel clean because I was hyper aware that I was still kind of sitting in my own filth of the day. I had never liked baths but there was no practical way for me to shower alone because I’d be unable to turn the water on or off or reach the soaps, and the little scraps I was using for this bath would get washed down the drain immediately. I was too large for that to happen to me but unfortunately things that I would be able to use would be too small. I heard footsteps toward coming my way again and I leapt out of the bath to get to the tiny towel she had left for me. She knocked and called out “I’m coming in!” I managed to wrap the towel around my waist as she opened the door and filled the small bathroom with her presence. My nose caught a whiff of her warm vanilla lotion before I made eye contact with her. She was excitedly holding another small outfit for me, happily exclaiming that she found some Ken doll clothes so I might actually have a wardrobe. It was just a pair of khaki shorts and a simple t-shirt but it was closer to real clothes than the action figure pants I had on earlier. She told me she’d be back in two minutes to get me after I dressed. 

We sat at the dining table, talking about what to do. I made it clear that I wanted to wait it out for a while, and she was fine with that, but she also told me she still had things to do and couldn’t be with me every moment of the day. I agreed with her and said I would do my best to not be a nuisance. There was tidying up to do around the house that she was going to start on and I asked what I could do to help. She told me that at my size there wasn’t much, but if I were to clean out the stuff beneath the couch it would be a big help to her, both because it would mean she didn’t have to do it and she wouldn’t have to look down the entire time she walked around in her home. The game plan was decided and we split up, me cleaning under the couch and her organizing the various things that had collected in piles during the week. 

Under the couch was mostly dust, discarded papers and little scraps of food like stale popcorn and pretzels. I made little piles of most of the junk right she would stoop down and collect as she passed by the couch. Her feet would stop next to the pile and I would see her hand descend and scoop up the trash. I’d get a faceless thank you before her feet continued out of sight and I imagined that those feet were my world, and I was serving a Goddess who could end my existence in a moment beneath her without so much as a second thought. I was done under the couch, save for a single pretzel and popped piece of popcorn. I had a devious plan, and I wanted to see her crush something else with her divine foot. When she wasn’t in sight, I ran out and placed the pretzel stick and popcorn out in two spots I thought were likely to be stepped on and waited. I kept imagining the delightful crunch I would hear as she broke either of those scraps beneath her. She walked through the rooms several times with no success, and just as I grew frustrated I saw her stride right towards the popcorn. Her food descended, heel centered directly over the popcorn before silently compressing it into the carpet. I watched it disappear with excitement but then also confusion before I realized the popcorn was stale and therefore too soft to present a satisfying crunch. I was disappointed before her foot lifted up again and I realized I could see the popcorn flattened and stuck to her sole as she stepped forward, completely oblivious to the destruction below her. With bated breath I realized her next step was going to land on the pretzel which I knew would still provide a satisfying crunch and I quivered with anticipation. Her heel again stamped the popcorn into the ground and the rest of her foot seemed to drop down in slow motion until the ball of her foot made contact with the pretzel. I heard exactly one sharp snap as the pretzel succumbed to her weight and I watched as her toes flexed upwards before she gasped and her foot jerked back into the air. 

“Joe!” In that word I heard fear, confusion and just a tiny bit of irritation. She called out again, this time without the fear and with more irritation, “Joe!” I came out from under the couch and trotted to her. “Thank goodness,” she started, “I thought I killed you! What happened? Why is this pretzel out here?” I tried calling up to her before realizing she wouldn’t be able to hear and I just made an apologetic gesture. She just stared down at me before saying “Well, if this is your fault would you mind getting this pretzel off my foot? I can feel it stuck there.”

I gulped and stared at her sole hovering off the ground before I jogged towards it. She lifted it, tilting it slightly so the ball of her foot was about a foot over my head and her heel was about a foot below my head, to me. I saw the popcorn still stuck to her sole and realized she still couldn’t feel the other subject of her destruction. I stepped under her colossal sole and looked up. Behind me her toes wiggled slightly as directly over me I could see a chunk of the pretzel stick stuck to the pad of her foot. I quickly removed it and then took a risk. I stooped and walked the length of her sole until the other snack was next to my face. As I reached with my hands to separate it from her sole I realized she probably couldn’t feel any contact on her calloused heel and in a spur of the moment decision, I quickly planted a kiss on her heel. As if I had been struck by lightning I was suddenly overpowered by a desire to serve her and lick her feet and I wanted her to step down and grind me into nothing just because she could. I recovered quickly and darted out from under her, shaking as I held up the piece of pretzel and flattened popcorn. She saw me and thanked me before putting her feet back down and bending to pick up me and the pretzel chunks. When she lifted me up she said she was very scared for a moment and then asked me if I was done under the couch. When I told her I was she said good, she was going to start dinner now and I should do my best to stay out of the way for now. She set me down again and walked away. 

My heart was pounding so forcefully that I saw my shirt flutter with every thump. I couldn’t understand what happened. My mind was confused and I tried to rationalize what I had just felt. I knew I was a little submissive in bed, but I had never felt raw subservient desire like this before. And I had never felt the desire to die, but when I thought of her perfect foot coming down and mercilessly extinguishing the life from my insignificant form, I got so excited. Like I wanted that, or some part of me did at least, and wanted it desperately. As if that part of me felt like I deserved to be turned into an unrecognizable mush by this goddess.. I shook my head and snapped back to reality. I wanted to get back to normal and just be normal again. 

After about 30 minutes of watching tv I realized how thirsty I was and began walking toward the kitchen. I saw her bending over and I took a moment to admire her lovely round ass, and I had a moment where I wanted her to sit on my face with us both at normal size before I again came out of my daydream and tried waving and yelling at her. She clearly couldn’t hear me and was absorbed in her work chopping up food to make what appeared to be a homemade marinara sauce for the pasta she had out. I began walking towards her when she spun around and walked towards me, stopping at another part of the counter top to work on something. I had a moment of fear as I realized that if she moved sharply and I wasn’t ready, my terrifying fantasy would become reality. I shuddered briefly and waited for her to move back to her original spot. She did and I ran towards her, senses on edge as I watched her feet flex while she chopped up more ingredients. I was almost to her when I heard her swear lightly under her breath and I watched as her foot turned and she took a quick step directly towards me. I dove to the side just in time to see her pinky toe whiz by my face and her heel come down right where I had been. I heard her step to another part of the counter and I rolled onto my back just in time to feel her walk back towards me. Her foot raised right over me and I rolled to the side, feeling the wind from her body as her foot again settled right where I had been while she hummed obliviously and continued cooking. I took a moment to gather myself, looking up at her from the floor as she focused on her task. “She nearly ended me and didn’t even notice” I thought, my face flushed with her complete power over me. I finally stood and brushed myself off before walking to her foot and lightly tapping her. 

The shriek that escaped her lips surprised me and I stumbled backwards as her foot rocketed into the air and I saw her look down, terrified for a second before her foot started descending back at me rapidly. My last thought as I saw her sole speed towards my fragile body was that she must have thought I was a bug and her instincts took over. Fear paralyzed me but I realized that I would die with an erection, overcome by her magnificence. But the splat never came and her sole rose back into the air and I saw her face appear to the side of her foot as she looked down at me in fear. When her bright amber eyes found my prone, tiny form, a visible wave of relief cascaded over her face before being replaced by the exasperated glare of a frustrated parent. 

“Joseph!” She called my full name with an attitude that already sounded like a lecture. “You can’t surprise me like that! You’ve already seen how fast I react! I could have squished you like a bug!” The sole of her foot was still hovering menacingly over me, as if she intended to drive her point home with her heel. She must have seen the fear on my face, as she glanced at her own foot and set it slowly down beside me, standing over me with her toes wiggling on either side of my puny body. Slightly calmer, she stood above me, hands on her hips and flared down before saying “What were you doing, what did you want?”

My voice didn’t come the first time I opened my mouth to speak, and when it finally did come out it was hardly over a whimper. “I was just trying to get something to drink!” I called up to her and I could see her irritation as she couldn’t hear me and her hand descended quickly to lift me to her face. Her hand gripped my legs and I was startled by the realization that she could probably crush me in her hand with only slightly more effort than beneath her foot. She stared expectantly  at me but my head was spinning from how quickly she had yanked me to her face. Her eyes bored into me and she squeezed me ever so slightly, scaring me as my eyes finally focused on her intense gaze. Her eyebrows raised and I finally spoke, “I’m sorry! I was trying to get your attention. I just wanted something to drink and I.. I can’t really get it on my own.” Her eyes conveyed a touch of sympathy, but her expression was still predominantly one of frustration. She stared briefly for one more moment before sighing and putting me on the countertop. With less of a flourish than this morning, she produced another small glass full of water, sans stirrer and brought it to the dining table with me, telling me to wait here. I wanted to ask for a straw but I didn’t want to ask too much of her so I just went with it and drank from the glass like a dog from a bowl. It wasn’t too much longer before a steaming plate of spaghetti was placed in front of me and we began eating in a kind of awkward silence. 

She saw me struggling with my drink, but definitely pretended that she didn’t, and that let me know she was still upset with me. I quietly ate all of my food and watched her consume her meal in silence. 

She saw me staring and after a brief delay finally said “What?” I looked up at her and returned “Um. Well I wanted to say thank you for the delicious meal. And thank you for the drink and.. um. Well. I'm glad you didn’t squish me. I'm sorry I stressed you out and I just want to know what I can do to make it up to you.”

She paused thoughtfully and said, “Well I would have liked another foot massage like you gave me last night but I don’t think you can handle it at your size.” 

I scoffed at her, “Always underestimating my abilities because of my size, huh? I’ll do it as long as you promise not to squish me!” I laughed at my last quip and she let out a small chuckle as well before firing back, “That may depend on how well you rub my feet, little man”

I stood in front of her and gulped. Her heels rested on a pillow in front of me and I was suddenly glad my fate didn’t rest on my ability to rub her feet. Her toes flexed, nearly six feet above my head, and I stared at the daunting task in front of me. I peeked around her foot and met her gaze as she looked down at me with a smirk before saying “I guess I could help you out a little bit.” She cocked her feet to the side so they made a V, her heels meeting in the middle and her soles rising diagonally away from the intersection. “Plus now I’ll get to watch you work, which is nice.” I stepped up next to her foot and was pleased to realize that made her toes only a foot above my head and the rest of her soles within easy reach. 

I stepped close to her and began my task, immediately noticing how much firmer and tougher her foot flesh felt at this size. Her skin was tougher than I remembered and I had to really push hard into her sole to penetrate and massage to the depth I had gotten just last night. The smell of her feet was noticeably stronger than what I had smelled when I rubbed her at full size, but I also knew it was nowhere near the all consuming musk of her boots. Occasionally as I rubbed her feet I would stumble and fall into her sole and I would hear a small laugh from my audience. I would blush slightly and try to focus on the task again, much to her amusement I was sure. It was hard work at this size and while I devoted myself no less intensely than the night before, when I finished I was surprised that I had only been rubbing for an hour, whereas the previous night I was surprised I had been doing it for an entire hour. 

I sat down in front of her feet with a sigh and looked down at my raw hands. As I looked down, a shadow fell over me and I looked up to find her big toe right in front of me. She delicately dipped her toe beneath my chin and gently raised my head in an affectionate gesture and said “Thank you very much for your hard work. I enjoyed that even more than your massage last night. Are you ready for bed?”

I nodded and she swept me up and carried me to my bedroom. She tucked me in and blew me a kiss before stepping out of the room. I lay in my giant bed and stared at the ceiling, the day repeating itself over in my head. My mind was stuck on the image of her lovely boots squashing that roach and then the image of what I saw when I was in the roaches spot, beneath her immense, powerful sole. 

My imagination continued that scene and my hand drifted to my crotch as I slowly began stroking myself to thoughts of what would happen if the bottom of her foot had continued to the ground instead of stopping and showing me mercy. I imagined looking up and watching her foot grow ever larger as it fell towards my body. I imagined the ball of her foot coming to rest on my chest as my arms were pressed to the ground, the rest of her sole covering my body and my head trapped between her big toe and second toe. I imagined being able to see her face through that space as her toes pressed into my cheeks and pinned my head. I could almost feel the pressure of her warm sole settling into my body, feel her weight compressing my ribs and beginning to cause my body to struggle to maintain its shape. My breath slowly started to leave my body and I could feel my face grow redder as I gasped between her toes, her face looking at the space between her toes almost.. enjoying my suffering. In an instant the pressure intensified and I could feel my feet and ankles flatten under her, my bones grinding together inside my body as the force traveled up my legs continuing to crush me. I tried but couldn’t scream as I could feel my hips shatter beneath her and my eyes roll back into my head as I spasmed in place. My head felt like it would explode from the pressure as I could feel my guts being pushed towards it like a tube of toothpaste. For a moment I pictured the pressure lessening slightly and her spreading her toes to get a good look at my face. I imagined her saying down to me, “Goodbye, bug” before her toes would shift back over me and the pressure would suddenly increase exponentially. Laying in my bed I came from my furious stroking as my mind filled with the sounds and sensations of my own demise. I huffed and puffed and slowly came down from my orgasmic high and immediately began drifting to sleep. I thought a shadow moved near my door as I embraced the sweet grip of sleep.

I woke with a start as my door opened and Katie walked in again, throwing an outfit on my bed and saying hurriedly, “Breakfast will be ready in five minutes you’ll have to eat with me and then I’ll be leaving for work. I try to get you set up with food and water while I’m out but I don’t want to risk taking you to work right now so you’ll have to entertain yourself.” I dressed up quickly and I was eating a waffle she sliced up for me in a rush. I admired her outfit, which was just a tight pair of black professional slacks and a red white and black patterned v-neck blouse. She had a simple gold wristlet on and a gold necklace with large black stone inlays. 

“You look good! I like your outfit!” I said to her as she quickly ate and looked at her phone, clearly getting ready for the day. She looked up at me and smiled, “Oh I look terrible but thank you sweetie! I still need to put my makeup on and slip on my heels before I can walk out that door. If you’re done I’ll set you down and you can go enjoy your day. Just please do your best to not be in my path! I’ve got to rush this morning!” She set me down gently on the floor and returned to her meal. I wished I could lessen her stress just a little bit before she went off this morning and I tried to think of a way to help. I didn’t enjoy feeling so.. useless. As I thought, my eye caught her legs under the table. She had crossed them and now one barefoot bounced anxiously above my head while the other pressed flat against the ground. No position to offer a massage and probably no for her to enjoy it anyways. I walked away still pondering to myself. A few minutes later I heard her footsteps shake the ground behind me and I turned to see her walking right towards me, eyes on her phone. I sprinted and dove out of her way as her feet swished by my and her eyes not even glancing away from her phone. I trotted after her, maintaining a distance that would allow me to dive out of her way should she suddenly turn, but there was no need as she just went straight to the bathroom and began working on her makeup.

I watched her, amazed at how quickly and expertly her hands moved and prettied her face. As I watched her flick her hands to create her mascara eye wings, I wished I could do even a tiny thing to help her get ready. I racked my head and looked her up and down before my eyes settled on her bare feet and I realized she probably didn’t have her shoes ready. I took a quick look at her outfit and sprinted to her closet. I was greeted with a sight that I would have enjoyed at my full size due to my foot fetish: rows and rows of shoes and sandals and boots and high heels. She hadn’t picked out a pair of shoes to wear yet as far as I could tell, so I figured the only thing I could do to help was get her one less thing to do in the morning. I looked at her shoes and felt like heels went the best with the office look she had going on, so I searched for a pair of simple black heels for her to rock. On the first level there was a great pair but as I pulled them out I realized they were peep-toed heels and she wouldn’t want her chipped nail polish showing. I glanced around, trying to find another suitable pair when I spotted the perfect set, up on the third row of shelving. It looked about two feet off the ground, or about 4 times my own height. I decided I was going to do it because she deserved it, and so I began the arduous climb, pulling myself up platform by platform, occasionally boosting myself by pushing off of a shoe. With an effort that I would describe as Herculean, I finally made it up to her pair of shoes, a thin sweat covering my brow. I looked at the shoes, which were a simple pair of black patent leather pumps with a heel slightly taller than my waist, and realized getting them back down might be a bit difficult. A brief pause and then I decided just pushing them over the edge was the best course of action. They seemed surprisingly light, or at least, I was surprised that I was able to move them more than a little at a time, and I lifted the first one and flipped it onto the floor. I repeated the process with the second shoe but as I watched it topple over the edge I lost my balance and fell as well. 

The carpet rushed up to meet me and I braved myself for impact, but I merely bounced off the floor. I was shocked at how little that hurt, and began wondering if it was the softness of the carpet that saved me or my diminutive size that stopped my fall from having too much force. I lay still for only a second before popping up and walking to her heels. I wanted to have them neatly laid out for her to show my appreciation. Dragging her shoes together in a neat little display was time consuming but not particularly difficult, and as I finished I heard the toilet flush and footsteps roll my way. Her shoes were perfectly centered in the open space of her closet and I stepped back from them with my arms out wide to signal “Tah-dah!” and to keep myself away from accidental squishing. 

She turned the corner and stood in the doorway. I saw the surprise on her face and then a smile before she said, “How sweet of you! You think these look best with my outfit?” I nodded vigorously and watched as she slipped her feet into each shoe, twisting her feet all the way in. She then tilted one heel up on her toe and pushed her hips out, striking a pose and looking down at me for approval. I clapped fiercely in approval and she struck a few more poses before picking me up and saying, “You are just a little dear!” She clutched me to her chest and I said back, “Well it was the least I could do for you! When you get back I’ll make sure to rub your feet again to relax you the way you deserve!” She held me in front of her face, saying, “You are such a perfect gentleman! I will see you when I get back tonight! And I’ll be looking forward to that footrub!” Then she leaned forward and I was surprised by how large her lips were as they filled my vision and her bottom lip ended up smothering my face as her top lip touched the top of my head with her light little kiss before she set me down. I stood in front of her, stunned by how enjoyable it had been being smothered by her colossal lips. My mind had imagined her opening her mouth wide and her immaculate white teeth greeting me, ready to tear into my flesh. I was knocked from this daydream by a nudge as I felt the toe of her shoe poke me in the stomach and I looked up to see her peering down at me over her breasts and waving happily, “Goodbye sugar!” I stuck my hand out and rubbed the tip of her pump as I waved back with the other hand. Her grin got just a bit wider before she turned around and walked to the front door. 

As soon as she left, I laid down on the ground and masturbated again to thoughts of her stepping down on me, playing with me before casually ending my life. I must have pictured her crushing, stomping and squishing me with twenty pairs of the shoes around me by the time I came. I lay there staring up at the ceiling, panting as sweat covered my brow. I felt disgusted in myself for imagining these things, a little pervert with no self control. I sighed before deciding that I might as well do something productive today. As I stepped out of her closet I saw her bed, and decided that testing out my falling durability might as well be my task for today. Climbing the bed was an irritating, tedious task, but I was able to get to the top, three feet off the ground and stare over the edge. I had a clear view of how crazy this was before I jumped off and again bounced off of the carpet with no more than a minor shock. Over the course of the next hour I climbed several things, eventually discovering that a fall from roughly 7 feet onto carpet finally resulted in the wind getting knocked out of me. I was only down for a moment, and then I decided to test my falls onto a harder surface. The only tile was in the kitchen, and before I began climbing again I saw the bowl of water she had set out for me, complete with a straw, and a ziploc bag with a sandwich sealed inside. I did my best to not feel like a pet as I ate and drank. Feeling refreshed I climbed up to the kitchen countertop. As I looked at the 4 foot fall I decided it might be better to start from slightly lower, so I opened up a few drawers and dropped again. From the lesser height the impact still didn’t hurt much, although I did notice I bounced higher, the hard floor not absorbing my kinetic energy as much. Trying it from the countertop showed me the edge of some pain, but not as much as a 7 foot fall on carpet. I was too tired to continue climbing and whatnot so I relaxed in the living room. Graciously Katie had left the remote on the floor and so that’s how I passed a fair amount of my day. 

About 30 minutes before I expected her to be home I thought it would be nice to set up a pair of slippers for her in the entryway like I had in the closet that morning. I found her pair of comfy looking flip flops and set them up, finishing right as I heard a car door slam outside. I backed up out of squishing range and waited for her. I heard the keys in the door and then it swung open. The first thing she said was, “Oh gosh, so good to be home. My feet are kiiiilling me.” She saw my little display and I trotted forward waving and smiling at her. She saw me and said “Oh, did you set these out for me? I appreciate that so much, but I prefer bare feet in the house. I’ll slip these on and step outside for a quick cigarette if you want to join me though!” She kicked off her heels and I heard her yelp as one of them flew towards me and I dove out of the way to avoid getting skewered. She quickly bent to pick me up and apologize, telling me it had just been one of those days and she didn’t expect that and was glad I had good reflexes. I told her not to worry about it and I leaned over to watch her work her feet into the flip flops. I told her I’m sorry I didn’t do something more useful for her and she told me to hush and brought me outside. I watched her light up her cigarette after she set me on a ledge next to her. I asked her about her day and she told me that her coworkers just kept making more work for her by messing things up. She said she needed a stress toy on hand every time she had a phone call with them. 

I watched her finish her cigarette and gulped as she dropped it. I leaned over, knowing what was coming as she stepped forward and ground it out under her sole. As she twisted she asked me how my day went. I was still hypnotized by her grinding foot and didn’t answer until I felt a tap on my head. She stopped grinding right as she touched me and asked if I was okay. I looked up at her startled, before finally telling her I did some experiments today and I wanted to show her something cool. As she asked what, I jumped and I saw her try to catch me, but she missed and I dropped to the ground. One tiny bounce and I was back on my feet, and looking up at her as she squatted down immediately. 

“Are you okay??” She called out, the worry clear in her voice and on her face. I told her all about my climbing and falling today and how I didn’t seem to really get hurt from any drop, carpet being especially forgiving. She said that was cool and also mentioned that between my climbing and falling she might not have to carry me everywhere, which would be nice for both of us. I agreed with her and then we went back inside. I offered to carry all of her shoes back so she could head to the kitchen and start dinner and she told me that would be nice, before stepping right in front of me and slipping her feet out of her flip flops and walking away. I picked them up by the straps and was easily able to hoist and carry them on back to her closet. As I walked with them on my back I could feel the slight moisture from her foot sweat and my nose was caught in the heady musk of it. I put the flip flops down, but before I tucked them away, I worriedly looked around to make sure she wasn’t near and bent down to lick a few drops of her foot sweat from the sole of the shoe. As soon as my tongue collected a drop I felt like I was under the influence of some strange drug. I wanted to lick all the moisture from her soles and drown in her sweat myself. I shook my head to break the spell and jogged back to grab her high heels. These were much heavier and I ended up carrying them one at a time by carrying it upside down overhead, my hands against the insole as my head was inside the shoe. I was so entranced by her overwhelming scent inside the heel that I hardly noticed how slowly I was moving until I heard Katie walk by and laugh, “It’s so funny seeing my shoe shimmy down the hall. It’s like it’s slowly being carried away by an ant!” She laughed again and left me to continue my task, unaware that my face had flushed red and my mind became stuck on the idea of being an insect beneath her sole once again. She didn’t know how I longed to be an insignificant bug to her. 

As I finished carrying her second heel to the closet I tossed it down and collapsed, exhausted. My eyes were closed and suddenly I realized the steps I had grown accustomed to in the background were getting louder until I realized she was in her room. I stood behind her heel and peeked around it. A magnificent sight greeted me. Already in her panties, I saw her lift her shirt over her head and take it off, exposing her imposing breasts hugged by a simple nude bra. She spread her legs and stood momentarily in what I would describe as a power stance, hands on her hips before she made a decision I wanted to thank her for immediately. Her hands moved to her hips and her thumbs hooked her panties and dropped them to the floor. My jaw dropped in unison as I admired the full moon presented to me, and then as her head dropped between her legs I swore she caught sight of me. I dove behind her high heel again but I didn't hear any changes in her behavior, so I peeked around just in time to see her slip one magnificent foot into a pair of gray sweats. I gazed as she lifted her leg gracefully and with a delicate twirl she slipped her other foot in as well and began wiggling the waistband up. It got caught under her sizable ass and I realized I was holding my breath and my hand strayed to my cock as she bent and shimmied her luscious buttocks into the pants. For the briefest of moments I was blessed with a glorious view of her perfect, delicate brown rosebud gently nestled between her two ivory asscheecks and I whimpered with yearning before she finished pulling up and sauntered off to the kitchen. I stood in shock, wanting to furiously masturbate right there but knowing she would be looking for me shortly. On cue I heard her call my name and I sprinted out into the hall to pretend I hadn’t just snuck a peek at her glorious naked form. She called out my name again as I rounded the corner into the kitchen and promptly ran into her large, lovely foot. 

I fell with a flop on top of her foot, arms wide and I instinctively grabbed on as she jerked her foot back in surprise. There was a short squeak and her foot jerked, flicking my body in a backwards arc, crashing in the closet and sliding down to the floor. 

I popped back up immediately and jogged forward, showing her I was okay but when I looked up, I did not see the compassion or worry I expected. I saw an impersonal irritation and what felt like a… divine rage of some kind. I could feel this strange energy between us, as if she was something greater than myself and I should not have dared to disappoint her and I did the only thing I could think to appease her. I dropped to my knees, raised my hands and pressed my forehead to the floor in a sign of penitence. The moment my forehead pressed against the warm, fuzzy carpet, that same omnipresent energy grew heavy, and I felt as if a powerful shadow looked above me, shaking my body with a primal fear I had never experienced. I knew exactly how the roach she had crushed had felt, and it took every part of my soul to remain in place and chant an apology as my body shook with unstoppable spasms of fear. 

After what I felt as an eternity, but couldn’t have been more than seconds, the pressure of the shadows energy subsided, and I felt only the cool, impersonal irritation from earlier. I stood, looked up at her furrowed brow and uniquely disappointed expression and chose to display my remorse another way. I briskly stepped forward and hugged her ankle, securing myself against the side of her foot and anchoring myself to her by gripping her anklet through her cotton sweatpants. She raised her heel slightly in confusion and I held on, lifting myself with her foot and making it impossible to accidentally end up underfoot. She raised her foot higher and rolled her ankle in a circle, inspecting me before clicking her tongue and beginning a brief stroll to the kitchen. 

Wordlessly I heard her begin to assemble what looked like dinner, and I continued to cling tightly to her. It was interesting, with her foot moving in quick, unpredictable jerks as she stepped between the fridge, oven and cutting board. I couldn’t see what she was making but I could smell it, and it smelled delicious. Exactly one time during the preparation I felt safe enough to extricate myself and begin the climb to the kitchen table, but the moment I released my grip, I heard her clear her throat and felt the overwhelming pressure of her gaze again. I quickly reassumed my position and waited patiently for instructions. 

She finished cooking and carried the two dishes to the table and made the short trip to fill some cups with soda and water, for her and I respectively. She took her seat, and then slowly raised her leg to about a seventy-degree angle, not quite parallel to the floor. I looked up at her confusedly before she raised her eyebrows at me and uttered the first words I’d heard in over thirty minutes. 

“Climb.”

I dropped to the floor immediately, and just as quickly felt the overwhelming power of her gaze and her irritated voice chimed, “No, my leg! Climb my leg!”

Her foot came to the floor and I scurried over, climbing up and hesitating only long enough to realize she wouldn’t be lifting her leg again for an easy climb before I began my journey. I was so light and her sweatpants were so easy to grip that the vertical ascent was quick and relatively painless. I got to her knee and trotted closer to her torso, unsure how far she wanted me to climb. As I jogged, the leg I was on raised up, forcing me to drop to the “ground” and cling to her like an insect as she crossed that leg over the other, placed a hand on her leg, and began leisurely kicking her foot, sending a rhythmic pulse of contractions through her thigh muscle. I stood and stuck my hands out to aid my balance but was unable to do so, so I dropped to my hands and knees and crawled towards her slightly chipped purple nails. I swear I nearly heard her purr with satisfaction as I crawled along her body, and as I approached her hand and got the faintest whiff of a scent I could only describe as.. a womanly musk. My face flushed when I realized she must be enjoying this more than I realized. I put my head down and quickly scampered up her arm, with the bare skin going near to her shoulder making the climb more difficult, but the gentler angle stopping it from being impossible. I finally hopped from her body to the table and immediately received an expectant “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you!” I called out and dropped to my knees, continuing, “I’m so sorry for worrying you and giving you a scare before.”

“Well dear, it wasn’t too bad, but I did decide that if you keep acting like a bug, I’m going to treat you like a little insect. You’re lucky you’re a cute bug! I can keep you as a pet and not have to squish you. ” She chuckled gently and I nervously returned the sentiment with a gulp before she gestured to my plate and beckoned me to eat the chicken, broccoli and rice she had prepared.

She had deemed me worthy to receive a straw today and I gratefully slurped at my water, right as she asked me what I was doing in her room anyways. 

Water sprayed from my mouth as I replied, “ Well, uh.. I’m, I was.. I was making sure your shoes were properly organized!” 

“I appreciate the thought, but it wasn’t necessary. It’s a lot harder for you to do that than it is for me.”

We ate, talking briefly about what I did today, (leaving out that I masturbated while imagining her turning me into a little red stain) and then she told me she had a big meeting tomorrow. I asked if there was anything I could do to help her and she said , “No… oh wait actually, you can paint my nails tonight! I’ve got to make sure they’re perfect.”

“I can do that! What color?”

She grinned, “Blood red! I’ve got to intimidate some folks tomorrow.”

I gulped, light-headed from the phrase “blood red”, and asked if she had any. She told me yes and said she could take off the polish while I gave her that foot massage I promised. 

Soon enough, dinner was complete and I slid down the table and made my way towards the couch while she put away the dishes and gathered supplies. I waited, at first just sitting where I expected to be when I’d be working on her feet, but then.. I got the strange compulsion in my head to wait on my knees, closer to waiting at some.. altar? I heard her steps round a corner and I bowed my head suddenly, feeling incredibly submissive and even questioning why I was doing this in the first place. 

I heard her stop for a moment as she entered the room, and then she spoke, in a tone you’d expect to hear someone encourage a dog with, “Oh wow! What a good boy, waiting so patiently for me! This is definitely much better behavior than earlier!”

I could hear the smile in her voice as she spoke, and I felt my ears flush and face turn red at her words, feeling just a little emasculated but also a little proud? I kept my head down to avoid letting her see my feelings and just waited until her strides took her to the couch, where she plopped down and then her huge, perfect feet swung into view, dominating my field of vision with her purple chipped nail polish adorning her eager toes. 

I finally looked up at her, and my face flushed even redder when I saw her leaning over, her big face and strong eyes examining me closely, a slight smile on her lips. She looked like she was thinking about what to do next, and somehow I felt like her thoughts had nothing to do with painting her nails. Her smile grew devilishly and I felt myself tremble for a moment, not afraid of her necessarily but.. intimidated and uncomfortably aware of our size disparity and then she seemed to snap back to reality, and she leaned back and pulled one foot up, crossing it over her knee and speaking down to me. 

“So! I’ll go ahead and start taking the polish off of this foot while you get to rubbing the other one, and then when we switch you can start painting! And then when you’re done with both feet you can get to giving me that full foot massage you promised. Sound good?”

I only nodded in agreement, and the thought crossed my mind that I might not really have a choice. But, I banished the thought and got to work as she tilted her foot back to give access to her large sole. It loomed over me as I rubbed, deep in her shadow. 

I was so lost in the task of driving my hands into her thick sole that I was shocked when it suddenly lifted and pulled away, and ended up falling forward onto my face. I started pushing myself back to my feet when I saw a new shadow cover me, and then grow darker, and then I looked up just in time to see the sole of her other foot darken above me before it pressed me to the ground. The power disparity between us was made clear as I strained with all my might to keep her foot from crushing me into the floor, and I wasn’t able to slow her soles descent one bit as it fell down and effortlessly pressed me face first into the carpet. I yelled and squirmed with a mouthful of carpet fibers and suddenly realized that if she stood right now, the carpet wouldn’t be enough to stop her weight from shattering every bone in my body. I felt her weight shift and the pressure dramatically increased, forcing all the air from my lungs in a silent scream as I embraced my fate as a stain under her sole and then.. light and air returned and her foot tilted up as I coughed and sputtered beneath her. 

“Jeez! Sorry about that, how’d that happen? I swear you’re just trying to end up under my foot! Get out from under there, almost dying doesn’t relieve you of your duty!”

Her voice had a genial laugh to it, undercutting the menace but not entirely eliminating it. I let out a polite laugh and I’m sure my smile was a little more worried that I wanted it to be, but I prayed she wouldn’t notice as I righted myself. And then I froze, realizing the shorts I wore were tented pretty dramatically by my hard cock. Her almost stepping on me turned me on even more than I imagined. I felt my body break out in a panic sweat as I knelt there, frozen in front of her foot, while she worked at removing the polish from her other foot in her lap, desperately hoping she wouldn’t notice my condition. 

“Are you waiting for an invitation? Or maybe a command? These toes aren’t going to paint themselves, and I was promised that a certain bug-sized boy was going to take care of it for me. Was he lying to me?”

He voice was expectant, her manner confident that the task would be done, and I gulped, frantically searching for my next move. I could imagine no way to hide my shame other than crawling, and so with a wince I did just that, moving on my hands and knees to get the nail polish and begin my task, hoping it wasn’t obvious that I was hiding my crotch from her view. 

“Oh? Crawling around at my feet? You know how to make a lady feel special, I’ll give you that! I almost feel like a goddess being worshiped in a temple. Worship and pray then, little man.”

Her voice carried a hint of amusement and then she turned back to removing the polish from her other foot, the television providing background noise against the silence of our work. 

I grabbed the nail polish and found the brush was not as unwieldy as I expected, although the cap did make it more difficult to hold, certainly a job that required two hands. My strokes were slow and careful, not a drop of the thick nail lacquer out of place. I’d just finished her big toe when her other foot descended into view, and then she spoke down to me, eyes on her show. 

“I figured this would take a while, but that’s part of the fun isn’t it? I’ve got a few episodes of my shows to get through, I assume you can finish this and my massage before bedtime.”

She didn’t seem to need a response, either showing confidence in me or implying a threat upon failure, but I couldn't quite pick out which it was. Regardless, I worked diligently to finish. Occasionally she seemed to forget I was there, shifting her feet around slightly and disrupting me, although sometimes I’d look up and see her smirking down at me after a flick of her foot. Other times she’d move the foot I wasn’t focused on, putting her heel down and allowing the rest of her sole to loom over me. Halfway through, I gently tapped one foot twice and stood back for her to give me access to the other one, and she looked down and flexed her toes, admiring my handiwork with a smile and brief compliment before replacing her feet and getting back to her TV. I’d gotten better handling the brush at my size by now so her other foot took half the time, but as I was finishing her big toe, making sure there were no unsightly brush marks I felt a desire to sign my work in some way. I glanced up at her, engrossed in her show, and then bent close to her nail, under the guise of inspecting my work, and then I planted a quick kiss on the not yet dry polish, leaving an almost perfect imprint of my lips there, nearly invisible to anyone of her size. 

I stood up quickly and waved my arms at her, confident she didn’t notice my indiscretion, and almost giggled with excitement knowing that she would be carrying a bit of me around with her at work tomorrow, and beyond, for as long as that polish stayed on. She finally looked down and said, “Wonderful work! I’ve got maybe one more episode and we’ll get to bed after. You made my day so much better, thank you! I can’t wait to show off my new pedicure tomorrow! The girls at work will be so jealous that my future son-in-law did it too, you’re earning major brownie points for when my daughter gets back! And hopefully we get you back to size!”

I fully beamed with pride at her compliments, but hid the twinge of guilt I felt when she mentioned her daughter. Her I was, fantasizing about my fiancés mother, my future mother in law, hiding my erection from just being a bug at her feet. I felt disgusted with myself. The only redeeming thought I had for myself was that surely when my fiancée returned, I’d be even more aroused by her from my new vantage point. She was already a stunning goddess at my regular height. At this one, I have to imagine she’d appear even more divine. 

I was lost in those thoughts as I rubbed the two large feet presented to me, reaching every nook and cranny and pressing as firmly as I could against her strong soles. As I worked, I felt myself leaning closer and closer to them, entranced by her power but also.. something about the rich, sweaty musk her feet exuded drew me in and clouded my thoughts. Every moment I spent rubbing made me feel more and more like this moment was my entire world, and without thought or care I closed the last inch to her sole and planted a tiny kiss, just below the ball of her foot. When I pulled my head back I saw a tiny red imprint of my lips on her sole and realized it must be leftover nail polish from my earlier clandestine kiss. I stared, transfixed for a moment, consumed by the idea that my lips would be carried with her tomorrow, beneath her sole, stepped on for the entire day until her feet smeared the little red stain into nothing but dirt and grime, and I nearly came at the thought. My face flushed and I began rubbing again, glancing at the lip mark every so often and imagining the next day, somehow jealous of a tiny work that I had created. I’d been working for quite a while longer when I realized the only sound I could hear was my own breathing and my skin on hers, and I turned to find the television dark, as it might have been for a while, and then looked up to see her, head tilted back, taking deep, slow breaths. I stopped, unsure what to do, and then a moment or two later she stirred and glanced down at me. 

She smiled, glanced at her phone and said, “Looks like you caught me! My show finished almost a half hour ago, but you were so focused on your work and it just felt so good that I let you keep going! Alright now, amazing job, let’s get you and I set up for sleeping! I’m gonna sleep so wonderfully tonight, all thanks to you!”

I felt pride once more at her happiness and then she grabbed me and whisked me around, going through the bedtime routine quickly with me by her side. She brought me to my room after washing up, patted me on the head and said goodnight as she tucked me in. The door was open just a crack once more, and as I stared into the darkness, watching for movement, I began stroking myself. Once I was confident I was alone, I truly masturbated, focusing on the smell and feel of her feet, and the idea that she’d be carrying around two sets of my lips all day tomorrow, and one of them would have the honor of being walked on all day. I ravaged myself, and resolved to get a taste of her bare foot next time I massaged her feet, and the thought of dragging my tongue along her colossal, powerful foot pushed me over the edge, once again exploding in orgasm in this bed. I drifted to sleep quickly, swirling in a sea of my half-baked fantasies.

The next morning I woke to sounds of her heavy thudding footsteps moving through the house as she prepared for work. I grabbed the only other pair of doll sized shorts I had, put them on and leapt from the bed to do what I could to help. My increased toughness was kind of fun, as the bed was maybe a 40 foot drop relative to my size, and the fall was so inconsequential to me that I could just embrace the joy of flying through the air. 

On the ground, I decided to help by choosing a pair of shoes for her today as I did yesterday, knowing it was at least one thing I could actually do. Getting to her closet, I looked at her collection of shoes and remembered that she said she had to “intimidate” some people today, and looked for a match. My first thought was a pair of black combat-style boots, but honestly that didn’t seem like office attire, and while she might find the suggestion funny, it wouldn’t be particularly helpful. The most obvious choice seemed to be a pair of sharp looking pump stilettos, but as I climbed to that shelf, I realized that’d be a waste of my hard work from yesterday. I looked around for something open-toed, and saw the peep-toed shoes I almost chose previously, and was about to grab today until I spotted the perfect pair for today. A pair of black, spike heeled stilettos, with a strap over the widest part of the foot and another slightly thicker strap around the ankle. They were both thick enough that it didn’t feel too out of place for an office, but they would definitely be both a statement piece that showed off her toes, and made her nearly six foot three, which had to be intimidating. 

I heard her doing makeup in the bathroom and quickly pushed the shoes to the floor and posed them in the middle of her closet. She called out that breakfast was ready for me, and I rushed to the kitchen, waving good morning as I passed her in the bathroom. I had a surprising amount of eggs, sausage and toast, cleaning my plate when I heard her call from her closet, “Ooooo.. a bold choice for today! I like it, these will definitely help my meeting today. Good choice, my little stylist!”

A minute or so later I heard the clacking of those heels approach, and I could tell she felt powerful just from the force of her stride. She appeared in the door to the kitchen, wearing a well-fit deep purple womens blazer with a lovely white shirt under, large black stone necklace , and some crisp charcoal womens slacks with a flared leg ending just at the ankles, so every step forward flashed her blood red toes in her aggressive black heels. She posed for a moment and spied me on the floor, towering over me even more than usual and asked, “Well, what do you think?”

I did the only rational thing. Dropped to my knees and mock bowed at her repeatedly, saying “We’re not worthy, we’re not worthy!” as I shuffled forwards. 

She laughed and told me, “Oh hush now! Hopefully I can make this jackass at work bend to my needs as much as you have! Tell me how it all looks together though, and then I’ve got to go!”

With that, she did a quick twirl in place, showing off her ample figure and ass in the process, but when she stopped her spin and put her foot out to catch it, she stepped directly down on the paper plate she’d left on the floor for me containing ziploc bags with pretzels, carrots and my sandwich in them. I heard and saw the crunch, and as she caught herself and shifted quickly to avoid falling, her foot moved and mashed it further, squishing my tuna sandwich and snapping a good chunk of the pretzels and carrots. I was surprised at how forcefully her foot had slammed down and how easily she had demolished the food, but I was once again thankful I was on my knees, hiding my rapidly inflating penis. 

“Um, you look great! Very, uh, very scary!” I said, nervously joking as I looked up at her. 

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, I was so excited, I can’t believe I did that!” She looked down at her foot on my mangled meal and then glanced at her watch. “Damn it, I don’t have time to make another, is this okay? It’s all in bags at least, no dirt or anything on the food, it’s just a little.. squished. I’m sorry hun, thank you for the compliment, I’ve got to get going!”

She was a little embarrassed but also in a rush, so she bent down, gave me a little goodbye squeeze, and rushed out the door, leaving me to stare at the carnage. I stood, and stared at the remains of my meal, admiring the little details of destruction in front of me. Many of the pretzels had been snapped cleanly, but there were several that had shattered, completely pulverized in to shards of gluten so easily by her body. The carrots were similar, with a few clean breaks, but instead of complete shattering, several of them were in some intermediary stage, their sides split in multiple spots and visibly flatter than before, crushed down but not completely splayed, as if just an ounce more pressure would have splattered them dramatically, orange bits spread in a wide arc. Many of those also bore the curious ridged tread of her shoe, where the ball of her foot had pressed down and imprinted the pattern in a dull etching on the carrot canvas. The star of the show was the sandwich however. One full half of it had been smeared paper-thin by the pressure and movement of her skin, its tuna guts spilling out of the sides and oozing up through the wet tears in the bread itself, compressed so sharply under her weight that the surface of the former sandwich was a perfect copy of the ridged sole that had made a lesser mark on the carrots. 

The other half, however, was less damaged, a corner smushed, but the rest relatively undisturbed, with a glaring exception. In the center, almost perfectly placed, both bag and sandwich had a single puncture, undoubtedly from the sharp heel I had chosen for her. I looked into the hole to see the bottom and saw that her heel had pierced so fully through that the white of the paper plate was clearly visible, with only a faint smudge of sandwich left. 

Such a casual display of power was terrifying. And as my dick wouldn’t let me forget, deeply and concerning my arousing. “What the fuck was wrong with me,” I thought to myself, “How did I get this way.. and why do I really… want this?”

I couldn’t answer my questions, but I could answer my dick’s demands. I spent half an hour staring at the destruction and jacking off, rubbing myself raw to the evidence of her overwhelming power. The post-nut clarity mostly made me feel like a worthless little insect, which stirred up more feelings that I chose to distract myself from. 

Realizing that there really wasn’t much I could do at my size, I decided that maybe I’d be better off cleaning the hard-to-reach areas of the house, so I would at least be able to claim I did something productive today. Besides… masturbate. 

I started with the living room, since I figured it would take the least time as I’d already gotten under the couch my first day at the new size. It was very boring and monotonous work, but I was determined to not be worthless to her. As I worked I thought how lucky it was I’d taken a leave of absence from work, but if my condition persisted for another month I’d have more problems. I was still holding onto hope that this was a temporary setback, and I would wake up back to my normal size just as suddenly as I had woken up shrunk. I worried about the future, but ultimately decided there wasn’t much to be done about it right now, and to focus on what I could do and could control in the moment, small as that list might be.

Lost in thought, I’d been working for several hours when my stomach rumbled. As my body told me it was time for lunch, my dick jumped at the memory of what was waiting for me. I made my way to the kitchen, noting how tired I was from my work and how it felt much like I’d been walking through a city all day. I let out a bitter smile as I thought about how much more exercise I was getting these days, and then I spied my meal. I gulped as I approached it, still fascinated with the utter destruction she had wrought upon it in an instant, hardly worth her notice and using only an infinitesimal fraction of her power. Fuck me, why was this so hot?

I savored that meal more than I’d savored any meal in my entire life. Every bite of those splintered pretzels was more delicious knowing she had shattered them, and every chunk of carrot I chewed and swallowed was better because it carried the imprint of her shoe’s sole. I was jealous of the meal she’d prepared for me, and I felt my cock pressing against these dumb little doll shorts for the entire meal. I fantasized about being the objects that had been so delightfully under her foot, wished my body carried the tread marks from her shoe, or had been speared through by her heel, or just compressed flat by her weight, my inside spurting out of my ruptured body. And for the first time in my life, my cock leaked enough precum to visibly stain my shorts, just from tasting the evidence of her destructive power. “I’m so fucked,” I thought to myself, hanging my head in shame that did nothing to lessen my arousal. 

I opened the sandwich bag and began eating, focusing on how flat it had gotten, and letting my fantasies infect my tastebuds, every mouthful better than the one before. I finished an entire lunch, which would have satisfied me at my previous size, and sat there ignoring the mystery in favor of satisfying that base arousal once again. 

Afterwards, laying on the plate, staring at the ceiling and reliving the morning scene, I suddenly realized I hadn’t used the restroom since I’d shrunk, not even once. It’d been three days at my current size, and I hadn’t needed to piss so much as an ounce, let alone fully evacuate myself. If I didn’t feel so great, I would have been more concerned, but it seemed that my body had changed in ways just beyond my size. I wondered what else I would discover, hoping it would be a fun new ability, and not something deeply terrifying or traumatizing.

I went back to work, consolidating most of the junk in a few small piles on the living room floor, based on what was garbage and what might be something useful. I felt satisfied with my work, and then I heard a door slam outside. Betting it was Katie, I ran to the foyer and waited, away from the door, and to the side a little to avoid being in the way of some tossed heels again, just in case. The door opened and there she was, filling the doorframe with her high-heeled silhouette. 

“Oh my goodness, what a day! I got so many compliments on my pedicure and heels, Joe, great job and choice! But these were absolutely killer on my feet, so you’ll really need to work hard on my foot rub tonight!” She looked around and spotted me as she set her bag down on the floor and took off her sweater, smiling down at me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I noted that somehow daily foot rubs seemed to be a part of the routine now. I didn’t mind, but I was certainly a little worn out from my work today, so I hoped it didn’t affect me too much. She continued, “I’m so beat today though, would you mind undoing the little clasps so I can take these spikes off?”

She turned one foot to the side and drew attention to the little buckle on the top strap, right at eye level for me, and looked down at me, watching patiently. I ran to her foot immediately, only feeling that I might have come off a little over eager once I was actually face to face with her little buckle. I began working on it, my small hands struggling with the strap as I suddenly realized how close I was to the open side of her shoe. I lost focus on the buckle and instead watched the arch of her foot carrying much of her weight, but elegantly curved and exposing just a bit of her sole and the lightly damp surface of her insole, fragrant with her foot sweat. My head swirled as her presence overwhelmed me and then she crushed my train of thought with a simple tap of her shoe. 

“You alright down there? I can feel that you stopped working.”

What was only a quick flick up and down of her heel to her felt like a violent spasm of this truck-sized behemoth, and I snapped my hands back from the buckle in shock as the loud clack of her sole hitting the floor again rang in my ears. I glanced up to see her standing over me, looking down with a raised eyebrow and an expression that made me feel incredibly… judged. I knew I was completely at her mercy, and dove forward with my hands yanking at the little buckle as quickly as I could, needing to succeed at my assigned task. I pried the buckle open, and then tapped lightly on her ankle twice, stepping back and moving to her other foot. I felt her move above me and the foot I just freed whooshed into the air and she bent and pulled it from her foot with a soft ‘thwip’ sound as her damp sole peeled from the shoe. As I pulled at the buckle on her other shoe, it suddenly jerked and the ground shook with the impact of her bare foot slamming back down as she planted it to regain her balance.

The force of the impact made me fall forward and face plant into her foot, and two things happened in response. I took a deep breath, inhaling the delicious, perfectly sweaty musk of her foot, but was unable to enjoy it for another moment as I was yanked into the air with her foot, gripping tightly onto the shoe strap. She seemed to notice me clinging to her shoe, as I heard her booming voice echo in my skull, “Oh, are you hitching a ride up here? Let me get this shoe off and you can come outside with me while I have a cigarette.”

She seemed oblivious to how much danger I’d been in as she grabbed me with one hand and wrenched her heel from her foot with the other, tossing it carelessly to the ground. As her hand wrapped around me I felt my erection poke into her palm, and I panicked and began twisting myself to hide it. She noticed my struggling as she stepped out to the porch and asked, “Whoa there wriggly worm, is everything okay? What are you doing? You keep wriggling like that and I might drop you!” 

“Uh.. I just.. um I just don’t feel like being picked up right now, can you put me down?”

I got a glimpse of her expression and her glare honestly scared me for a moment. Then it changed, and she pursed her lips in disappointment before saying, “Fine. You can listen to my day from the floor then.”

I felt relief for only a second, and then her hand opened, and she just dropped me to the floor without a hint of concern. I looked up at her, wide-eyed as I fell to the floor and she watched me with a look of smug satisfaction, as if I had earned this treatment. I bounced relatively harmlessly off the ground, although it did knock the wind out of me, and I lay on my back for a moment, looking up at her as she pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. Dazed for just a moment, it didn’t take long for my view to make me think about her stomping me out of existence, and as that fantasy crept in for the umpteenth time, my crotch responded as it seemed programmed to do. I quickly scrambled to my feet to hide it, and then she began talking. 

“Well, even if someone is an ungrateful little worm, it can’t ruin the good day I had. I really felt confident today, and it carried into my meeting. I got them to agree to basically everything I wanted, didn’t have to give up anything, and really made everyone see that it was my way or the highway. I was going to give you some credit for getting me started on the right ‘foot’ today, but now I think all the credit is going to stay with me. Maybe you can make it up to me with that foot rub tonight, extra special.” 

She looked down at me, one eyebrow raised, and then exhaled a stream of smoke. Terrifyingly hot, I could only nod with my head down, and hands in front of my crotch, hopefully looking contrite, and not like a little pervert hiding an erection.

“You look very cute and apologetic. Good… Sorry again about stepping on your food today, I hope it didn’t ruin it. Maybe I improved it though, I’m sure it was at least a different experience!” She let out a little chuckle, and as I reflected on how right she was, and how I hoped she never discovered how hopeless I was, I was staring at her bare feet in front of me. Such power contained in her toes, I could almost imagine all the bones of her foot working in tandem to perfectly support her, covered in such tough but supple flesh. I marveled like Da Vinci at the engineering of the human foot, appreciation only increased by my new vantage point, when the butt of her cigarette dropped between us, in front of her foot. My mouth dried instantly as I knew what was coming next, and silently thanked her for providing me this new point of view to witness it from.

Her foot lifted up and cast a shadow on the dimly glowing ember of the cigarette, and then she stepped down, letting it disappear beneath the ball of her foot as her heel raised and she twisted, grinding it underfoot. I could hear the paper fibers shred against the concrete surface of the porch, feel it slowly turn from a cigarette to an unidentifiable black smudge. I knew I was staring, but I couldn’t stop, I had to watch her destroy this thing that she had just used up. Time passed so slowly that it felt like her foot was turning slowly just for me to witness it. Then I let out a tiny gasp as she pulled her foot back, quickly mashing the rest of the black smudge in a streak from where she’d dropped it. 

Her foot lifted and then came down, heel first, sole up, exposing the blackened remains of that cigarette and then I walked towards her sole, feeling its pull. From above on high her voice came, “Oh, would you mind brushing off the rest of that so I don’t track it into the house?”

I continued forward and, in the shadow of her awesome sole, delicately began brushing away the soot and dirt from her magnificence. I felt lucky in so many ways to be there, and I leaned up and kissed the splotch on her sole, risking everything for that tiny opportunity to worship. I stepped out of her shadow and looked up, making immediate eye contact so intense I felt like I would melt into a puddle for her to dip her toes into. She looked down at me, just a tiny bit dismissive of my efforts, and responded with a curt, “Good. Inside we go now!” And I obeyed, rushing to her shoes and quickly making an effort to right them and begin bringing them back to her closet. I heard her move through the house with her pounding footsteps and then she called out, “Oh, did you clean up a little in the house? How considerate of you, I’m glad you’re not just a tiny little mooch now, and I see you ate every bit of that meal! Not even a crumb left, did you even lick the plate?”

She laughed after that last statement, and as I carried one heel to her closet I blushed, as she was closer to the truth than I wanted her to be. I rushed it to the closet and started with her second one, suddenly racing an imaginary clock, as I realized I might be able to get another secret show like yesterday. Maybe I was turning into a little voyeur but also.. I worked hard, I deserved a little show. Oof. That thought felt dirty, but as I currently had my face pressed into the sweaty insole of her second high heel while I hauled it to the closet, I was too horny to consider the ethics of it all. I put it into the closet and then hid myself, looking out into the room, and waited. My plot was quickly rewarded, as I heard her heavy footfalls move towards the bedroom and then she was in front of her dresser, perfectly framed.

Almost immediately the top came off exposing her simple nude bra, which she promptly removed and tossed onto the bed behind her. Her breasts were large, round and looked exactly as soft as they felt, beautiful pillows to rest a head on. I was a tiny bit surprised to see her just throw a t-shirt on over top of it, no bra to support her for the rest of the day. I assumed it was a comfort thing, and thought vaguely that her breasts were larger than my fiancé’s, which sparked a bit of guilt. It was immediately washed away as she stripped out of her pants, exposing the twin moons of her ass cheeks, separated by a pair of nude granny-style panties. She grabbed a pair of pajama pants, but before putting them on, she appeared to weigh something in her mind, and then pulled those panties down, exposing first her wrinkled brown asshole to me, and then her wonderfully hairy pussy. I loved the natural look, and was entranced by the slightly tawny reddish color of her pubes, looking at her much darker redd hair hanging down from her head as she bent over and extricated her feet from those panties. I forgot her deep red hair was dyed, and absently wondered if I could offer to help with that at some point. In the meantime, I took mental pictures of her beautiful bare legs and ass and filed them in the spank bank for tonight, before she pulled the pajama pants up and left the bedroom, completely commando under the shirt and pants.

That thought, her near nudity, would be incredibly difficult to forget for the rest of the night.

I rushed from my hiding spot and out of the bedroom, this time waiting to make sure I wouldn’t run into her around the corner and have another situation to explain to her. I heard her in the kitchen once more, starting work on dinner, and wondered what I could do for her in the meantime. I decided that since I’d been volun-tasked with another massage tonight, I might as well set up in front of the couch and get some supplies. I don’t think she had any massage oil, but I’m sure there was lotion in the bathroom, so I made my way and began searching. It took a bit of creativity and hard work, but I was able to shimmy open the under-sink cabinet and found not only lotion, but a tube of peppermint scented foot lotion that I ended up grabbing and bringing back to couch, alone with what looked like an old pumice stone file to work on any calluses she had on her feet. 

I made it back to the couch, positioned this little surprise in front of where she usually sat, and went to the dining room to wait. Not too long later I heard her call out, “Din-Oh! You’re already here! Great! You didn’t want to climb up my pants again today?” She chuckled after that and set down the plate in front of me, chicken, mashed potatoes and some asparagus. 

“Oh, did you want me to step on it again? I’m sure those potatoes could be mashed just a little bit more!” She laughed at this suggestion, and I fought back the urge to blurt out “Yes,yes, please crush it and let me lick it from your feet!” and just laughed along with her. I went to work eating with her, but ran into an issue of the chicken being just a little too tough for me to take satisfying bites. I couldn’t really wield a knife, so I just struggled to tear off what I could for a while before I became aware of her watching me with a bemused look. 

“Would you like a liiiiittle bit of help there, little man?”

I nodded yes, and then she went to work, and I watched yet another demonstration of the power disparity between us as her strong hands used her fork and knife to slice off chunks of chicken that would be easier for me to tear my own pieces off of. I watched her saw away at it for a while and then issued a meek, “Thank you,” before I got back to my meal. 

“Of course, pet. You just needed a tiny, little, insignificant, minute bit of help. Nothing at all for me!” She laughed again, although this time it felt much more like she was laughing at me instead of with me. 

Demonstrating my excellent appetite again, I finished not too far behind her, though she politely waited at the table for me to finish before collecting the dirty plates for the dishwasher. I rushed to the couch and stood next to my equipment, waiting for her to take her seat and put me to work. She entered the living room and stopped, put her hands on her hips and smiled, “Oh look at you! I get to be really pampered tonight, huh? You’re setting a high standard, I don’t know if I can go back to anything less! My feet are kiiiiiilling me after today too, so I hope you’re ready to really get to it!”

I nodded vigorously and gestured to the couch for her to take her seat. I started off with the pumice stone, forcefully filing away any bits of extra dead skin from her feet. Unfortunately, a lot of force for me did not feel like that much to her, and the dainty nature of my touch caused her foot to spasm and kick me after a few minutes, her heel jutting out and slamming into my unprepared stomach, sending me tumbling across the carpet to the base of the TV stand. 

“Oh my goodness, I’m sorry, you tickled me, you’ve got to have some good reflexes for this, are you alright?” 

She’d started to stand up as I recovered, and I waved her back as I labored to my feet. My lower ribs felt like they’d cracked on impact, and I was sure I’d felt a snap, but I seemed to be fine, just had the wind knocked out of me a little. I sauntered back to her foot, feeling better with each step, and continued my work. I saw her controlling herself from kicking again, although i got her good enough again that her toes plowed into me, driving me backwards into the carpet once more, though not as forcefully as the first time. A few minutes later, after I’d neatly filed away almost every callus, I was working on the pad of her big toe when she suddenly adjusted her feet, pointed and spread her toes, and grabbed my head between her big toe and the index one. I thought my pants would explode from my body with the force of my erection, but I went completely limp, offering no resistance to whatever she was doing to me. She adjusted a bit and suddenly my throat was against the web of her toes here, nestled deep in the crevice of her toe cleavage, and she looked at me as her foot lightly choked me. My face felt fat and red as she asked me, “Now, I think we’re done with the filing, right? I’m just a little tired of being tickled, and while the full service spa treatment is nice, I’m here to be massaged. So, time to start rubbing, right?” 

As she spoke, she tilted her foot back up on its heel, lifting me by the neck between her toes. I dropped the file and wrapped my hands around her toes to relieve some of the pressure from my neck while I attempted to frantically nod in agreement. She let me dangle there for a moment, for reasons that were not shared with me, and then she said, “Good. Get to work then!” And flared her toes, letting me drop back to the floor where I gasped and sputtered in her looming shadow. She could have easily killed me, hung me until death with just her two toes, and that scary scary fact… made me cum in my dumb little shorts. 

I hid the wet spot from her and grabbed the lotion, spending most of the next hour pushing my hands first into this oily scented petroleum jelly, and then spreading it all over her foot. It did combine with her natural scent to make a new, incredibly pleasant smell that I found very alluring, though I hated the feel of the oily lotion on my skin, and after nearly an hour I think the peppermint extract had both fried my sense of smell and seemed to be irritating my skin, my arms up to my elbow a lightly burning shade of pink. I’d done quite a bit of work, and decided, with luckily dried pants, that now would be a good time to ask for a bath, as I hadn’t washed up in a bit. 

She noticed me after a few moments of tapping, and reached down to grab me. “You did an excellent job, even with the calluses, I’m just a little ticklish. I'm glad you’re so tough! Now, what do you want, my little man?”

“Of course, no problem, I didn’t want to keep tickling you, it’s no problem at all, thanks for letting me fix it! Uh.. I’m a little dirty, and I’d love to take a bath, if it’s not too much trouble for you to set it up? I understand completely if you can’t or something, but I’d just like to go to bed clean tonight. If it’s not too much trouble. Please.”

I felt weird, like I was pleading my case to this entity that decided my fate, and the fact is that, I essentially was. I silently prayed for mercy, and that prayer was quickly answered as she happily responded, “Of course! I’d kind of forgotten about that, I’ll have to come up with a way to remember all your little needs too! Oh! Wait, have you been able to go to the bathroom? Are there any tiny messes I should know about?”

She looked at me, seemingly concerned, and I quickly answered, “No no no, nothing like that, I, uh.. I don’t need to go to the bathroom anymore? I think that’s one of the other things that’s changed about me? I guess? I’m really not sure, but I havent had to go at all, no matter what I eat or drink. One less thing to worry about!” 

She laughed and then brought me to the restroom, drawing up a hot bath for me in a shallow dish, and then said she’d be back again in 15 minutes, same as the last time. I heard her walk away after she closed the door and stripped, using a dollop of body wash to soap up and scrub myself as clean as I could. As I relaxed in the bath, the warm, sudsy water lulled me into a sense of comfort, and I decided to do what I enjoyed doing when I had my full-sized bath: jack off. I know, I was a shameless pervert, and I’d already finished so many times today, including that involuntary spasm when she choked me between her toes, but maybe this was another size-related change, as I seemed to just… always be ready to go. A part of me wished I could keep this stamina forever, but the rest of me just wanted to wildly masturbate again. I imagined her toes around my throat again, a vice gripping my neck, and imagined what would have happened if she just didn’t release me. I would never be able to escape her, so I knew I would be completely at her mercy, but I imagined what she’d do next. In my mind, I’d be looking at her as she looked down at me, indifferent to whether I lived or died. I think, for her own amusement, she’d watch my face turn red, then purple, and then watch as my life started to fade, my face turned blue, and my body went limp in her grasp. And then I wondered whether she would keep me there, until she literally choked the life out of my spamming body with her perfect toes, or whether, after I passed out, she would release me and leave me crumpled at her feet until I awoke for her to enact a new torture on me.

I was pumping furiously now, holding my breath, heart pounding in my ears as I stroked wildly, and then the door opened. I screamed, and she squeaked in surprise as I stood up and tried to cover my erect, bouncing cock. I knew that I was small, but there was no way she didn’t see everything, and I could feel my face turn red as I looked up at her. She seemed shocked, covering her mouth, her eyebrows raised, her other hand on the door, and then I heard her exclaim, “Hey, I have- Oh my gosh! I found new clothes, I was- I’m sorry, go ahead and finish, I’ll come back, I forget you’re a young man!”

The door slammed shut and I collapsed into the water and a whirlpool of shame. My future mother-in-law just saw me stroking my cock. How would I explain that to my fiancé? I blew exasperated bubbles and silently thanked god for the small mercy that she didn’t know what I was thinking about while I went at it. I pulled myself from the mini-tub and toweled off with the hand towel she’d given me, wrapping myself up and waiting for her return.

A few minutes later there was a knock on the door, and then it opened just a crack and she said, “Are you, uh, done?”

I yelled out, “Yes, I, uh, I’m ready to go.”

The door opened the rest of the way, and she walked in, eyes averted for a moment and then she looked at me covered up and shook her head. “You were really going at it, huh? I gave you a time, didn’t you know I was coming? You’re not a little pervert who wanted me to see that, are you? That’s called sexual assault, and I’d murder up any man who tried to do that to me and I’ll be damned before I let my daughter marry a man like that! So what do you have to say for yourself?”

She was glaring at me, and I wilted under her glare, and softly explained, “I’m sorry, I guess I lost track of time and the bath was just so comfortable that I forgot about my situation, and I just felt.. normal for a little bit. I really didn’t mean to.. I didn’t mean for you to see any of that. I’m sorry, I really really am.” 

She glared at me, for a very long time, and I fidgeted beneath her stern gaze until she sighed, “I understand. It must be hard for you and.. everyone has needs. I can’t blame you for taking care of yourself. Anyway, I found some more clothes for you, although calling them clothes might be a little.. generous.” 

With that, she produced three pairs of tight, shiny looking spandex underwear in gold, blue and pink. I blushed, and she said, “ I know, they’re not particularly modest, but I thought you might want more options than just two pairs of shorts.”

There was a long pause as she set them down and looked at me for a moment, and then turned to leave. As she started to close the door, she did turn and say over her shoulder, “You know.. my daughter did mention that you were.. well. At least you’ll be able to fill out those boyshorts.” 

She quickly closed the door behind her and suddenly I realized that she had just complimented my dick. I had no idea what to make of that, but.. I could certainly be proud of my boy. I tossed on one of the new threads, then put my slightly dirty GI joe shorts back on. A moment later, she knocked and then entered again, grabbing me from the counter and saying, “Well now that that’s all behind us, go head to bed, I’ve got to use the little ladies room, and there will be no barging in on my private moments.”

Her look was faux-stern and then she pushed me out the door and closed it behind her. Before I turned to leave I was vaguely aware that I could probably fit under the door if I wanted to, but obviously, that was a terrible idea. 

By the time I climbed into bed, she had finished her business, and I heard her washing up before bed. She came into my room to say goodnight and gently stroked my head with the pad of her finger, “Well, a long day today. But it was a good one, even with the.. hiccups. Halfway through the work week tomorrow, ‘hump day’ as they say. I’ll see you tomorrow, little man. Goodnight.”

She walked out of the room and I felt lucky she was so caring. Some part of me feared she would say “Good riddance!” and flush me away to my death, down the toilet for my shitty behavior. 

“Tomorrow I’ll be better,” I told myself, determined not to masturbate myself to sleep for the fourth day in a row. Late at night, I thought I heard soft panting in the darkness, growing louder for just a moment, and then stopping, a few hungry breaths in the night, before silence and sleep finally came.

The next morning went rightly the same as the previous two, waking up to the sounds of her thundering through the house. She walked with such power and purpose I felt like I had to admire it. She was a big woman, and completely unafraid to take up the space she deserved. I got out of the massive bed, and decided that I’d show my appreciation for the new ‘outfit’ by baring all, and wearing just the gold spandex for the day. It was surprisingly comfortable, and cradled my package relatively well. I felt a little weird, so underdressed, but as long as she didn’t pick me up and examine me, I felt like she wouldn’t see too much from her height. Or I hoped, at least. 

I dashed to her closet to set out some footwear for the day, standing square in the center and searching for something new. She mentioned how uncomfortable the heels were yesterday, and I decided that maybe something more comfortable and walkable would be good for today. I spotted two pairs of flats, one black with a decorative buckle across the top, the other a pretty red and white floral pattern with a peep-toe window. I knew the black would go better with her work clothes, but she deserved to stand out, and those floral ones really popped. And they’d show off that pedicure I worked so hard on. I dragged them to the center of the closet, and turned around, only to be greeted by her, leaning in the doorway, arms crossed and one bare foot flat against the ankle of her other leg. I smiled up at her, waved, and then made a “Tahdah!” gesture to the selected flats.

“An interesting choice today, little man.” She returned my smile and stepped into the closet, her dark charcoal gray skirt stopping just above the knee, a small slit baring a bit more of one thigh as she moved. Her shirt was some dark light blue blouse top, flowing in a way that accentuated her lovely breasts appropriately for the office. She was standing right over me now, and I watched her raise a foot and slip it into one of the flats, getting halfway in before she started really pushing down, and I stared, wide-eyed as her foot began twisting and mashing itself into the shoe. I could see the fabric of the shoe stretching and deforming as her wide foot filled it, and then her toes began approaching the peep window in front. She was twisting with such violence that I knew anything lucky enough to be under the sole, or even on the insole, would be completely obliterated by that force. Yet I saw she had her foot about 90 percent of the way in, unable to get her heel to cover that last 10 percent. 

The shoe lifted skyward with her foot and my eyes followed it as she reached down and grabbed the heel, stretching the flat slightly and slipping the rest of her foot in. But even as her foot came down again, I kept staring up at her. Her skirt had fluttered a bit, and I was now looking directly up it, into the darkness. Except.. it wasn’t too dark to get a view, and the view was.. not what I expected. 

I was staring up her skirt, and after a double and triple take, I was certain: she wasn’t wearing underwear, and I could see her bare, hairy pussy. I watched, and felt this primal yearning to be inside it, taboo’s and polite society be damned, but then my eyes flicked higher, and met her strong gaze. She seemed mildly interested in me, and my face flushed in embarrassment at being caught in my perversion, again, and then I realized her foot was violently forcing itself into her shoe again, right next to me. I looked at the writhing magnificent mountain of her foot and then looked back up again, seeing her gaze was completely focused on me as she ground her foot into the shoe. I gulped, and then made a decision that I felt like she wanted, regardless of personal risk. 

I approached the heel of her gyrating shoe, and it slowed, and then stopped, her heel just outside the cupped heel of the shoe. I grabbed the fabric of it, tough at it was at my size, and pulled hard, stretching it to hopefully make room for her to slip in. In response, her foot started slipping down again, and then my fingers were pinched between her heel and the shoe fabric. I grunted at first, and then grimaced in pain as the pressure grew, pinching my fingers there, and I was suddenly uncomfortably aware that she probably had enough force to read my fingers front my hands, or shatter them into unrecognizable shards of fleshy mush, without ever really noticing. But my fingers were trapped now, and it felt as if the tough skin of her heel was sanding the skin from them as she pushed down with that glacial slowness. I gritted my teeth, hoped there would be no permanent damage, and kept pulling. Soon enough, she pushed past the worst part, and then her foot slid the rest of the way in. I didn’t have time to pull my hands out before she twisted twice, settling in her foot and yanking me around with her heel for a moment. I finally extricated my hands and fell back, between her feet and staring directly at the ceiling.

Except, from my position, that just meant I was looking right up at her pussy. The skin on top of my hands was red, raw, throbbing, and in a few spots, missing, but I sat back and enjoyed the view for a moment, hoping she wouldn’t notice. I always had to look up at her, so maybe she wouldn’t make the jump that I was also looking up her skirt. I pondered this as I marveled at her plump pussy lips, and then I spotted a bit of reflection and.. glistening. I think her pussy was just a little… wet. 

My face flushed at the sight and I averted my eyes in reaction to what felt like forbidden knowledge as I racked my mind to wonder what turned her on like this? Light flooded me again as she stepped back slightly, now looking directly down at me. Nothing on her face betrayed either her arousal or understanding of what I’d seen, and she just said, “Great work, my tiny little helper, and you’ve made a great choice as well. Much more comfortable than Monday or Tuesday. But funnily enough I have a top that actually matches these shoes, so I think I’ll change into that and complete the outfit. Why don’t you go eat breakfast, it’s waiting for you.”

I didn’t move for a moment, still trying to process everything, and then she made it even harder, nudging me with the tip of her shoe, her huge painted toes pushing into my frail body for a moment, “Come on, I don’t need a little pervert watching me change, up and out of here, bug boy.”

That spurred me to life and action, mostly to hide my erection in these stupid gold panties, and I jolted upright and sprinted out of the closet and her room. I heard her hearty laugh behind me, and then followed, “Your little butt looks cute in those shorts by the way! Those should be your new house uniform!”

I gulped at the thought, thinking about how much harder it would be to hide my erections, and then again how being so close to naked while she was so fully clothed spoke to another level of power imbalance. It felt like another way I was very, very unequal to her. And that thought sent blood rushing to my pants, again. This was a cycle I was having problems getting away from. 

I was digging into my breakfast and eyeing the lunch plate on the floor, slightly disappointed it hadn’t been similarly crushed today. I heard her steps moving towards the kitchen and quickly debated pushing my food into her path with the hope she wouldn’t notice, but she made her way here before I could truly consider the options. She stood there, in a floral print top with three-quarter length sleeves that matched the print on her feet, a large gold necklace with big, flat medallions hanging from it completed her look. She smiled down at me and posed, her gold bangles dangling on her wrist and rings shining on her fingers. Knowing she wouldn’t hear me too clearly I made an exaggerated cheering motion and blew her kisses before taking a deep bow like an actor would at the end of a performance. She giggled a little and then said, “Tonight I think I’ll have to paint my fingernails, unless my little manservant wants to do it for me?”

I gulped and then bowed again, both to signify my agreement, and to hide my crotch from her view. Manservant? That word had weight that pressed its full context upon me. Was I just her little servant now?

“Of course, even with my comfy flats, I’ll need a good foot massage after a long day on my feet, so you are not absolved of your afternoon duties!” 

I didn’t look up at her, but I heard the thud of her feet approach me and then floral print filled my field of view, shiny red toes peeking out at the world. I looked up just in time to see her bend down, touch her finger to her lips, and then gently press that finger to my face as she made a little “Muah!” sound and then said, “Alright, goodbye now little man, be good today and be ready to work tonight! No lazy bones in this house! And I made sure to not step on your food today, so it should still be plenty good.”

She chuckled and stood without waiting for a response and was out the door moments later, leaving me alone in the house. I knew I’d get something done today, but I glanced toward the laundry room and realized that today would probably be laundry day when she got home. And I thought about her room, and how that dirty hamper might be a goldmine for a budding pervert like me. My schedule was set today, and I rubbed my crotch through my short shorts in anticipation. 

I thought I would take care of the kitchen today, but set out to go collect something from her dirty laundry to... entertain myself first. I wondered idly to myself about what I really expected to find, but something deep within me demanded something that carried her scent. Whether it was a dirty sock or some well-worn panties would probably be a spur of the moment decision.

I entered her bedroom and looked right at the clothes hamper, overflowing with laundry, a few odds and ends spilling to the floor. I made my way to a dingy white sock on the ground, the bottom brown and gray in a pattern that exposed the shape of her toes. I looked around, knowing I was alone but still feeling the shame of my actions, and then leaned in and took a huge whiff. Surprisingly, the smell wasn’t nearly as pungent as I expected, or honestly hoped. I glanced around, and saw a pair of purple panties laying nearby that looked promising. I felt even more shameful looking for these, but my bouncing cock wouldn’t lie, and the panties were within easy reach..

I approached the purple treasure and touched the soft cotton worn thin by years of use. I took a big inhale and was again surprised at the lightness of the aroma, but as my hands traced the fabric, I realized I should smell the part that had been against her most aromatic bits. I ruffled through the panties and stepped inside them, coming face to face with the little reinforced section that had sat against her pussy. There were the stains that always accompanied panties with such a long life, faded and washed, but never forgotten, and this cloth section held a much more powerful scent than the rest. I recognized it as the same, not-quite sour or sweet musk he had smelled through her pants when I had climbed her huge body, and the memory interacted with the smell, forcing me to my knees in this panty prison I stroked myself excitedly. The taboo nature of what I was doing probably made it hotter, I thought, attempting to rationalize my own frantic arousal. And then I exploded, pressing my face against that pussy fabric, thrusting forward and squirting my jism to on the stains made by her cunt. 

I collapsed, and as the panty fabric fell around me, I smelled something different. Still the heavy, musky smell of her most private parts, but tinged with an earthy, bitter tang. My eyes searched in the dark and I spotted, above the pussy section, some faint yellow stains on the bit that would have spent its life buried deep in her asscrack. I loved eating my fiancé’s ass, and it, once upon a time, had not been uncommon for me to bury my face in it as she laid on the couch and we watched TV while my tongue lovingly lapped at her tasty asshole. The smell was the same, and my tongue slipped out without a thought and licked the bit of fabric that lived against her asshole. The flavor was delicate for being so rich, the memory of a bitter truffle nestled there for me to find. I wiped my face on it and jacked off again, aggressively beating my cock as I imagined being trapped in her panties, face mashed against her flavorful asshole. 

A body-wracking orgasm shook me, and I lay there after, panting heavily in the empty room. My needs were maddening, and I was a slave to my own overactive hormones. I peeked out from her panties and eyed the hamper, imagining the dank riches within, and decided that it was worth the effort to find something more, although what more I could want I couldn’t yet picture. 

Climbing the bin was not particularly difficult, my small muscles still large enough by plenty to carry my small form up the side of the wicker basket, and I straddled the edge, looking down to the spoils within the cloth liner. There, posed perfectly in my eye line, almost dirty bras, shorts, pants, skirts, panties and socks, was my target, I knew it immediately. There was a single white sock, one of the no-show kind that barely stretched over her toes and cupped her heel, to be worn with flats or heels where the toe cleavage would be exposed and the sides were cut low. That was my target, because I knew any shoe that was worn with those socks was a shoe that would make her feet sweat, and those socks would store every drop of that sweat. I jumped into the hamper, sinking deeper than I expected in the clothing cloud, and stretching myself out to rise to the top. My intuition proved fruitful when I touched the tip of the sock and felt that it was still damp, having not even completely dried itself of her glorious sweat. I greedily pulled it to my face and put it in my mouth, sucking and pulling a single bead of her cold, concentrated sweat into my mouth, savoring it in the same breath that I agonized at the taste. It was sharp, acidic, sour and salty, but it was unmistakably her, and I lost myself in that moment. 

I realized as I carried it with me and climbed from the hamper that I had spent thirty minutes in there, masturbating with reckless abandon as I covered myself with the remnants of her sweaty feet. As I straddled the edge of the bin and looked at the clock on her nightstand, I noticed something I hadn’t before. Next to her bed, exposed and obviously getting used, laid both an instantly recognizable wand-style vibrator, the big rubbery head looking well used, and next to it was a large, thick dildo. It was a bit taller than me, I guessed about 8 inches, and a bit thicker than me too, but my first thought was that it was eerily comparable in size. Both items out and within easy reach heavily implied active use, and I flashed back to the faint moans I’d heard the other night. 

I dared to wonder if she had been using her.. toys, and if so, was it just a lonely widow fulfilling needs once tended to by her husband, or.. was it a woman who was aroused by being treated and pampered like such a goddess, taking care of a situation that her little servant had created. 

I felt like it was obviously the former, but the idea that it could be the latter, that I could have worked her up enough that she had to take care of it.. I fell back into her hamper and took another thirty minutes to finish myself off and climb back out. My body didn’t seem to produce waste any more, but it seemed to have an endless supply of cum. Sweat too, I noted as I climbed out of the bin, exhausted and let myself fall to the floor, prize one hand. 

I carried it around with me for the rest of the day, sucking on it or taking a deep breath with my face buried any time I felt my energy lag through the day. The kitchen floor was relatively easy to clean, the little scraps of food annoying, but there weren’t as many hiding spots for dirt as the living room had, so I finished down there earlier than I expected. I wondered what to do next, and while the temptation was to hang myself with her socks and jack off until I died of dehydration, I decided cleaning the kitchen counters was a better use of my time that I could still feasibly do. Collecting all the little scraps of food and dust wasn’t too bad, and it was nice to be able to brush all the little bits off the counter and directly into the open trash can. I wrapped her sock around me like a sash, covering me in her perfect stink like a majestic halo, and set to work. 

Moving the cutting board around to get anything under it was a bit annoying, but I found that I was proportionally stronger than I’d been at my true height, and thought about how the main reason ants were so proportionally strong is that the just had to lift less muscle than a bigger animal, like how the bigger a rocket ship got, the more fuel it needed just to carry the weight of the fuel it had. It felt a bit like a crappy super power, but at least it was occasionally fun to play with. 

The stove was interesting, as I could actually get under the grill for the gas burners and really get at the neglected bits, but using soap or scrubbers presented a different problem for me. The kitchen sink had a garbage disposal, and I’d seen too many horror movies to risk getting anywhere near it, no matter how safe I knew it was logically. I opted to clean what I could, scraping and scratching at that stuck on muck for a long long time.

I was toiling away so mindlessly that I didn’t notice the front door open, and I only barely heard her footsteps thud through the house and enter the kitchen in time to stand up and turn around. 

“Joe, where are you? My favorite little masseuse wasn’t waiting by the door when I walked in, are you okay?” She was standing in the doorway, looking around on the floor for me, and when I moved to look at her she seemed to notice and looked up at me, concerned at first and then confusion spread across her face. She walked over to the stove and I stood up between the grate to smile and wave, my hands grimy with the dirt I’d cleaned up so far.

“Looks like you’ve been working! The floor looks clean, did you get the counters too? And it looks like you’ve been doing good work on the stovetop. We’ll get you cleaned up, want to step outside for a smoke with me first?”

I nodded, climbing up and balancing myself on the metal grates, but when I looked up at her, I saw her furrowed eyebrows and followed her eyes to my chest, where I was still wearing her dirty sock as a sash across my chest. Blood rushed to my face and I looked up at her, wide-eyed in fear. 

“Is that.. one of my socks?” She leaned down a little, examining it, and I made a feeble attempt to cover it, but since it was wrapped across my body I couldn’t do much. “Where did you get that? And.. why are you wearing it?”

My mind raced for an excuse, but when I looked at her face, I freaked out about the consequences of lying to her, and blurted out the truth, or at least a version of it. 

“I, um, I went into your room and, uh, grabbed it. I just.. I get lonely in the house sometimes, so I got something to, um.. something to help me think of you!”

I looked up at her with all the sincerity that I could muster, and couldn’t stop myself from shaking just a bit as I looked at her suspicious face.

“Mmmm.. and you had to get a dirty sock for that?”

She cocked an eyebrow at me and crossed her arms. I could hear her foot tapping on the floor, and squirmed in front of her before I offered a semi-plausible reason.

“It uh.. umm, w-well, it’s a little embarrassing, but, uh, I, I rub your feet a lot, so, the, uh, the.. smell, it reminds me of you.” I looked down, embarrassed that I had to admit I enjoyed the smell of her feet, but I knew I could never let her know how I’d jacked off to that same scent.. among others.

The only sound for a moment was her slow, tapping foot. The tension weighed heavy on my shoulders, and my eyes started watering as I looked down, crushed by the idea that I’d disappointed her in some way.

“Well. I’m.. glad you found something to remind you of me. I’ll be very busy at work tomorrow, but on Friday, maybe I’ll take you in to work with me. For now, go put my sock away.”

I nodded quickly, and leapt from the stovetop, landing on the floor in a tumble. I brushed myself off and looked right at her tapping foot, encased in the flats she most likely would have worn the sock I stole with. I stopped for a second, and looked up, only to revert my gaze down when I made uncomfortable eye contact with her. The look on her face was just.. She had looked down at me as if she was watching a roach scurry away. I ran away, towards her bedroom to return my pervert’s prize. 

I couldn’t believe she’d caught me with her sock, but at least she didn't know the full extent of what I’d done with it. If she’d caught me masturbating.. The death of the roach flashed before my eyes. “She.. she would never do that,” I thought to myself, but I felt like I was trying to convince myself more than anything else. In her bedroom, I climbed up the wicker hamper quickly, untying the sock and tossing it back in the basket. I turned, and glanced once more at the dildo and vibrator on her nightstand. I felt my face flush, thinking once again about her masturbating, and then I felt chills all over when I realized that now she knew I’d gone in her room, and when she came here to change out of her work clothes, she’d see her.. Toys, and know that I probably saw them too. I had no idea how she would react, and I considered putting them both away to avoid the problem entirely. But the idea of getting close to the things she’d used on her vagina caused a dramatic reaction from my cock, pushing against my tights, and I jumped from the basket to run away before my lust overwhelmed me. 

I looked around for her, but as I passed the front door, I saw her standing just outside the screen, facing away from me, puffing away as she looked into the yard. I watched her for a moment, admiring the powerful silhouette she cut with her legs spread in a strong, sturdy stance, before I tapped lightly at the bottom of the door to let her know I was there. She looked over her shoulder, and when she looked down and spotted me, she reached back and pulled the door open a crack, enough for me to get out and join her, but it was a tight squeeze. As I squirmed through the gap, I was certain she did this on purpose, though I couldn’t tell if it was just petty revenge, or if she wanted to humiliate me, or if it was some other nefarious reason. Regardless, I squeaked through and tumbled to the ground. I was in the process of standing up when her cigarette butt landed just in front of me, and I barely had time to comprehend it when her black ballerina flat slammed on top of it and violently ground it out of existence. The force of the impact pushed a wall of air at me and knocked me flat on my back. I looked up to her face and saw her looking directly at me as she violently twisted her foot on top of that cigarette, and I wilted under her scorching gaze, involuntary whimpers squeaking out. 

“Well well well,” she started, her voice filled with irritation while she continued mangling that cigarette, surely reducing it to dust beneath her by now, “So the little thief finally makes his way out here.”

I gulped, still laid on my back in fear, and then got to my knees, clasped my hands, and begged for forgiveness. I know while she was standing up it would be much harder for her to hear me, but I yelled up anyways, “I’m sorry! I didn’t think about how that might be, uh, might be breaking your trust! Please, forgive me, it won’t happen again, I promise, let me make it up to you, I just wanted something that smelled like you to keep me company throughout the day!”

Her foot stopped grinding, and then she tapped it twice in annoyance, and I briefly glimpsed the remains of her smoke. She had so thoroughly stomped it that it was nothing but a black smudge on the concrete porch, little tiny white fibers wedged into the thin tread of her flats. She sighed loudly, and told me, “I just don’t like my privacy being violated like that. If I’d known you were getting that lonely, or if you’d asked, I would have been happy to give you something to keep me close to you.”

She paused, then tapped her foot in front of me one more time, “Not a sock though. But, since you seemed to want to spend all day with my footsweat smell on you, I’ve come up with your punishment.”

Punishment? She was looking down at me, and grinning, her smile more devious than I’d expected, and I stammered out, “W-wh-a-what?”

“These flats,” she started, tilting one foot up on the toe of the shoe and displaying the entire thing to me, “These flats make my feet sweat, a lot. On top of that, today I wore them to the office with no socks, so they're extra sweaty. And since you wanted to spend all day with my sweaty foot smell around you, I’ve decided you get to spend the evening in it too.”

“What do you, what do you mean?” I was confused, but also worried about how my uncooperative body would respond to being exposed to her strong smell when it was.. Fresh.

“I mean that you are going to spend the rest of your day in my smelly flat. You’re going to eat dinner while you’re standing in my shoe, and you’re going to sit in it while you’re rubbing my feet tonight. We’ll see how you feel about sweaty socks after that.”

Still on my knees, I dropped my head dejectedly, not really responding to her as I considered how hard my evening was about to get. There was movement in my peripheral vision, and then I looked forward to see her pull the foot that had destroyed the cigarette out of her shoe. As she freed her blood red toes, she spread them right in front of me, letting the air flow through them, and letting the pungent aroma of her footsweat infect the air around me. Fresh, it was sharper, almost burning my small eyes with the power, and I could practically taste the salt in the damp air. 

“Get in.”

The firmness of the order surprised me, and then before I could respond, her foot moved over me. My erection almost ripped right through my pants as my fantasies pounded inside my skull, and then I felt her toes touch my back and began pushing me forwards towards the empty shoe. I popped to my feet and dove into her shoe, worried about her feet touching me too much and actually making me cum in my stupid underwear, and I felt the dampness of her insole as it radiated heat upwards at me. The scent of her surrounded me, overwhelmed me, and made my heart pound so hard I thought it was about to beat its way out of my mouth. I felt dizzy, and I couldn’t tell if it was from how horny it made me, or if it was because the stink of her sweaty shoes was actually making it hard to breathe. The air did feel thick and damp, and I was acutely aware that it carried her odor as it inflated my lungs.

“Good.” Her other foot slipped out of the other shoe, and she picked up both, sending me tumbling towards the toe as I braced myself inside it. “If you do something like this again, I’m going to make this shoe your bed instead.”

She glanced into the shoe with that threat as she walked inside, and I just nodded in understanding, trying to keep myself braced in the shoe to avoid falling out, and to contort my body so she couldn’t see my throbbing cock in this tight gold spandex. If she made me sleep in this I worried the smell of her would seep into my brain and melt it into horny goop forever. 

Soon enough we were in the kitchen, and she set the shoe on the counter where she wouldn’t be cooking, and started prepping. I wasn’t used to this view of her making meals, and watching her work was a little mesmerizing, expertly dicing up some peppers and onions, or spatchcocking a chicken, crushing the breastbone flat and quickly trimming the fat with her knife. I knew being surrounded by her scent was fucking with my mind, as to me it felt like she was dominating the food, crushing and chopping lesser things for her to cook and devour. Some part of me imagined myself as the chicken, feeling her flatten my chestbone to my spine and splitting me wide for roasting. “Fuck, what’s wrong with me,” I thought, but the thought didn’t stop the fantasies. Next I was the onion, skin peeled away and then rapidly chopped, body slowly being sliced to pieces from foot to head. I was dizzy, but couldn’t stop myself from picturing myself in front of her, begging for my life, and she’d ignore my cries, slice my limbs off, baste me in a sauce, and toss me in the over and watch me roast. I could see her teeth just tearing into me, pulling chunks of my body away and swallowing, sending the bits of me down to her stomach to dissolve away in acid. 

“What are you thinking about, over there in time out, little man?”

Katie called over to me, not really looking up, but she snapped me out of my death spiral so I could think of a response. 

“I, uh, you’re a really good chef, I was just watching how fast you work.”

She smiled a bit at my compliment, and looked at me with a bit of a friendly eyeroll, and then mockingly pointed the knife at me, saying, “Flattery will get everywhere except out of that shoe, mister. Be good or you’ll be on my chopping board next!”

She laughed at what I hoped was a joke, and yet.. didn’t hope? I couldn’t think, my damn head was clouded by the fog of lust her scent aroused in me. I was infected with horrible desire, and I didn’t know how to handle it. Hiding in her shoe, my hips flexing up and down, wanting to hump the damn insole of her shoe and imagine my thousand different deaths. But I couldn’t risk her discovering, which she obviously would with me just a few feet away. I felt like I was slowly.. losing who I was before. I didn’t know where all of these dreams were coming from but.. I couldn’t do anything about it, right now at least. 

She kept cooking, and it wasn’t long until I was at the table with her, seated in her shoe, enveloped in her scent, waiting to dig in. She started eating, and began telling me about her day, and the things she had to get her team to fix, and had a lot to say about a young man named Michael. 

“He’s as stupid as he is handsome. If he wasn’t such a nice face to have on the team when we presented things, I’d have terminated him long ago. I have to keep him firmly under my thumb or he fucks everything up.”

I tried hard to listen to her, but I was having heart palpitations, due to every bite of my food so covered by the sweaty smell of her foot that every bit tasted just like her feet. As if every bit of my food had been smeared between her toes before it entered my mouth. And my cock was dripping because of that stupid fact. 

“Maybe you could teach him how to rub my feet. Then he’d at least be useful for something.” She snorted at her own joke as she gestured her fork at me. I imagined her stabbing me with it and dangling me over her mouth before pushing me in and chewing me up. 

“You’re fucked,” my voice echoed in my head. 

I managed to make it through dinner without cumming in my spandex, barely, but every breath I took now was flavored with her scent, as if it coated the inside of my lungs and nose. She set the dishes in the sink and I stayed kneeling in her shoe, waiting for her to come back, pick me up, and bring me to the living room with her. 

She plopped the shoe down, then put her feet in front of me, wiggling her toes in anticipation. 

“Well, you know what’s next. You can still do a great job here at your size, so hop to it!”

I obeyed her, a little delirious, and I felt myself lean into her foot as I rubbed, about to plant a wet kiss on her sole before I remembered where I was and freaked out, pulling back and focusing on massaging as I bit my lip to stop it from happening again. It was, thankfully, uneventful, she didn’t threaten me, I didn’t almost make out with her foot, my neck didn’t end up between her toes, I was just able to do my job. My job of.. rubbing her feet. She took deep, slow breaths above me as I wondered if this is what my life would be now, just a.. a foot massager for this giant woman? Not an awful life, but, no, no, I had to have normalcy again.. hopefully. 

The bedtime routine went smoothly as well, although she kept me in her shoe and carried it into the restroom with her, saying that my “punishment lasts until bedtime, no exceptions.”

Watching her brush her teeth and wash her face made me miss my independence, the ability to just.. take care of myself. I looked on wryly, and then glanced down at her feet and thought to myself, “Those are the only things I can take care of now.”

She took me out of the shoe finally, and said, “I hope you learned your lesson. Tomorrow I’ll leave you something to remember me with while I’m at work. And then Friday I think I’ll just bring you with me!” 

She smiled, tucked me into the bed, and left the room. In the darkness as I settled in, I realized that I’d spent so long wrapped in her footsweat that I reeked of her, and it made it hard for me to stick to the promise I made myself yesterday. Here, alone in the dark with her smell all over me, I succumbed to my urges, and reimagined the day, imagining myself as the cigarette she’d stomped with such prejudice, or as the insole of her flag, stepped on all day and drowning in the sweat from her feet. 

Then, in the quiet of night, I heard a low, mechanical buzz, and I imagined myself as the vibrating wand that I was certain was sliding all around the perfect folds of her pussy, being pressed into her without care for my survival. Her pussy would be dripping wet, slathering me in her viscous juices, and I thought about instead being her dildo, sliding into her, slowly and gently at first, and then faster and faster, the walls of her cunt gripping me tighter and tighter until the pressure was almost crushing as she pistoned violently in the night. I screamed “Oh god!” and bucked my hips to the ceiling, cumming so hard it was almost painful. In the distance, over my own heavy painting, the buzzing sound had stopped.