Immobile and rigid as a toy soldier while he stood in the corner of the palatial living room, Cody was somewhat surprised that his racing heartbeat wasn’t causing his hyper-realistic four-inch-tall body to vibrate. Then again, he’d wished to not just resemble Diane’s officially-licensed Royal Footman mechanical mini-butler, but actually become it. And as unlikely as it was that his longtime desire would come true, there was no other explanation for where he now found himself.

The only things keeping him from outright panic was the fact that he’d only wanted to shrink in disguise at Diane’s feet for a single day, just to get a taste, and also the fact that his fetishistic yearning was on overload, now that he was so close to getting what he wanted. It had been many months of visiting his girlfriend’s stepmother’s house since he first glimpsed that lucky little automaton, which she’d nicknamed Charlie, cheerfully given orders to massage her soles and primp her tired toes, and ever since then, Cody had almost-nightly dreamed of temporarily trading places with the thing. At the sound of footsteps thudding resonantly through the house, and even quivering his inanimate body, his pulse skipped another beat.

That had to be her.

“Charlie!” Diane called out with pleasant lyricism, almost in the way she always greeted Ashley and Cody when they came over to visit. Suddenly she appeared in the living room doorway, looking directly at the object she believed to be her incredibly-lifelike attendant. Meanwhile, Cody was overcome with admiration and lust. At five-foot-one, Ashley’s stepparent was rather petite when viewed from a normal stature, not bone-thin but trim and alluring, especially in her beguiling smile and the way her golden locks framed her face; being only thirty-four, also, she possessed a youthful “mom” energy that made her all the more magnetic, and doubly so for Cody whenever he watched her nonchalantly giving Charlie instruction to work out kinks in her bare heels.

Now that he inhabited the four-inch robot, however, Cody felt he was staring up at a beautiful titan, powerful and angelic, and one worthy of his devotion. Though he was grateful to be so convincingly camouflaged, with no risk of Diane discovering his true identity, it was almost a shame he couldn’t independently move his body to offer even greater passion in whatever task she blessed him with. He doubted Charlie’s programming was taking full advantage of this opportunity to worship at feet like Diane’s.

“Come here,” she stated, and immediately Cody’s body marched briskly across the floor. Without even checking to see he was coming, Diane pivoted toward the couch, and the transformed little fellow savored the best view he’d ever received of those cutesy size-5.5 feet ponderously shuffling away, now enlarged to blemishless creamy-white works of art longer than his whole body by a good margin. He drank in the sight of every delicate wrinkle deepening along her plush sole flesh in time with the arching ascent, the way the light spilled along the textures beneath, and the splaying of those squat juicy-ended toes each much bigger than his whole head. Just as the giantess took an appropriately-regal seat in an armchair high above, and Cody was thoroughly enamored, he stopped speed-walking directly in front of her enormous feet. He’d heard her speak those same words, in that same sunny tone, to Charlie so many times, that he could hardly believe he’d finally get to experience the rest of what this ultra-advanced foot-pet was treated to every day.
“Ready to do what you do best?” she asked.

Cody paused briefly, realizing his voice, unlike his movement, wasn’t automatic to Diane’s whims, because no words came out unbidden. Recalling the last time he’d witnessed Charlie in action, though, he did his best mimic:

“Yes, ma’am. At your service.”

“Perfect. I know the day’s not even over, but God, I’ve had a full one already… cleaning around the house, then running errands, and I’m really ready for some “me” time,” Diane said. Though he knew she had no idea she was speaking to her stepdaughter’s boyfriend, Cody still delighted in being addressed by the gargantuan queen of the household, especially since he’d of course never had the chance to see her alone with Charlie before. As she spoke, the blonde’s soles both restlessly shifted from side to side, pre-massaging against the carpet fibers, while her toes flared and playfully crossed one another like a warm-up. “So I think you’d better get on your knees.”

Though startled by this, since Cody was used to Diane giving a politer request that Charlie please start rubbing her plump-bulbed digits, he didn’t have to worry about showing his surprise, since the Royal Footman’s body dutifully obeyed instantaneously, dropping into a deep bow. While it was unexpected, Cody felt an even greater illicit thrill, with his face poised an inch over Diane’s thickest toe.

“That’s good. You really do look much better suited for your job, when you’re bent over like that,” she commented, just as kindly. “I think I’d order you to walk on all fours everywhere all the time, if I wasn’t concerned about you getting around slower. And that would get to be such a bore. So, I’m prepared to make that sacrifice and let you walk around like a real boy, if it means you get to my feet all the quicker. But, I didn’t buy you just to have you stare at me like a thirsty little dog. Start licking my toes, you sad thing, and as usual, don’t stop until you’ve cleaned every speck of filth off.”

Cody’s enslaved programming forced him into action right away again, lurching his head down and pressing his ready tongue flush to the nearest pithy grid-lined curve of her workday-scented big toe. He was pretty sure he’d have needed a moment to compose himself, if not for this control over his every artificial atom. Strange though it was to hear Diane speaking so condescendingly to something she only believed was a humanoid appliance, it was also undeniably seductive to be treated like this, in the same sick kind of way which made the shrinker crave hunkering down prostrate in service at the feet of his S.O.’s stepmother. His heartbeat and libido leapt as “his” tongue was raked back and forth in an efficient farmland-tilling patterns over the squishy edifice of that largest toe.

The flavor, admittedly, wasn’t as fulfilling as the little guy had hoped in his fantasies. Then again, he supposed it was foolish of him to guess that licking the floor-grit, insole fuzz, and oozed toeprint oil off the foot of a giantess was going to taste like a fine dessert, but this was beyond what he’d mentally prepared for. Her feet were warm still, aromatic of leather and carpet dreck, not to mention the confined perspiration gelled between her wiggly toes, and he had no choice but to huff up that salty essence while tending to the whole front, sides, and even underside of Diane’s bulkiest digit, before moving to the next with that same vigor. Still, the sensual act itself was enough for him to overlook the harsh taste, at least at first, because it was every bit as wonderfully degrading as he’d envisioned. Cody also guessed it was fortunate that he didn’t have to rely on his own judgment of how to give Diane’s foot a tongue-bath, because Charlie’s automatic instincts made sure every square inch of her noticeably unwashed skin was firmly scoured by his tongue.

Diane seemed to be tapping away on her cell phone now, though Cody couldn’t halt in his duties to look up and check. She at least hadn’t spoken to him for a while, which fit right in with the way he’d seen her treat Charlie during family gatherings, giving him his orders and then promptly forgetting he existed. Over the course of a quarter-hour of high-speed licking, during which he began to long for a break and possibly mint mouth wash to bleach away the stagnant zest of Diane’s dirt-glazed peds, Cody had only covered five her toes. Without so much as a pause to draw clean breath, then, he pounced to the neighboring foot and began the process again on her mirror-image set of giant squirming piggies.

If not locked into this robotic dance, Cody would’ve definitely been fighting his gag reflex and taking a lengthy rest by now. While he enjoyed the sensation itself of fondling the giantess’s beefy toepads with his tongue, he actually wished to take it much gentler, and at least spare himself some of the grimy zip soaked into her peachy foot flesh. Still, “Charlie” was programmed only to go for hard jaw-exhausting laps with barely an instant’s respite between sucking up bitter artifacts of Diane’s day sprinkled across her skin. Nevertheless, Cody was sure he could get through this single day with his dignity intact, having had a mostly-enjoyable erotic miracle take place, and maybe adjust his fantasy expectations in the future for how nice it actually was to aggressively lick a gigantic woman’s balmy dust-treated foot.

That expectation was broken again, however, when right as he finished cleansing the tenth toe, Cody was struck hard in the face by an object from a fractional-inch away. In hindsight, it should’ve been obvious that Diane had gingerly kicked him using the grungy bulwark of her big toe, but it felt so much like the impact of a car airbag, it took the four-inch robot man an instant to recover his thoughts, after sprawling impotently on his back like an overturned baby turtle. This body may have had impressive endurance for toe-suckling, but it was more obvious than ever just how fragile Cody had become.

“Oh, I swear, I never do get tired of doing that,” Diane swooned, going into a giggle-fit and clutching a hand over her heart. She shook her head, tsking at the helpless non-being she’d just booted over in thanks for all his gnarly tongue-scraping labors. More alarmingly, her entire broad-arched foot lifted off the ground, her pinkish digits waggling as they slowly hovered over the four-incher’s prone shape. “I don’t know why. Maybe because that blank expression you always have on your face, no matter what I do to you, just makes it even more hysterical. It’s like you want to tell me to stop, but you can’t, because… well, I’m the owner, and you’re the Footman. I literally gave you life. If I hadn’t bought you, then you’d just be sitting on a shelf, collecting dust. An empty little toy, just a pitiful shell, without a purpose. Well, I suppose someone else could’ve bought you, but… what a waste it would be, if you weren’t put to good use as often as possible.”

Prior to this moment, Cody would’ve been more turned on than ever at being talked down to by Diane in that unchanging upbeat-tone, but with the repulsive whiff of her toes still smeared in his mouth and his head dizzily stinging from that head-on punch to her freshly-licked toe brawn, his heart was now stampeding out of fear rather than horniness. Especially once Diane swung her entire colossal size-5.5 ped overhead, using the doughy wrinkle-stippled island of her sole alone to completely encompass him in shadow and block off the view to her face above. Although, judging by the lilting snickers still emanating from above that ceiling of her dingy arch slope, Cody surmised this behavior was not only on purpose, but all part of the normal routine.

Maybe, just maybe, he’d made a massive mistake in wishing for this.

“I’m not sure I even need to give you the orders now, Charlie. You must know them all by heart, or at least have them stored in your memory. But, like I said. I really don’t ever get tired of playing with you. Ready? Try to fight back now.”

Diane’s sole trounced down in one brutal stamp, burying Cody beneath a hefty, humid mattress of meaty underfoot force. She’d given him the order, which meant that he did pathetically rebel as she commenced grinding and squashing him down with just enough restraint to avoid breaking her favorite toy in the sour-scented chaos. Cody’s robotic limbs flailed and pushed back with all he had, but he could tell right away that she didn’t actually want him to have a chance of affecting her with his feeble resistance. Her laughter said it all. This was all pure entertainment, and probably a relaxing rubdown for her naked arch as well, though for the disguised little man suffering from her stride, it was a terrifying adrenaline rush.

Logically, Cody had to guess that Diane did this to Charlie quite often, which meant she probably knew how hard was too hard to step on him. But what if today just so happened to be the day she went too far? She could so easily pulverize her stepdaughter’s lover into a grisly mess of computerized bits under her foot, and without ever knowing what became of the real Cody, toss his robotic corpse in the trash and purchase another to pick up the toe-licking slack.

“That’s good. Just how I like,” Diane commended with purr, though her voice took on a vindictive sneer now as well. “Don’t stop fighting, but get back to licking. There’s plenty for you to work on down there, I’m sure.”

Cody had no choice but to submit to this command also, and strange as it felt to be so pointedly operating all his limbs and tongue on autopilot, he did so despite the almost-immediate exhaustion of trying to battle and make out with the bottom of Diane’s foot at once. His arms and legs kept tussling with pudgy sole wrinkles, getting no more of a result than if his body was made of spaghetti, while his tongue ejected to keep faithfully wetting down this wider, thicker, and much more violent region of the giantess’s murky ped. Though all Cody could see now was the shadowy slab of rosy-white sole bearing ruthlessly down upon him, he could hear Diane’s mocking chuckles above turning gradually to soothed sighs. Despite being brought apparent pleasure by her robo-butler, though, she showed him no mercy, and if anything pressed down yet harder at this intensifying of her contentment, until Cody’s limbs could only pointlessly gyrate under the soft musculature of that arch, while his tongue rigorously baptized the ball of her foot.

Fouler sweat-spiced flavors assaulted Cody’s gullet, and his entire body was starting to feel like a sardine in a can, continually compressed to the point of flattening beneath the giantess whom he once thought couldn’t have even harmed a fly. And maybe she still would be kinder to bugs, but since she thought he was only her emotionless sensationless four-inch servant, Charlie seemed to be the conduit for all Diane’s more domineering impulses. It was like she could only keep up the lovely smiley-faced stepmom façade by purging frustrations and playful sadism on this thing which had no power or will to stop her from faux-crushing him, or at least Cody could only guess that was the case, as he struggled to maintain consciousness while still hungrily licking up liquid foot-salt from her spongy sole.

He’d started having second thoughts while scraping his taste buds over her toe bulges, but there was no denying it now: Cody was done. Not even his deep-rooted macrophiliac desires could overcome the sensory revulsion of all the punishment he was receiving now. His nose was scorched by a concentrated smog of dank fumes released from between toes and out of every tessellating sole dimple. The briny flavors leeching from her porous ped flesh were making his repelled tongue numb, though still not enough to deprive him of tasting every drop of her unclean ripeness either. And while Charlie’s robotic constitution meant it wasn’t quite agony to be stamped and pounded underfoot, it was still an unsettling experience, claustrophobic while making his whole frame creak at once. Cody didn’t know how, but he simply had to get out of this goddamned wish as soon as possible. But since he couldn’t move his body without permission, and wouldn’t have had the strength to overpower one of Diane’s feet even if she ordered it, his options were frightfully limited.

“You know, people like to go on and on about certain inventions, and the way they improved life by leaps and bounds… vaccines, air conditioning, computers, whatever… but for my money, whatever genius created you, you nasty little foot-licker, deserves a Nobel prize,” Diane cooed. Her tone was sarcastic, but Cody could tell she also truly meant it when she expressed how much she valued him, or rather his semi-pliant body and inability to refuse her demands. Grasping the sides of her armchair and lulling her head back, the five-foot-one leviathan moaned again in satisfaction, stretching herself into a more spread-out posture, and simultaneously pushed down on her sole pet all the firmer. She ran her fingers through her hair while continuing to make sounds Cody guessed he’d never hear his girlfriend’s stepmother making in his whole life, and especially not while she was tormenting him with the swampy effluvium and robo-busting strength of her supple arch.

“But of course, you like it too, don’t you, Charlie?” she abruptly questioned. “Not the flavor, I suppose, since you couldn’t have an opinion on those things, but pleasing your owner? Serving the only meaning something like you ever could? If you only exist to do what I say, then it must make you so happy, that you could just burst, every time I put you in your place. Tell me how you like it.”

Between one helter-skelter breath and another, the trample fest ceased to give him a chance. Diane’s leaden sole unstuck from Cody’s bullied frame, grazing her dewy toe tips over the four-inch slave’s head on the way up again. The sudden liberty startled the wish-shrunken creature almost as much as when she’d initially trodden on him for a one-sided undersole wrestling match punctuated with licks. What hurt almost as keenly as the taste of her squalid perspiration on his lips was the fact that he had an opportunity now. If only he’d been planted in this synthetic mini-body with the ability to move on his own, with or without an order, he could’ve jumped up and made a run for it. But he was just as trapped here on his back by programming as he’d been when Diane was hammering him under that pulpy pink sole. And then, hearing her clear her throat, he realized she was actually waiting for a response, not just taunting him. But Charlie wasn’t going to say it for him.

For a relieving instant, Cody considered screaming out who he actually was and begging Diane not to keep treating him like a man-shaped doormat, while somehow trying to explain the wish which put him here. Inevitably, though, he’d have to detail the deep coveting for her feet that had cursed him here, ironically now loathing the extreme toe-slurping sole-smothering fetish playland he’d dreamt of for so long. How could he possibly explain that to the stepmother of the woman he loved? Not sure it was the best choice, then, but too afraid to speak the truth, Cody uttered his best impression of the Royal Footman:

“Error. Energy is low. Please allow a rest period.”

As he spoke, Diane was already in the process of dropping her foot back down and clasping Cody anew under that musky effort-swollen oblong pad of sole. No-doubt she was expecting a simple admission of glee from Charlie at the prospect of sniffing more of her stale reek and then tonguing it up in fluid form, like she’d probably heard a thousand times before. However, after registering Cody’s stilted voice, her foot halted and reversed course again, slamming back to the floor so close to the four-incher’s head that he could feel the heat of it radiating. Far more troubling, though, was the look of supreme puzzlement and even simmering irritation on her face. Things were bad enough when Diane was in a good mood, as Cody had discovered firsthand while getting sweatily roughhoused moments before, so even a hint of pursed lips and furrowed brow made his spine chill, assuming Charlie had bones.

“What did you just say?” Diane whispered, perplexed, as she leaned forward in her chair to better examine the action figure-sized butler sprawled between her bare insteps.
Again Cody found it to be a benefit that he couldn’t move, badly as he wished to flee, because Diane would’ve otherwise seen him shaking like a leaf at her interrogating tone. Just as threatening was the sheer presence of her feet resting as altars on either side of his little body, ready to cinch inward and make a sandwich of him between greasy sock-jammed soles.

“Energy… low. Please allow… a rest period.”

Cody doubted he was as convincing that time, but then again, it wasn’t like the jig was up either. The wish-granting reality of what had happened was far too insane for Diane to figure out who he was from a single oddball phrase. Then again, if she was sufficiently confused, she might resort to cracking him open with a screwdriver to find the problem, and then he just might wish she’d have instead gone with the quicker option of obliterating him under her ramming sole with car-compactor gusto, until he was no more.

“Rest period?” she gawked, raising her eyebrow and stroking her chin. “But… I charged you all night. And… you just did a wonderful job, as always, of rubbing and licking like the good plastic foot-slut you are. That’s very strange. All right, we’ll get to the bottom of this. Charlie, stand up.”

His shrunken robo-self did so right away, which he knew probably undermined his words. Sure enough, Diane scrutinized him more suspiciously than ever. Standing up from the armchair, she began to walk around in a slow tight circle, repeatedly fencing Cody in between her feet from so close that he had to wonder if she’d accidentally catch him under her step. He desperately wanted to flinch at each close call, feeling the warmth and wind of her swiftly-descending sole, followed by the rumble of the impact and the tremor in the floor running up through his diminutive scale. But again, all he could do was stand vulnerably in waiting.

“Just too peculiar,” Diane sighed to herself. “All right. Well, the manual did have a couple of tips to try, for if you ever had a glitch. Let’s try the first one. Charlie, get into reboot position.”

Flooded with panic, but also having no choice, Cody had no idea what that meant; his body did, however, forcing him to stand up straight as an arrow, his arms at his sides. Nothing happened for a second later, during which he expected Diane to flip some secret switch aligned on his back. Instead, he heard the breeze of a kickball windup, and then the giantess launched her foot straight into Cody. Though it wasn’t top speed, and not a cruel enough punt to send him flying so high that he damaged her home, Diane nonetheless sent her robo-man soaring from the brunt of those five toes clobbering him at once, backed by the strength of that relatively-small but still feisty ped. Feeling every bit of the force from that strike, Cody flew in a low arc and landed in the other room, face-down, but had only seconds to regret his decisions, before he saw another ovular shadow enclosing around him, followed by a quashy odor-thick arch isle coming down on his back, only this time while Diane was standing at full height.

“Fight back,” she calmly murmured.

Cody necessarily did the best he could, but he was being squeezed so hard to the floor under musty sole creases and the body weight of a “petite” giantess fifteen times his stature, that all his programming managed was to writhe in response. Diane didn’t seem to mind, though, muttering gladly to herself at the commencement of his insect-like resistance, and maybe even brought satiation again by the feeling of his insignificant robotic physique quaking petulantly under her foot. While Cody still wasn’t in tortuous misery, he was more concerned about the unsteadiness he suddenly felt through his body, as the titanic blonde now was surely testing the limits of his durability, all for the sake of a reboot. Jut how easily would he come apart?

“There, that should about do it,” Diane said, apparently only following protocol, and after a carefully-counted sixty second continuous trample, relinquished the pressure on her plaything. “Okay, Charlie, get up. Then get over here and stick that disobedient face where it belongs, between my toes. Make sure you get in there good, too.”
Quick as ever, Cody was up and scrambling on all fours to jam his whole skull into the flexed-out space of moist V-shaped flesh between Diane’s two largest digits. It was a tight squeeze, but the miniscule robot’s programming wasn’t about to settle for just softly kissing his face against the tender flanks. Only wedging himself in tight like a pedicure separator would do, and as a result, Cody found it even more difficult to draw breath while his whole world became the darkened pinch-point astride those toes, especially once Diane began to clench him there.

“Lick.”

Again there was hardly room to obey, but Cody did his best, still wishing to wretch up the tangy malodor baked into her toe crevice, but he still had no choice except to imbibe.
“And now tell me how you feel about being the butler to my feet.”

Following a thorough tongue-worship in that feverish toe slit, the giantess flared her digits again and unpeeled Cody’s face from the hot zone, leaving him to conk back to the floor in a smelly state of humiliation and anguish. If only he’d been born with a less demeaning fetish, and if only whatever higher power had answered his wish had just left him to stew in fantasies, instead of teaching him to be careful what he wished for.

“It’s… good,” he whimpered, knowing that couldn’t possibly be how Charlie was supposed to sound, but Cody was also too disgusted and fatigued now to do better. “I… like… it.”
“Oh, no,” Diane muttered, cupping a hand over her lips with worry. She shook her head, pacing another few laps around the subjugated toy at her feet. “I sure hope Kayla has a good idea, because I’m certainly out. But don’t worry, Charlie. I’m not giving up on you. We’ll have you back to normal soon enough.”

Short of Diane learning his identity and of his paraphilic lust for her feet, this was about the worst news Cody could’ve received. Kayla, unlike Diane, wasn’t particularly fond of the real “him.” Still, he knew he’d blown his chance, and there was no way to convince his “owner” not to call in tech-savvy backup without starting an even worse conversation. So he remained standing in the middle of the floor, silent and stock-still despite his anxiety attack, as a hulking lily-white size-5.5 ped impatiently tapped the floor in front of him, her drumming toes sending appropriately suspenseful tremors up through Charlie’s body. It only took a phone call, and minutes later, Cody heard the ponderous toll of even-larger feet thumping confidently into the room. Though his back was turned and he hadn’t been given permission to turn and see her, he noticed Kayla’s silhouette, notably taller than her mousier stepmom’s stature, overtaking his pitiful four-inch shape. If he had the ability, he would’ve gulped and doubled over from nerves, but his robotic anatomy held firm.

“All right, so what’s wrong with your dumb little boy-toy this time?” the towering brunette athlete demanded with a giddy smirk. She halted her march when both of her burly car-sized bare feet appeared either side of Cody, fencing him in between tan insteps, while the pillars of her toned legs rose up and out of his field of view.

“I just can’t figure it out! And this has never happened before, I’ll have you know,” Diane corrected.

“Oh, you know I’m just kidding. I get a kick out of lil’ goody-two-shoes foot-licker Charlie,” Kayla relented with a chuckle. Suddenly her right foot arched off the ground, splaying her meaty toes and etching new wrinkles along the whole underside, before she nimbly swung the thing behind an unnerved Cody’s back, spread her two thickest digits apart, and slipped his head right into the nook of toe cleavage for a pinch. Grasping him by his neck and noggin alone, she clamped tightly enough using only the warm mealy-scented crevice of her recently-exercised foot to suspend him off the ground like a hangman. “We have our fun. Don’t we, Charlie?”

“We… have… fun,” Cody choked out. He wasn’t sure what tormented him worse, the sensation of the fitter giantess’s muscular toe shafts closing his throat, or the linty vinegary after-effect odor of her latest workout.

“See what I mean? He’s performing his jobs well enough, but he’s not saying any of his normal phrases. He even tried to tell me to give him a break earlier, so he could power back up, but look at him, still standing there just fine,” Diane said. “Something’s just not right. But you know how I am with technology…”

“Fine, fine, I’ll see if I can kick him back into shape for you,” Kayla replied.

“I tried that! And it doesn’t seem to have worked.”

“Well, then, maybe I’ll have to kick him a little harder. You know I can. Or, just make him lick my toes until he remembers his robot manners again. Whatever works.”

Ten minutes later, Cody was standing in the middle of Kayla’s bedroom floor, staring ahead at her sizable bare feet while she flexed her toes in his direction, her sun-kissed skin still wearing the toejammed residue of sodden athletic socks. He felt tenser than ever, and was beginning to seriously regret trying to trick Diane into sticking him back in the corner for a “recharge.” Sure, it was awful having to pay literal lip-service to her feet, having had the fantasy illusion shattered by the stale sweaty appetite-killing truth of what it was actually like to worship a day-weary feminine foot larger than his whole body, but at least it was still just Diane: meaner than he thought her capable of, yes, but at least she seemed to care for Charlie in a strange way. Kayla, by contrast, seemed to view the butler as a silly diversion, at best a game to play, and considering how aggressive Kayla could be when she wanted to “win” a game, Cody’s insides ached with apprehension.

“Well, well, well,” Kayla drawled, clicking her tongue as she disinterestedly studied the four-incher below. “Want to tell me what the problem is, Charlie?”

His heart pounding, Cody almost preferred that Kayla just gave him a nonspeaking task to perform, even if it involved the forewarned toe-scrub along the loping contours of her toe valleys, or the exertion-swollen slab of her crease-populated sole. At least then he didn’t have to try to think up an answer that maintained his disguise. He’d just have to put himself in a dissociative state while Charlie did all the work, gobbling up every ounce of grime, grit, and sock runoff caked on that amazonian bare foot. Ironically, he’d never fixated on the idea of subjugating himself at Kayla’s peds, only Diane’s, perhaps because Ashley’s sister was snarly and standoffish enough around him that he preferred the thought of becoming briefly enslaved to the (he thought) kinder-hearted of the two giantesses.

“I’m waiting,” she uttered with annoyance.

Just as Cody made the first noise of an improvised answer, he discovered he’d taken too long, because Kayla was upon him in two earth-quaking strides. When that naked size-9 raised just enough for her curled toes to crest over his head, the little guy fully expected another impact, much like what Diane had done only twice as energetic, that would send him soaring out the bedroom door and bumping all the way down the stairs. Instead, the dimpled perspiration-frosted slope of her arch brushed forth and tackled the miniature robot flat to the ground. From there, Kayla’s foot followed him down, resting flush on most of his toyish frame, and allowing only his face from the nose-up to squeeze over the horizon of the fleshy crook between her two largest toes, the same which had nonchalantly put him in a suffocating headlock before. Again Cody was made to suffer the competing hardships of the taller dominator’s mass bearing down on all of him at once, not just his neck, plus a pungent uptick in the intensity of that bitter soggy warped-insole aroma.

“Yeah, something’s definitely wrong with you. No question,” Kayla declared, meeting his gaze between the vice of her toes. “Kiss my foot, you little bitch.”

Again the programming made Cody instantly plant a passionate smooch on the slightly-puffy shelf of upper sole flesh at the base of Kayla’s sour-dampened toes. From this single lip-lock alone, he received a worse taste than any of the nauseating licks he’d gifted to Diane, since the blonde titaness had merely run errands and bustled around the house all day, while the dark-haired goddess currently grinding him into the floor despite his robotic affection had plainly worked out and foregone a shower right after.

“Good, at least you can still do that much. Really, that’s what’s important. And, honestly, if Mom didn’t care, I’d just say who gives a crap. As long as you do what you’re told, and you’re not saying anything rude, I can just shut you up anytime by having you do the thing you were built for. Actually, I don’t know if you were actually made for this, but it’s definitely what you’re best at, so whatever. But, she does care, so now it’s my job to stomp you back the way you’re supposed to be. So let’s feel that tongue now, Charlie. Lick my foot ten times, then try again, and tell me why you’re not talking right.”

With every fiber of his being, Cody wanted to resist, to at least take a breather and attempt to think up what to say, but his body wasn’t waiting, and suddenly his tongue was slaking for ten vigorous passes along the wet-pithed curve between the flank of each giant digit. Breathing had become a more difficult business, what with the entire beast of her musty arch and heavy heel plastered down on his near-numbed frame; Cody felt this especially while trying to gasp up the salt-tainted oxygen in between lapping at her foot’s bough with his whole tongue. Those ten licks were all it took to leave the shrinker with a jawful of melted-off sweat and crumbs of sock-crud and flaked skin, and since he still had control of his expressions, his face couldn’t help but scrunch up with the kind of distasteful loathing Charlie should’ve been too inhuman to display. Kayla’s eyes narrowed, seeming to recognize this abnormality, but didn’t comment on it. Instead, she lessened the weight of her statuesque physique compressed down through her sole just enough for Cody to catch his breath and form speech.

“Tell me what’s wrong with you,” she commanded. “Now.”

“Recalibrating,” Cody wheezed, knowing he was running out of chances. “I am ready to serve.”

“Bullshit, you are. Something screwy is up. Look at your dumb little face. You’re… feeling stuff. Lick my foot twenty more times, and then we’ll try again.”

The weight of Kayla’s sole-island heaved down with a vengeful clap, treading on Cody even more forcefully than before. Her filthy lukewarm sole molded around his spread-eagle shape, totally immobilizing the shrinker from the neck-down: fitting really when he couldn’t move his own body without a direct order from his keepers. At this blow, he gave another uncharacteristic peep of surprise, then immediately returned to work, bathing her foot for twice as many nightmarish samples as before.

By this point, Cody could tell he was trapped. Kayla had latched onto his vaguely-human oddities better than Diane, and her suspicions meant she was now going to interrogate him until she discovered the truth. That much was clear. Diane might’ve eventually let this go, if he’d just play-acted better, and gone back to pretend-happily being a thirsty disciple at the altar of his girlfriend’s stepmother’s lush doughy-smooth peds. Instead, he was at the mercy of the steely-eyed athlete, a girl who would never let anyone, human or not, get away with fooling her, and he expected she wouldn’t rest until he’d given her a satisfactory response, even if it meant making him lick until his robo-tongue detached, and then outright curb-stomping his surely-breakable body so his cogs flew out. He had a choice to make, and Cody selected the option where he wasn’t trampled to the breaking point.
“It’s me!” he shrieked, when her foot lifted to give him another opportunity. “It’s… Cody!”

Kayla winced, raising an eyebrow, though because she’d already caught on that something extremely bizarre was happening, she didn’t necessarily look more shell-shocked at this admission.

“What the hell does that mean? You’re Cody? So why do you look and mostly act like Charlie?”

“I swear, it’s me! I… w-wished to become, well… this. Sort of. Only for a day. On ACCIDENT!”

“You wished?” she scoffed.

“Yes! I know, it sounds insane, but you have to believe me that I just woke up this way, inside Charlie. Then Diane came in the room and started talking to me like him, and I was afraid, so I tried to just fake it, but I couldn’t control myself, and had to do what she said, and-”

“Hold up,” Kayla interrupted, cracking her knuckles. Though her foot hadn’t returned to pressing on the four-inch body soaking up her sole shadow and perspiration, she also hadn’t set it down on the floor either, instead keeping her arch primed and hovering above him like a weapon to be unloaded at any moment, if she found his answers wanting. “I guess I believe you’re not Charlie, at least. God knows the little foot-licking creep usually talks like a stupid robot, and you’re definitely not doing that. But what you’re saying is… you… are Cody. And you can talk, but you don’t have any control of your body, except when I give you an order?”

“YES!”

“That…” Kayla dryly replied, then immediately cracked a glowering smile, her eyes lighting up with mirth, “…is the fucking funniest thing I have ever heard in my entire life.”

Whatever breed of hollowing dread Cody had first felt moments before, when grappling with the possibility of spending all day licking Kayla’s caustically-sweaty toes on an infinite loop, was nothing next to the despair brought on with each booming peal of the tanned valkyrie’s laughter. In retrospect, he hadn’t felt quite hopeless yet, even when trying to admit the humiliating truth to a gigantic woman who didn’t care much for him. But this was it. This was actual rock bottom. With no other recourse, Cody began frantically wishing as hard as he could to reverse his kinky misfortune. If sensuous longing had imprisoned him in Charlie’s robo-frame, then perhaps the hysterical regret and utter terror he felt now would be enough to undo it.

But he wasn’t going anywhere. Not until she gave him permission.

“Seriously… this… couldn’t be any more perfect!” Kayla guffawed, doubled over now and clutching her toned abdomen from the sheer humor of the helpless toy man currently standing on the bedroom floor in the intimidating presence of her shapely beefy-soled size-9 behemoths. “I really just can’t get over it. Honestly, I don’t know what I would’ve thought was your problem if you weren’t such a dingus and just told me yourself. I wouldn’t have thrown you in the trash or anything, but I’d definitely just be leaving you to Mom, because of how creepy it was to hear you talk fake. But now? Well, let’s just say I’m going to be using you a LOT more. Get over here and start rubbing the bottoms of my feet, Cody, before I have to try another manual reboot on you. Not that I don’t want a good reason to…”

Immediately the shrinker marched toward the bronzed monolithic slopes of Kayla’s peds, the undersides of which were helpfully displayed when he came close enough to follow her order. Dropping to his knees, Cody struggled to find the words as his hands faithfully commenced kneading and knuckle-rolling both the perspiration-sticky plains of her soles, from squishy toe-trunks down to the hardy rounded heels. A chorus of her over-emphatic pleasure-murmurs told him he was at least doing it correctly enough not to earn another punt across the room, but this wasn’t the rescue he’d hoped for. Though pessimistic, he was willing to give the giantess the benefit of the doubt here. Maybe she was just in shock. Who wouldn’t be? Sure, she didn’t like him much, but was a slight-distaste enough grounds to keep on abusing his robotic servitude for her selfish purposes, especially after she’d just made him relentlessly tongue up her curdled sweat? She hadn’t even apologized.

“Kayla…” he muttered, humbly as possible. “…please. I know this is all… crazy, but can’t you… do something to help? Please, I’m… begging you.”

“First of all, what exactly would you want me to do?” the giantess crowed with a withering grin, crossing her arms and sucker-punching Cody in the side of her head with her oily big toe, causing him to capsize. Of course right after he went back to arch-fondling like nothing had occurred. “You said it yourself. You wished this to happen for, what, a whole day? I may be awesome at a lot of stuff, but I’m not magic, or whatever the hell did this to you, so you can only blame yourself for getting into this mess. And anyway, it’s not like you’re useful for a whole lot else until you turn back into a boring old person-version of your boring old self. You might as well try to think of other people, for once in your life, and think of this like your charity for the day. Something nice, that you might not like, but somebody else does. For example: I want you to bend over deep right now and lick out that big gunky toejam spot, riiiiight in there, in between. See it? Now eat it.”

Intaking air like he’d been gently impaled, Cody could form no other argument yet, and had little time for it anyway, as his body bowed to Kayla’s whims again. Hunkered in a rather degrading four-limbed crouch like a dutiful puppy, he turned his head to the side so as to make for an easier fit into the putty-smooth groove of lint-speckled toe flesh. He saw exactly what she was talking about: a grisly wad of cemented sweat, dark sock fluff, dead skin, and anonymous grit all fused at the size of an apple, at least for him. Right away he detected the distilled musk of that grunge-blob alone, drenched through and sculpted by squeezing pressure from Kayla’s hotly-exercised toe mass. While he’d now had more practice in a single hour licking Diane’s and Kayla’s feet than he ever guessed he’d experience in his lifetime, this new challenge added another execrable layer to his undoing.

“W-Wait… Kayla, d-don’t… please don’t make me… e-eat that,” Cody gulped in disbelief, as his body willfully inserted his head into her humid crevice.

“Less talk, more chomp.”

“PLEASE! I don’t want to-”

“Do you really think this is about what you want anymore, you annoying little asshole? If what you said is true, you’re going to turn back into a stupid human being again tomorrow, which means I haven’t got long to give you a piece of what you deserve. In case you can’t tell, I don’t like you. In fact, I kind of hate you. Obviously it would’ve been “rude” or whatever to just say that before, but hey, your wish kinda turned into my wish, in a funny way, and now I get to do and say whatever I want to you. So try to keep that trap shut, so you don’t give me a reason to think up something even worse right after. Now EAT.”

Without further fearful dawdling, Cody got to scarfing through the balled-up toejam feast stuck between Kayla’s meaty digits. Every strain of cloying sole-B.O. zip he’d already learned he hated, contrary to his foolish fetish beliefs, via licking Diane’s foot before was now received in a gooey package of tenfold amplification. He openly gagged and teared up, but had no power to halt his feeding progress, and was well on his way to polishing off the whole damp chunk of toe-dreck inside of two horrifying minutes. As he worked, the giantess leaned back on the bedside and returned to her previous satisfied croons, the kind that might’ve even naughtily intrigued Cody, if their cause wasn’t his poor shrunken nostrils and lips vacuuming up the fruits of her labors.

“You know what else is funny?” Kayla cheerily spoke, while the robo-slave at her feet gargled through the hellish slickness of her toe-vice. “Like you heard me telling Mom, I’ve never been super into the whole Royal Footman thing. Yeah, Charlie’s fun to kick around, and since you obviously still have all his regular talents, like doing what you’re told, he definitely knows his way around massaging and cleaning up a dirty foot. I’ll give you that much. But, c’mon. It’s a super-expensive toy, at best. I thought Mom was crazy to pay as much as she did for him… or I guess, you. This, though? Like, if I’d walked into the store and they told me I could have a little robot that had to do everything I said, except my sister’s shitty boyfriend was stuck inside it, and even though he could talk back and bitch and moan, he couldn’t stop me? I’d have paid ten TIMES what Mom did. I’m not kidding. This is worth it. Lucky me, though, I got you for free, because you’re an idiot who wished yourself this way. Which means I get to fuck with you until the exact second you turn back into a person, and then who the hell is ever going to believe your insane story? Honestly, as disappointing as it’s going to be when I can’t just force you to rub my soles and lick my toes and eat out the jam, I’m still going to love that you have to live the rest of your life, knowing how much I got to fuck with you today. And you couldn’t, and won’t ever, do anything about it.”

By the time Cody finished gobbling up the wretched clumps of brine-washed filth from that tan toe cleavage, he lacked the fortitude to do anything but cough through the after-taste. Still, having heard Kayla’s whole spiel, and come to truly understand not only the depths of her contempt toward him, but her potential for power-drunkenness when she had a helpless robo-imprisoned creature at her disposal, he didn’t bother trying to convince her otherwise. It was certain what would happen if he attempted to argue again, no matter how pathetic he came off. The way things were going, the more piteous he seemed, a worse punishment might await. Without even a pause to catch his breath, his arms resumed the same podiatric treatment on Kayla’s tough heinously-moist twin soles.

“I guess that’s a pretty good start,” the giantess shrugged, after nearly an hour spent wearing Cody out by re-massaging and re-tonguing regions of her feet he’d already long-before tended.

If this was only a beginning, the shrinker doubted he’d have the strength to see the end. On the slightest of bright sides, areas of her feet he’d already licked spotless and then loosened the sole knots with his exhausted hands didn’t stink quite so sharply on a second, third, or fourth pass, and most of her sweat had either dried or been sponged into him. Still, by then the little butler was beyond fatigued and even more beyond defeated. The one and only solace, just as when he was put in the thrall of Diane’s peds but far worse, was the knowledge that regardless of the tortures she put him through today, it would all cease tomorrow.

“Well? Aren’t you going to say thank you?” Kayla imperiously questioned, after slapping both soles down in front of Cody with an iron thwomp and a joint-popping toe curl.

“T-Thank…?”

“Yes, obviously. This was your wish, wasn’t it? And I’m helping it come true. I mean, it’s pretty obvious why you did this. I’ve seen the way you used to watch Charlie under the table, working on Mom’s feet. You think you’re sneaky, but you’re not. No, you’re just a nasty dirty-dog perv with a sick thing for feet. And I just gave you a whole buffet of the thing you love! Believe me, I almost didn’t, once I figured it out, since I’m not exactly thrilled about helping you. Still, Charlie can’t get disgusting boners, and I don’t have to worry about you going rogue and trying to hump my toes or whatever, since you only do what I say, so it’s all good. But, I bet this isn’t all you wished for. No, you’re the depraved kind, I bet. What else is waiting in that dumb little foot-fetishy head of yours, I wonder? First things first, though. Say thank-you.”

“T-Thank…” Cody powerlessly cringed, the taste of her sole still ripe on his tongue. “…you.”

“You are so welcome. And now, we’ll see how you like doing a good deed for Bri instead. She should be back from school soon, and the Vans she wears are always in ugly shape,” the giantess said with a smarmy smirk. Hopping off the bed, she scooped Cody roughly into her fist, as she made her way for the door. “Remember, I can’t choose what you say, but I can sure as hell shut you up faster than you can get your kooky explanation out. So if you try anything funny, like telling Mom or Bri who you are, your mouth will end up too busy kissing a puddle of my sweat for the rest of the day. Clear?”

“Yes,” he meekly sighed in her grip.

Maybe he’d again been too quick to assign rock bottom, when Kayla kept finding new lows for him.

“I’m hooooome!” came Bri’s dulcet announcement from the other room, followed by the slamming of the front door.

Even down the hall, and no longer marooned on the floor where he could feel every tremulous jolt of a giantess’s faraway footstep, he could hear the rubber-soled skip of those Vans he’d been forewarned about. Looking apologetically up at Kayla, who only stifled a laugh and then pressed a finger over her lips to shush him, Cody wondered if there was any choice he might’ve made differently on this train wreck of a day, aside from never wishing to imperatively serve Diane’s feet, that might’ve protected him from the next onslaught of mortifying embarrassment. First he could’ve just gone along with what his original “owner” wanted, instead of faking an error. Then he could’ve just held out and kept his secret from Kayla. Of course the safest change of all would’ve been to go back in time and ensure he didn’t so blatantly lust after Diane’s feet in front of her step-daughter, who not only hated him to a degree well-beyond what he’d guessed, but was also aware of his fetish, and now intended to weaponized it against him.

“Hey!” Kayla cheered with more happiness than Cody had ever heard directed his way, as they emerged in the living room. “How was school?”

“Oh, pretty good, I guess,” Bri shrugged. “It was lame, though, because after gym class there was a fire drill and then we didn’t even have time to shower before next period. It wasn’t that bad, but still… gross.”

Since the eighteen-year-old was all but the spitting image of Diane, a pint-sized five-foot-one frame and golden-crowned with the same color eyes as well, Cody thought he was prepared to see his girlfriend’s younger sister, but yet again experienced the shock of witnessing another woman he once towered over having now become a relative colossus. He tried not to look at her too long, maybe hoping to be forgotten in Kayla’s hand, but still couldn’t help fearfully sneaking a peek below. In fact Cody knew exactly the Vans his tormenter was referring to: Bri’s favorite pair of footwear, once snow-white, but now stained beige by earthy wear, with scuffed rims and splattered laces, and the shrinker doubted the interior was much prettier.

“That DOES stink, for sure,” Kayla said, unable to hide a grin that was surely meant for Cody’s further chagrin. “Not you, obviously. The fire drill.”
“Well, I probably kinda do, also,” Bri admitted with a smirk. Still, the “little” blonde heaved her backpack on the floor, then collapsed into the couch cushions, while Kayla posted near the end, still cinching the robo-butler in her fist. “But I’m not nasty or anything, so it’s okay if I chill out here for a second. Just don’t tell Mom.”
“My lips are sealed,” Kayla said, catching Cody’s eye. “You know I can keep a secret.”

Almost immediately, Bri began ripping the Van shoestrings apart, going only for speed as she split the knots, popped her socked heels out first, then yanked the overly-loved footwear the rest of the way off. Both petite vessels were chucked to the floor with a satiated sigh from their owner, though to Bri’s wrinkle-nosed curiosity, Kayla quickly knelt down above them. Cody, from this debatably-better view, could see his keeper wasn’t bluffing. The insides were in a sorry state, with the fabric siding coming apart as fuzz, and the once-pure insole stained a foul gray, particularly dark in the foamy indentions created by Bri’s toes, heel, and the ball of her foot. With his body still incarcerated in Kayla’s unflinching fingers, Cody was held but six inches from the mouth of the nearest Van. First he felt the delicate waft of heat, then decoded the boggy festering of Bri’s freshly-vacated school-day foot garb. It made him wheeze aloud.

“What are you doing?” Bri questioned her sister. “Do they really smell that much? Don’t get so close to them, you’re gonna embarrass me.”

“Oh, just wondering if you want them to get a nice spring clean. They’re your favs, after all. And Charlie here is just dying for some extra work.”

“Really? He’s just Mom’s weirdo toy,” Bri scoffed. “He can’t “want” stuff. He just does it.”

“That’s true, but either way, he’s eager to please, once you give him an order,” Kayla said. Her hand descended, much to Cody’s rigid dismay, and slipped the four-incher right into the mouth without permission. While Bri’s total disinterest made the shrinker hope she’d protest the idea of having the robot servant in her shoe, she watched his entrance without a word of resistance. Though the Van still had open-air access through the unlaced mouth, Cody felt as though he’d stepped into a fully-heated sauna, as his immobile frame was placed face-down on the warped sweat-gray insole pad. The ground was just as mildewy as it smelled, almost slippery, and his face came unfortunately to rest right in the shallow depression of Bri’s big toe, the deeper Kayla tucked him.

“Fine, then. I guess they could look a little better. Plus maybe they’ll stink less after school, if he takes care of it,” the younger giantess relented. Her speech was muttered, though, as her most of her attention had already shifted to the phone in her palm. While swiping through social media, her other hand commenced plucking her wet-clinging socks off her cooped feet one at a time, then flung them beside the Vans. “I don’t really pay attention much when Mom uses him, honestly. Does he just do it?”

“Nope, you’ve got to give him a command first. And I think Mom had them program in your voice, too, so he should be under your control.”

“Oh,” Bri said, still unimpressed. “Okay, uh… Charlie… clean up the inside of my shoe.”

Though this edict was vague, Cody’s mechanized limbs got to work, instead scrubbing and chipping away at the aged insole flap by hand rather than mouth. While the odor of the Van interior was clouded thickly around him now, giving him a stiffer and cheesier full-course sample of Bri’s tired feet than he ever thought he’d receive or desire, it was still a marked improvement to be excavating molded-in sole filth without using his tongue. Maybe Bri’s detached adolescent attitude would save him after all. Surely Charlie’s encyclopedic know-how of foot and shoe care could get the thing just as clean this way too?

“Hmmm, no, I don’t think that’s going to do it,” Kayla thoughtfully commented, shattering Cody’s hopes.

“Huh? Why not?” Bri asked, distracted from her phone again.

As the four-inch bot in her shoe swiveled to work on scraping sock fuzz and dirt grains from the heel section, he was able to turn his head just high enough toward the light for a slightly more hygienic oxygen gasp. However, this also meant receiving a gulp-inducing view to the blonde giantess’s newly-unsheathed bare peds, both of which were rested casually over the cushion’s edge, with one squat-arched pink sole in particular resting dangerously near to the hovel of her imprisoning Van. Her toes, like puffy little pillow-mints, squiggled and aired out the grooves between, which even against the stale mist of her shoe guts, Cody was pretty certain he could distinctly inhale, the aroma yet more vivid when sourced directly from her pliant foot flesh.

“Well, from what I’ve seen, he just doesn’t do as good a job if he doesn’t lick it up,” Kayla answered.

“Oh, okay. I guess I do hear Mom telling him to do that stuff a lot. Seems weird. But whatever works, I guess. I never knew you were this into her dumb toy. So… I just tell him to lick it?”

“Sure. It might help if you also give him an amount to do it.”

“No problem,” Bri said, not even looking up from her phone. “Hmmm… an amount…”

Her toes briefly scrunched together overhead of Cody, cutely furrowing the wrinkles of her not-so-cutely-scented sole pad. That foot was scrawny, probably smaller even than Diane’s size-5.5, and yet the robo-fellow would’ve been shivering in pants-pissing dread of it right now, if he still had bodily autonomy. She could cover him with that sole, bury him in unwashed peach-dimpled arch flesh down against the swarthy dark-gray Van basin and grind until the heat and grodiness of her giant body became indistinguishable from the shoe. And all without pausing in her decision to like someone’s Instagram post or not.

“Okay, sure. Charlie, lick the inside of my shoe. How about… five hundred times. Start right now, dummy.”

So many alarm bells went off in Cody’s head as he instantaneously rammed his face into the rumpled fluid-ingrained insole for lick duty, he didn’t even realize for several seconds that the cackling he heard wasn’t internal, but coming from Kayla above. It wasn’t just villainous laughter at his expense, though that tone was present, but mainly one of genuine surprise. It seemed Cody’s amazonian secret-keeper had underestimated her sister, too.

“Did that sound better?” Bri asked.

“Yep, I think that’ll just about do it!” Kayla replied, still enraptured with amusement by her bored phone-glued little sibling’s nonchalance. Of course the girl had no idea what was happening, but based on the marathon of perspiration-fermented tongue torture Cody had in store next, Bri might as well have been a princess yawning in the middle of ordering a peasant’s beheading.

For her part, the blonde had all but forgotten about her mother’s techno-plaything the moment after she issued him this harrowing order. And Kayla seemed content to leave her prisoner to his dire consequences below, by hopping up on the couch beside her sister and flipping on the TV. Her own much-larger sun-tanned soles soon hovered over the sneaker beside Bri’s, where they were plainly visible to the shoe-inmate beneath. Meanwhile, Cody tried not to count down the licks, since this knowledge would only make the wait seem longer, but since he needed something to occupy his mind with other than the gag-worthy horror of battling the entire sweaty history of a badly-worn Van’s caked-in toe crevice runoff, he did so anyway. Every taste seemed to take longer than the last. Regretfully, even with so many tongue-lashes ahead, Charlie’s programming treated each open-lipped stroke like the most passionate prelude to eating out a lover, except it just kept on repeating over and over.

At ten laps, Cody was more than done. By twenty, his own robo-tongue started to feel like a separate antagonistic entity: a tool meant only to slurp the next soggy crusted-in funk pieces toward his throat. After fifty laps, Cody felt he’d experienced the worst of Bri’s long-stewed foot flavor, lacking even the minor mercy that post-gym class shower might’ve provided, but he’d soon learn he was wrong. He’d prayed that the longer the shoe was unoccupied by its socked thick-soled regular tenant, the more that trickled air could filter through and soften at least some of the lung-rotting stomach-turning gristliness. Yet if anything, the exposure to the outside world seemed to make the salty pore-excretions and melted dirt speckles spoil all the faster, like milk left out in summer sun. Bri’s after-school malodor only took on more complexity as Cody bypassed a triple-digit lick without even a break to stop and cry from sheer detestation.

“How do you think he’s doing?” Kayla asked her sister a while later, while booting up the third episode of whatever show she’d chosen.

“Who?” Bri mumbled with bona fide confusion, returning instantly to her phone again. “Oh! Him. Uh, I hope good? But whatever, you know? I mean, they’re just shoes.”

It seemed a cruel kind of irony that Cody’s one-time ultimate fantasy, over the course of nearly twenty-four hours, had transformed into the longest, sickest, most tortuous day of his life by a country mile. For the rest of the afternoon, evening, and even late into the night, “Charlie” was passed around between Kayla, Diane, and Bri for exhaustive rubdown duties and getting his worshipful mouth continually violated by liquid-state musk glazed like rotten sugar on an unending parade of squirmy toes and thick-padded soles. Though the original mistress of his fetishistic obsession didn’t seem completely convinced Kayla had corrected his glitch, she was content in the end to ignore his off-brand commentary and just enjoy the usual tending of her weary peds. Bri, though still largely disinterested, had several more of her sweat-sponged insoles tongue-scaped by Cody at Kayla’s behest, though the secret-keeping amazon herself was greediest of all with the robotic butler today, a fact that seemed to amuse and even delight her stepmother.

Barely sleeping a wink, especially with his body bundled tight in Kayla’s sock overnight, Cody was woken bright and early for a lengthy morning service at the giantess’s tanned recently-exerted soles after a jog she embarked on just to ensure he had plenty to drink. The only thing staving off a mental breakdown in him now was the knowledge of an endpoint to all this obediently French-kissing the floor crud and feminine perspiration off six titanic bare feet. If every other specific aspect of his wish had been granted, then surely the caveat of only becoming Charlie for one day would be honored too. Cody had made a point of noting the time, counting down the hours and now the minutes until 11:53 a.m., precisely when he’d awoken in the synthetic body of a foot-licking automaton. The downside, of course, was that after Kayla learned of this cutoff too, she seemed intent on making the absolute most of the time remaining.

“Lick - faster - prick!” she chanted through gritted teeth, practically spitting at Cody as she lounged in her damp white-and-blue runner’s garb while out on the sunshine-baked back porch, with the four-incher giving her everything he had. The giantess didn’t seem to want to relax, though, with most of her toned physique visibly clenched as she leaned forward in the lawn chair to inspect her toy’s every harried move. “Why can’t you do better? Is this really the best you have in you? In like ten minutes, you’re gonna lose your chance to live out all your sicko toe-sucker wet dreams, and turn back into the same boring creeper in your way-less-fun “person” body. So you better wag that tongue faster, and get to it while the getting’s good.”

Cody didn’t suppose it would be any use to try and point out to Kayla that her judgment of his performance now was only a reflection of Charlie’s programming, not his eagerness (or lack thereof) to pay slobbery tribute to her cardio-swollen giant feet and the hot saltwater seeping from every crook. He could only work as hard as he was built to. In fact, his head was weaving back-and-forth so fast, and his tongue tirelessly probing the skin, that he doubted he’d have been able to lap at her pruny toe flesh one-tenth this efficiently or luxuriously if he was in his human form. If he wasn’t at the total mercy of her voice commands, he’d have passed out from consumption and stomach cramps long before the sun went down yesterday. So either her standards were inhumanly high when it came to four-inch-tall servants slurping the viscous efforts off the bronzed altars of her filthy feet, or (more likely) she was relishing this once-in-a-lifetime chance to control and bitch at him without consequence, right up to the bitter end.

“Amazing. You’re even pathetic at the one thing in life that you probably want to do the most. You’d probably never admit it to anyone, but deep down, I bet you’re seriously regretting not wishing you could do this FOREVER,” Kayla remarked, a though that made Cody shudder within. Delivering a right-hook to the little butler’s face, courtesy of her dense punching-bag of a big toe, the giantess tipped both feet onto their sides, exposing the supple richly-wrinkled soles still rife with moist shine and taffy-like sockjam. “Get between here now and show me what you’re made of. Which, I’m guessing isn’t much at all, but I still want to see it. I want your little hands rubbing and your little tongue sticking to these feet so fast and furious that if you worked that hard for an hour, your robo-bits would start coming apart like I’d stomped you myself. GO!”

Faithfully as always, even if it meant his own destruction, Charlie’s protocols got to work, massaging his shrunken hands and taste buds in such a whirlwind over this canyon of beefy sour-fumed soles, that Cody could indeed feel the ultra-fine engineering in his internal mechanics loosening. When the timer fell below five minutes, however, the little man suddenly felt a strange sense of calm overtaking him, even while he remained trapped in this panicky body-breaking worship grind. It was like he’d reached the eye of the storm. And with so little left to lose, and the end in sight, Cody defiantly shouted in between Charlie’s starving licks across the pliant valley of Kayla’s arch:

“Fuck - you!”

“EXCUSE me?” she thundered, reacting instantly by broadsiding the miniature creature with her whole foot. Cody went sailing across the porch, tumbling over the side and landing in the soil of a flowerbed below. Kayla was quick to follow, however, standing high above him with the sun at her back, making her into a frightful sweat-glistening silhouette of a goddess. With her hands on her hips, she tromped into the garden and brought the ball of her foot down on him like a catapult payload, wreaking her greasy toes over his face while twisting her whole ped and gradually shoving Cody down into the dirt, until half of him was buried under her balmy peach sole. “You want to try saying that one more time, you little shit, and see what it earns you?”

“Whatever. What more could you actually do to me?” Cody choked out, even mustering a laugh, as he enjoyed his first real sense of empowerment through this whole hellish episode, despite the gigantic quantity of slippery foot plowing him into the earth. They were down to a minute left. He’d counted. “You’re already forcing me to do stuff that’ll make me fall apart! So I’m not scared of you anymore, you psychotic bitch. Listen up: you think this is over once I turn back? You think I’ll be too afraid to get back at you just because no one will believe what you did to me? I don’t care what they think! I am going to get back at you for everything you’ve done to me in the last twenty-four hours, and I will make it look like an accident, until you’re the one asking me for help. But I won’t give it. Understand? You’ve got NOTHING on me!”

Kayla couldn’t have looked more affronted than if Cody had physically slapped her across the face, and the shrinker doubted he’d ever get more satisfaction out of any sight in his life than he did from the gasket-blowing befuddlement and rage he saw in her now. Her cheeks flushed and the veins popped in her eyes; her toes scrunched around his neck and her sole quivered from the temptation to press down until he disappeared under the petunia roots. Then the giantess’s lips parted, almost gasping for breath due to Cody’s sheer gall, but before either party could get another word out, they each froze when Kayla’s watch alarm bleeped.

Confused, Cody realized he’d actually forgotten the countdown, having become so invested in scaring Kayla with the revenge he absolutely intended to carry out. But it was 11:53 now, and going on the next minute already, while the giantess and her dirty half-submerged servant stared one another down. And yet he was still here. Then, as if an unseen power was forcibly wrenching her features, all the fury melted out of Kayla at once. Her gaze softened and her lips reverse-curled up into a euphoric smile.

“I’m… sorry… what was all that you were saying again?” she questioned with a faux-polite whisper. “I think I may have missed some of what you said, Cody, since I was distracted by my handy-dandy lil’ timer telling me it’s been one full day since you became the family foot-slut. But, from looking into your eyes now, and seeing that goddamned smug smile that I’m going to be permanently wiping off your face very soon, I KNOW this isn’t Charlie I’m talking to now. Actually, I’m starting to doubt that old Charlie is ever coming back. I think… just maybe… you’re locked in there for the long haul.”

She cocked her head at Cody, who was abruptly filled with a degree of madness more exponential than anything he’d yet experienced while stuck in this impotent body. A moment before, he’d felt impervious to her foot stamping him into the mulch, but now the compression of it felt astronomic in his perception, like that meaty soil-and-lint-smeared sole was expanding to the size and density of an island nation. The earth kept on bending at his back from Kayla pushing down and down, until only his head still poked up like a weed, with the oily inner flanks of her two largest toes sidled around his robot skull in an interrogative vice.

“What, don’t feel like repeating it? Too scared I’ll twist this little head of yours right off?” Kayla snarled, bringing back her furor in full. She tightened her dexterous digits around the shrinker’s face, smushing and squeezing until her toes turned milky-pale and Cody’s expression verged on tears. “Believe me, I’d like to do that. So, so much. But then it’d be a waste. Because that’d be letting you off way too easy, after the kind of mouthing-off you just pulled, and also because I’m going to need that naughty little tongue ready to lick all the nasty stuff off the bottoms of my feet every day and every hour from now on, until your little computer heart finally just tuckers out, and we toss you in a dumpster with the rest of the junk. You’re not just going to wish you hadn’t said all those stupid big-manly-man threats. You’re going to wish you’d never been born.”

Reaching a temporary peak in her fury, Kayla balled her fists and mashed the four-inch butler’s face the rest of the way into the earth under her heel. Above, he felt the ground compacting, darkening all around him and quaking while the giantess jumped up and down on top of where she’d buried him alive, like an overly-aggressive touchdown dance. Just when claustrophobia was settling in, however, her fingers clawed through the muck, grabbing the loam-packed Cody out of the flowerbed by his leg and letting him dangle like landfill trash from her fist.

Emerging back into the sunlight, out of his mind with bewilderment and shock at his continued imprisonment, the shrinker almost got the feeling like he’d been reborn from the ground as Charlie, this time forever. With every step Kayla took, he willed himself as strongly as he could to break out of this shell and return to his body. Yet the only liberation he experienced was when the giantess chucked him at the side of the house, letting him fall into the grass with a painful clatter before she scooped up the hose, cranked the knob, and power-washed her filth-crusted toy with ice-cold water until Cody was left involuntarily moaning for her to stop.

“Welcome to the first day of the rest of your life, shit-sack,” Kayla chuckled, planting her sweltering sole slab back on Cody’s frigid drippy robo-body with a remorseless whomp. “God, I can’t even tell you how happy I am right now. Because we have only JUST gotten started.”


###


Cody wore a polite smile, despite screaming for help on the inside, as the cocoon of Kayla’s strong fingers around his butler-body held him out in offering to Bri, who’d just stepped inside after the trip home from school, not twenty seconds before.

The shrunken sufferer was now faced with a far more disturbing problem; while he’d spent most of yesterday trying to disguise himself as Charlie, sick with nerves at being discovered, his wish had gone into unforeseeable overtime now, and he wanted nothing more than to reveal himself. Who the hell cared about the humiliation of everyone learning about his fetish-chasing transformation, compared to a possible lifetime imprisonment in this mechanical body at the gargantuan feet of ladies who saw him as only a pathetic toe-slurping toy, including the only person who knew he was human?

But after Kayla finished stomping, sole-burying, and rinsing Cody in the backyard today in her victory dance, she’d seen quickly to his chances of alerting the more sympathetic members of the family, commanding that he only smile in the others’ presence, and never give a hint of his identity. And so his programming rightfully shut him up.

“You want me to use him again?” Bri asked her sister, raising an eyebrow. She studied Cody’s doll-scale face, frowning slightly and pursing her lips. Part of the shrinker hoped against all odds she’d look into his eyes and recognize him without speaking, even though he knew what a stupid impossibility that was. From so close up, he noticed a sheen of sweat on the “little” blonde’s forehead and neck, her cheeks ruddied, and an overall humid-springtime aura about her today like she’d just gone for a jog, instead of returning from classes.

“Well, of course! I think I’ve got him working better than ever now, and thought you should get the first test run,” Kayla brightly stated. “After me, obviously. I gave him a pretty good working-over already. But he’s thirsty for more, I can tell ya that much. By the way, how come you look like you just sat in a steam bath for an hour?”

“Hey, don’t be mean!” Bri griped, wrinkling her nose and fanning herself. “You know it’s hot out, they didn’t give us enough time to shower after gym class… again… plus I almost missed the bus, so I had to run, and then the air conditioning was broken. It’s just turning into a crappy day, you know?”

Cody minced. If only she knew what an understatement that was.

“Well, then it’s actually your LUCKY day!” Kayla corrected and gave the robo-slave in her fist a shake, then almost-forcibly pressed him down into Bri’s warm open hand. “Because this little loser’s whole purpose in life is helping you out in times like this. I mean, your feet are probably killing you, right?”

“Yeah, they are…” Bri relented with a shrug.

“Come on, then. I’ll show you what he’s really made for.”

Though Cody hoped Bri might claim she was too tired or bored to bother with him, she was apparently just intrigued enough, and willing to go along with her big sis’s endorsement. A minute on, the golden-haired titaness was lounged on the couch like the day before, and at Kayla’s insistence, pried her shoes off, peeled the darkly-moist socks away, then planted both heels firmly up on the cushions. Her smooth wet arches formed twin walls over Cody, who felt the ground sinking beneath him in answer to the weight of her perspiring body, and especially the petite monuments of her nude peds.

“So, what, he’s just gonna rub my feet? After I tell him to?” Bri asked.

“Pretty much. Only, there’s one thing I’ve gotta tweak on him,” Kayla said, then took out her phone. She was too high for Cody to see what she was doing from his position down on the couch, while bowed before the younger sibling’s size-7 soft salty-glistening soles, but in seconds he found the answer, when he looked up in gut-wrenching terror at Bri’s feet, which were “only” a bit over double his height before, but now seemingly enlarging, expanding proportionally into moist pink pith-creased monoliths quadruple their previous scale. Though Cody knew in the back of his mind that the Royal Footman came with an app to change its size to suit all service needs, it hadn’t sunk in how easily Kayla could shrink him down to a mere inch tall, as she had now, until it actually took place. It was already emasculating and existentially-depressing enough to know she could torture him to her heart’s content at four inches.

“Much better,” the tanned amazon replied with a more resonant boom. To Cody, Kayla now appeared over forty stories tall, and when she took a step closer to the couch to closely supervise his smallest most-shameful task yet, he felt the furniture tremble like a tectonic shift. “Go on. Tell him to get to work.”

“How’s this supposed to be better?” Bri questioned with a frown. She gazed dubiously at the miniscule android down between the creamy canyon of her bare insteps, even dipping one giant foot low enough to gently bop Cody on the head with the upper region of her heel as though to test if he was still real: a blow that pitifully knocked him on his back. “He’s so small that he doesn’t look like he could do anything to help.”

“Hey, don’t underestimate Charlie. I used to, and now I see that we’re going to be the best of friends. He may be crazy-puny… and weak… and kind of nasty… but he makes up for it in spirit, what’s on the inside, and plus his super-teeny hands can get into tight spots better,” Kayla teased. She crossed her arms, then gave the helpless silent-stricken Cody a cruel smirk and a wink when Bri wasn’t looking. “Now… I am still working out a few of his kinks, after all the technical difficulties Mom had with him. So he may not be perfect yet, but trust me: work him as hard as you can, and he’ll do his best, no matter how sad it is.”

“Okay, fine, fine. Charlie… start rubbing my heels. No slacking.”

Seeming to go along with this more because Kayla had worn her down, Bri curled all ten toes until the spiral pads paled from pressure and the laden sweat-soppiness in the balls of her feet shone brighter, as the bug-height being got vigorously to work rubbing her thick mildly-spongy heels. In the process of scrunching her digits, the soggy ripples all the way down her now-humongous arches deepened beautifully, showing off peachy-white hues and plush textures in astonishing new detail that Cody hadn’t been able to “appreciate” until he was standing before them at only an inch. Indeed these were the kinds of sights that would’ve had him drooling yesterday morning, but now he wished only to be literally anywhere else on Earth. Even the trash bin might’ve been preferable at this point, if this wish-hell truly wasn’t going to end.

“Well, that’s not as impressive as I hoped,” Kayla groused, after quietly overseeing several grueling minutes of Cody’s hardiest effort on her little sister’s naked heels. The shrinker couldn’t even disagree completely; at an inch tall, his strength was so inconsequential, he doubted he was doing much more than itchily tickling Bri, despite putting his all into punching and roughly caressing this surface suffused with sour-acidic after-school stench. More frighteningly, this base region of the barefooted underside was less absorbent then the area above, which Cody could still see imposingly displayed above, a greasy glimmer painted in every wrinkle and globs of gray jam nestled between her stubby toes, visible even from all the way down here.

“Really?” Bri asked, changing her tune. “He’s… not amazing at it or anything, but it’s okay.”

“Okay is NOT enough. Especially for how much Mom paid for him! Maybe you should make him rub the middle, too. See if that helps.”

“I guess so. This is kind of helping already though, especially since my feet hurt, so I wouldn’t want big hands on them. But okay. Charlie? Rub my soles now. And… do it even harder than you already are. All over, too. Don’t just stay in one spot.”

As Cody was far too short to reach anything except the low humps of Bri’s heels, she helpfully toppled the standing towers of her feet now, making the whole landscape from toe-to-stern more accessible to the inch-high reformed fetishist unknowingly entrapped between them. Suddenly the caustic sweat-curdling atmosphere Cody had only sampled previously was localized hotly around him, kept mostly penned in by the meaty barricades of Bri’s not-so-small size-7s. Even after several minutes spent airing out, they were still glazed with standing liquid, and speckled all along the tender underbelly with stamped-in sock lint and outdoor grit. If he still had control of his body, or even his face, Cody would’ve been knocked to his knees, hacking and spewing at the tangible mist of post-gym-class essence stickily steaming from the blonde’s central arches. But Charlie was fully at the wheel now, and so Cody only got right to work, passionately rubbing the squishy terrain of her ripe soles while cloudy sweat gushed forth from her skin in response and dribbled down his arms.

“Hey, this is kind of better,” Bri sighed to her sister after another few minutes of fragrant backbreaking labor for Cody. “I haven’t really tried him out very much before. And definitely never when he’s this small. But… you were right. It’s not bad.”

If the little guy wasn’t so fatigued, nauseous, and afraid for his future as he filthily serviced these rosily ample soles, he might’ve derived some small comfort from Bri’s half-compliment. Of course it would’ve been much better to be actually recognized and rescued, but after more than a day of constant torment and excoriation from Kayla, any positivity was an improvement.

“Not bad? Uh, I don’t think so. What he’s doing now is still terrible,” Kayla scowled. She stamped her own sneaker-clad foot for emphasis, again letting Cody feel her furious tremor all the way up through the sofa. Unbalanced, he face-planted into the sodden pad of Bri’s foot flesh, unintentionally kissing the grody mass in the act of gasping for relief. “Honestly, I’m almost embarrassed that I was talking him up to you so much before. This, seriously, is not even close to his best.”

“Really? Huh. Interesting.”

“Totally! I’m starting to think we need to test out another recalibration method on him.”

“Well, whatever you think is best. I don’t know much about these little things. You’re the expert,” Bri deferred. Then, sifting both feet inward and planting them heavily before the tinker-toy butler with another hardy thump, soles-down, she gave her plump-bulbed digits an invitational wiggle. “Charlie, get to work on my toes now. Tops, sides, bottoms, all of it. And go as hard as you can now. No holding back.”

“Suit yourself,” Kayla smarmed, whipping out her phone again while Cody started wearily primping slime-and-dreck-coated toes larger than his whole body. “But I’m going to look up that other way to fix him anyway. I think I saw it on YouTube.”

“People make videos about it? Weird,” Bri commented absentmindedly, as her attention was in fact now more curiously devoted to the one-inch servant hunkered submissively before her perky toes. She couldn’t help but make them playfully writhe as Cody gave each pliable marshmallow-chunky digit its due time, cupping her broad toeprints and clawing at the shafts with 360-degree focus. Naturally she had no way of knowing how much he wanted to gag and then pass out from exhaustion now, even if it was right upon the firm pillowy orbs of her drenched toes. With a note of almost-apologetic endearment, Bri added: “Make sure you clear all the gunky bits out of there too, Charlie. You know, all that between my toes, from my socks and the dirt and stuff? Scrape it all off. Ugh, I can’t believe how much got stuck in there today.”

“Hey, no worries, that’s exactly what miserable itty-bitty foot-boy-bots like him are for!” Kayla reassured her sister. “Don’t be shy. Anything you need done down there, he’s going to do it. Only, he’ll do it way better after I find the dumb video I was watching earlier… okay, here we go! Hold on, I’ll be right back.”

“What are you… oh, whatever,” Bri muttered, giving up, as her sister practically sprinted out of the room. She and Cody heard a clattering from the other room, and then Kayla returned with a crystal-clear drinking glass in-hand, which she wedged directly between her sister’s bare feet on the couch cushion, allowing it to remain standing. “What’s that for? There’s not even anything to drink in it.”

“You’re not the one who’s going to be doing the drinking,” Kayla taunted.

“Um, okay then. So what do I do with it? This is really from a video to help fix little foot-rubbers like Charlie?”

“You bet it is. Don’t worry, I’ll talk you through it all. It looks pretty simple. First, grab your socks.”

Cody’s consciousness was, out of robotic necessity, almost-wholly paid now to kneading Bri’s quashy toe skin, harvesting the grimy shudder-inducing jam dregs, and allowing his body to soak up the lukewarm fluid frosted across her flesh and oozing out every time he massaged with the slightest pressure. Yet even with all these repugnant distractions, it was hard not to hear Kayla’s ominous hinting and receive an even worse pit in his gut than from the appetite-killing aroma wafting out of Bri’s toe cleavage. Couldn’t she at least be kind enough to get to the terrible point already?

“My… socks? Like, the gross ones I just took off?”

“Yep! Try not to squeeze ‘em too much when you pick them up, because you have to do that over the cup.”

“Wait…” Bri melodramatically huffed, sticking out her tongue. “I’m supposed to squeeze my gnarly drippy icky socks over the cup? I thought you said somebody had to drink it!”

“He does.”

“Ohhhhh.” Suddenly understanding, the blonde cocked her head at Cody, who by now was going through another internal crisis. Plainly confused and suitably disgusted, Bri looked back up at her sister for guidance again. “You’re telling me… that if Charlie drinks a little of the sweat from my socks… also, EWWW, by the way… it’s going to make him better at his job?”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself!” Kayla congratulated. “Except one correction: he has to drink a lot of your sweat. Like, a whole puddle. Whatever you can squeeze out for him. Which is why you should be careful not to let too much of it miss the cup! Yeah, I know, it’s weird, and I don’t even know all the science myself, but there’s a lot of chemical-y stuff happening in your sweat that helps give him a little extra… boost. Like a new battery. And sometimes getting a BIG dose of it all at once is the only way to charge him back to full. Hey, can what I say? I didn’t invent him like that.”

Bri looked no closer to comprehending this sickly exercise, but Kayla spoke with such authoritative confidence, and the inch-tall lowlife at her toes was doing a good enough job already to keep her interest, that she only made a fake pre-puking sound in jest before reaching for her discarded gray ankle socks. She treated them with gentle reverence, careful not to spill a precious drop of the collected moisture that still matted down the dirty cotton stitching in tacky splotches that Cody could see even from a distance. While he continued rubbing her digits, the bottom of the glass was resting dead-ahead between Bri’s insteps. And so the miniaturized victim had to watch as the youthful giantess wrung out both socks one at a time like waterlogged washcloths, twisting and squeezing directly over the glass rim, and allowing an impressive near-unbroken trickle of her liquid foot-flavored exertion to pour down to the basin.

“Yuck-yuck-yuck!” Bri whined. “It even sounds gross on the cup!”

“Good job, keeping doing it exactly like that!” Kayla instructed. “When it’s empty, then just drop him right in there.”

When Bri had expunged every loose droplet from both socks, leaving no corner of smelly fabric un-clenched, there was an appreciable micro-pond of salty musk-thickened perspiration pooled in the cup. There were even a few dots of leftover lint floating in it like pond scum. This might not have seemed excessively gruesome if Cody was still normal height, but of course he wasn’t, and it looked comparatively like more than a gallon of the girl’s tepid debris-treated foot sweat was waiting for him, which made the shrinker feel like his stomach was turning inside-out before he’d even drawn a single salty lick of it to his lips.

The effect worsened when Bri’s fingers came to collect him, her hand still wet from thoroughly draining her socks of school-day brine, but she pulsed him tight to her clammy palm, only unfurling her fingers when she held him above the glass of her fresh-squeezed sock juices. Down the ramp he slid, straight onto the squeaky glass slope. Bri was at least compassionate enough to tilt the cup on its side so Cody didn’t plunk straight to the hard surface below, but the ride was nonetheless unpleasant, ending with a literal splash when he plowed face-first into the swampy sole-and-toe seepage at the bottom. Immediately the one-incher was half-splattered with the stuff, though there was still more than plenty left to drink.

“This seriously could not be any more gross,” Bri’s voice echoed down the glass tunnel. “But you’re absolutely positive it’s gonna make him better at rubbing my feet?”
“One hundred percent,” Kayla vowed. “Have I ever steered you wrong?”

Declining to answer, but smiling all the same, Bri pinched her nostrils closed and brought her lips as close to the cup as she dared. While her feet still kept the sweat-holding structure rooted in place upon the unsteady cushion, Cody felt doubly jailed by the side lengths of both bare peds smushed comfortably against the glass on the other side, reminding him of exactly where he was, why, and what was about to go into his throat.

“Are you sure he’s not too small to drink all that?” Bri asked. “Maybe you should make him bigger first.”

“Nah, he’s fine,” Kayla chuckled. She crouched over the cup, meeting Cody’s gaze through the glass and smiling widely at him, which was disturbing when there was already a distortion effect like a funhouse mirror making the vindictive brunette appear even larger than she was. “Aren’t ya, champ? You’re so thirsty for all that gloop, you just can’t even stand it. This is your medicine. We’re gonna get you fixed up.”

“Charlie,” Bri droned, more imperiously now. “Drink my sweat. All of it. Don’t stop until it’s gone.”

Feeling as though his heart might shrivel up from hopelessness (if indeed he still had one in this synthetic shape), Cody fell on all fours, dipped his entire face into the most generous center depth of the ultra-viscid sweat puddle, and lapped like a dog in the desert. Even with his lids shut, the stewed excretion stung his eyes and sent it up his nose too, all while his tiny robo-mouth greedily invited in lap after gooey lap. Bri’s edict forced him to work with machine-like efficiency, probably sucking up foot runoff and chewing through toejam faster than a vacuum cleaner could. It was only because of Charlie’s need to stay alive in order to keep serving his giant mistresses that the programming allowed Cody to take ragged gulps of ruinous oxygen shorter than a pro-swimmer’s before dunking his face back in the hyper-sour bog. The odor was so steeped now in the glass that it went beyond intoxicating into another realm entirely of sensory abomination, burning his gullet and pruning his tongue as the blonde’s zesty foot oils flooded into his system almost as fast as they were squeezed out of her socks before. If there was a way for him to feel lesser than he did right now, Cody wasn’t sure what it could possibly be, though he still had faith that if it did exist, Kayla would find it and then make it worse somehow.

“I can’t even believe how gross this is,” Bri reiterated yet again, though for all her complaints, she was watching Cody drink very closely now, and her tone suggested more discovery than queasiness. She bobbed her toes on the cushions and ever-so-gingerly rolled the glass between her insteps by alternately sliding her feet back and forth, which created a tiny whirlpool of her puddled sweat and briefly spun Cody in a dizzying loop that also ensured his whole inch-high self was slopped completely in her sock-sluiced gunk. Not even this was enough to halt his work, though. “Just look at him go. I guess this really doesn’t bother him at all, huh?”

“How could it?” Kayla laughed. “It’s not like there’s a person in there, no matter how much he sorta looks like one.”

“I guess you’re right. He’s just… a pretty useful thing,” Bri conceded. “Like a sock or nail clippers or something.”

“Oh, I almost forgot a step from the video! Silly me.”

“What is it? He looks like he’s almost done with this. Look at him, just licking the glass now. Yikes. But, I guess he looks happy about it. Maybe that means he’s actually getting energy out of it like you said. Am I supposed to get him out of there yet?”

Cody had successfully gulped his way through most of the wrung-out lake of Bri’s sweat grungily coalesced after an unwashed gym period, a run to the bus, and a muggy ride home in too-tight socks and shoes. With only residue left in the cup, he was no longer in danger of drowning in a puddle, but as his tongue was permanently extended now to imbibe every bitter drop, he didn’t exactly feel any better. Especially because no ounce of optimism still remained in Cody to let him believe Kayla would declare the experiment over yet.

“Not quite, nope,” she predictably answered. “We have to let him sit in there for a while. You know, give him time to process it all. But there’s one more thing they say you should try. Go ahead and give him some of your spit to drink, too. Don’t just do a baby one, though. Like, take a second and get a nice big ball of it gathered up, and really SHOOT it in there for him. Then after that, you can leave him alone with me if you want to go chill out in your room or something, and I’ll tell you when he’s all better again.”
Bri opened her mouth as though to ask a question, but seemingly have accepted all this weirdness now, just went with the flow and began undulating her cheeks, swishing saliva into a larger frothier helping. Cody could only catch glimpses of her preparing his next liquid meal, but could hear the squealing of the girl’s tongue and cheeks pressurizing to produce a worthy portion of drool, until her lips parted and the payload was expelled. Just as her sister had instructed, Bri spat out a horrendous glob of her spit like a gummy cannonball. The soppy bulk of it landed almost-squarely on Cody, followed by a thinner sputum string connected to the rest that came quickly after, all of which gelled over him like melted syrup redolent of mint gum.

“Okay, Charlie, I guess drink all that too,” Bri shrugged, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand as she stood from the couch. Having learned to enjoy her power over him for, she added more firmly: “Do it right now. I’ll be back soon. And then I guess we’ll see if you’re a better teeny-tiny foot worker, like Kayla says. Enjoy!”