---

Pete stood high on a ladder holding his soldering iron close to the projector's main circuit board. It wasn't the first time, or even the fifth. There was no avoiding it. The club's shrinking projectors needed constant maintenance. Pete had no doubt whatsoever that the origin of the shrink tech was to blame. But absolutely everything was manufactured in China, so what could be done? He often wondered. It was too expensive to make anything in the USA. That's what the reporters always said on the nightly news, when he actually had time to watch it.

It wasn't a bad gig. The pay was okay, but certainly not great. He figured he was soon due for a raise after working at the club for a little over a year. It wasn't like the club was hurting for cash. Crowds of men were practically tripping over themselves to live out their shrunken fantasies. He'd seen a few female clients as well. But there were definitely more male members. Yeah, he assured himself while he cleaned the hot tip of his soldering iron, they could afford to pay him a bit more.

Every six months, his performance was reviewed. The performance reviews were required by law due to the dangerous and sometimes controversial nature of the shrinking technology. Pete always scored high marks in all areas. His work was impeccable. The place wouldn't keep running without him. That's what the club's manager, Rachel, always told him. She wasn't fond of the made in China junk either, since it was a constant source of frustration. But Pete always made her headaches go away. And he knew deep down that she appreciated his efforts.

In addition to his technical abilities, he always got along with his fellow employees. None of the members had ever lodged a complaint against him either. But he was a little surprised after his very first performance review. He kind of expected to get written up. It was because of his crush on his boss, Rachel. She'd threatened to write him up if the unwanted advances continued, more than once. But the first performance review came and went with no write ups.

Pete could still vividly recall the first time he openly revealed his interest in her. Rachel was working in her office after hours, busy with financial reports or something. His presence went unnoticed at first. She was obviously consumed with the task at hand. Glancing down at the tiled floor, he could see her strappy sandal dangling precariously from her petite toes. The glass top of her desk gave him a nearly perfect view, when it wasn't covered with papers.

"Is there something I can help you with Pete?" Rachel looked up at him for a moment before returning her attention to her computer screen.

"I like your shoes." he blurted out rather awkwardly.

"Thanks Pete, it's sweet of you to notice."

Pete told himself that the hard part was over. He had finally broached the subject of his admiration. Men came to the club every day to shrink themselves and explore their wives' or girlfriends' footwear. Surely he could do it too! What would it hurt to ask?

"You always wear the cutest shoes!"

Rachel folded the screen of her laptop down and looked up at Pete. She looked straight into his eyes. "Is there something on your mind, Pete?"

He could feel the excitement bubbling up within him. Now was his chance! "I was wondering," he took a deep breath, "if you would let me explore your shoes some time. I don't mean right now! I know you're super busy. But maybe some time next week? You can pick the shoes. Any of your shoes would be cool. I would only borrow them for 45 minutes, maybe an hour tops. Then I'd bring them right back."

"Pete, have a seat." Rachel motioned to one of the chairs in front of her desk. After he seated himself, she continued. "I'll tell you the same thing I tell everyone else who asks."

"No? Are you going to say no?" he interrupted.

"That's right. No."

Pete could already feel his excitement fading away, replaced with an overwhelming sense of rejection. "It's just that, I can't stop thinking about it! I know it would be an amazing experience. Only once, and then I'll never bother you again. What if I say please?"

"What if I remind you that I'm your boss, and this is highly inappropriate?"

Her stern gaze made him shift uncomfortably in the stiff chair. "Geez, sorry I asked."

"I highly doubt that. Anyway, there's a problem with the projector in Suite 3. Please go and fix it."

He had been all too happy to flee the awkward situation at the time, but had never completely given up since. If he could just think of the right thing to say, then he knew Rachel would listen. It was all about the wording and the mood. There had to be a way.

That was then, but today would be different. His repairs completed, he stood in the long hallway between the various suites on either side of him. Rachel was seated at the main reception desk, prepared to welcome any incoming members. It had been a rather slow day. She lazily flipped through the pages of a magazine. Rachel was a stunner, a real Asian beauty. He often caught himself staring. He couldn't help it. If he could only think of the right words to break down her defenses!

"The answer is still no, Pete." Rachel called out to him without even looking up from her magazine.

"I figured as much." he answered back.

"Go and run diagnostics on the projector in Suite 4. People are complaining that the shrinking process is taking longer than it used to."

Yep, he thought, it's definitely time for a raise.

---

On the way to Suite 4, Pete spotted his coworker handing a man her shoes. Jill accepted a wad of cash from the man, quickly stuffing it down the front of her shirt. Then the man disappeared into Suite 2 with a huge smile plastered across his face.

It wasn't the first time he'd seen Jill making a little extra money on the side. Rachel's view on the matter was that anything keeping the members happy was probably good for the club. As long as Jill didn't break the rules, she was free to do as she pleased. Pete could understand why Jill was sought after by some of the members. She was a tall, slender young woman with a surfer's body. There was one time she even came to work wearing a wetsuit, straight from the beach he assumed. But of course Rachel had made her change into something more appropriate. Still, it was difficult to forget the way that wetsuit hugged her natural curves. Pete would never call Jill a blond bombshell to her face, but the description fit her perfectly. He noticed that she was walking towards him.

"So how much did you make this time?" he asked.

Jill playfully poked Pete with her index finger. "You know, I'll never understand this weird fetish you people have." She grinned as she took a cheap pair of foam sandals from her purse. "But I've got 500 reasons not to complain!" Jill dropped her flip flops to the floor and casually slipped into them, dramatically wiggling her long toes purely for Pete's benefit.

"I wish I could make money that easily."

"You're not kidding! I didn't even sell them to him. Tom's only borrowing them for a couple of hours. That's one heck of a rental fee, right? Right?"

"Yeah. That's a lot of money."

"So what's up Pete, or did you just come and find me to admire my new pedicure? Not that I'd blame you," Jill spread the toes of her right foot, fanning them out as if she were admiring them. Only it was Pete doing the admiring.

"N-No! I was just--"

"Oh relax stud, I know that you're head over heels for Rachel. But I still get to tease you, because I'm a pretty girl too."

"Y-Yes."

"What am I going to do with you Pete? All I have to do is wiggle my toes, and you trip all over yourself. You'll have to do a lot better than that if you want to hook a babe like Rachel. We'll work on it. Anyway, what was it you needed. I know the boss lady has you fixing something or whatever."

"She wants me to test the projector in Suite 4. It would go a lot faster with a little help."

"Okay boss, lead the way."

Pete entered the suite with Jill in tow. With Jill operating the projector manually, he could concentrate completely on the diagnostics. She flipped open a panel on the wall beside the suite's door, retrieving a remote control. Removing the remote automatically disabled the projector's autonomous mode. Normally all a person had to do was walk to the center of the room, and then the shrinking process would automatically commence. Leaving the center of the room would trigger the reversion process.

"Okay boss, say when." She trained the remote on Pete as if it were a gun.

Pete smiled at her typical silliness. It was a Bluetooth remote, paired with the projector. There was no need to aim it at anything. She could point it anywhere and it would still function properly. But that would be less dramatic.

"Go ahead and shoot me." He played along with her antics, pretending like a bullet struck him when she pushed the shrink button.

Jill watched as a beam of red light enveloped Pete, causing him to rapidly dwindle in size. She had only seen it a few times before, so it was still an interesting sight. Staff were strictly forbidden from entering suites being used by members. If the sign on the suite's door said occupied, it meant KEEP OUT. That was the club's #1 safety rule. And it was a zero tolerance, fireable offense. The only exception being entry in case of emergency, which had never happened on Jill's watch.

It was Jill's job to police the hallway leading to the suites. And she took her job very seriously. Rachel had drilled it into her. Only one person at a time was allowed access to a suite. It was also Jill's responsibility to explain the rules to any new members, and provide detailed instructions on the suites if necessary. To an outsider, it might appear that Jill was nothing more than a glorified greeter. But the club's safety record spoke for itself. She was doing something right.

"How long was it?"

"What?" Jill looked down at the tiny man on the floor.

"How long did the shrinking process take?"

"How should I know?"

Jill could hear Pete just fine, thanks to the directional microphones pointed at the center floor of the room. Even though their sizes were now vastly different, they could still carry on a conversation as two normal-sized people would.

"You were supposed to time the shrinking process." His voice bellowed out of the speakers embedded in the walls.

"You never told me that!" Jill griped. "I'm not psychic."

"Oh right, I forgot to explain. Rachel said people are complaining that this projector is malfunctioning."

Pete felt the floor start to shake as Jill moved in for a closer look. If he weren't currently tiny, there's no way he would normally be able to feel Jill's footsteps. Her huge feet stopped right at the yellow hazard line. The yellow line emblazoned in a circle on the suite's matted floor marked the perimeter of the shrinking zone. It also served as an additional KEEP OUT warning. Pete immediately noticed the tips of Jill's flip flops had crossed over the line.

"What do you mean it isn't working? You look tiny to me."

"I know, but the shrinking process is only supposed to take four to eight seconds. People are complaining it's taking longer."

"Whatever, I'll revert you and then shrink you again so we can time it. Members complain about the dumbest things."

"It kind of makes sense though. They ARE being charged for their time in the suite. Time is money and all of that."

A loud sigh signaled Pete that he was wrong to disagree. The floor shook again as Jill crouched down, moving even closer to him. Now both of her feet were all the way inside the perimeter line. She had a condescending expression on her face.

"What difference does three or four seconds make? We don't charge by the second, it's an hourly rate. It's just something frivolous to complain about, probably because of buyer's remorse."

"Okay. Okay. You're right." Pete conceded. "Now can you back up a little? You're inside the hazard line."

"Yes Pete, I know you're there. I can see you just fine. You know that I'd never hurt you. Besides, you'd probably enjoy it if I stepped on you." Jill fiddled with the remote in her hand. "Let me find the revert button. It's been so long since I've used this stupid thing. And the print is so tiny."

Pete took in the sight of his giant coworker while she studied the remote control. Her tight jeans stopped at her shapely ankles. She was balancing all of her weight on the balls of her feet and her toes, with her heels raised in the air. Her toes were firmly planted into the white foam of her flip flops. Pete felt that she had strong, athletic-looking feet. If those toes ever got a hold of him, they could easily break him in half. Or maybe he would simply be crushed beneath them in a single mighty step.

"Found it!"

Everything turned greenish as the revert light enveloped Pete's body. He was standing at his full height again after what seemed like only a few seconds. It was difficult to be sure without timing the process. Jill rose from her crouched position, standing to her full height as well. Now they were both looking into each other's eyes. This was the usual view Pete was accustomed to. Except whenever Jill happened to wear heels, then she was taller than him.

"Next time dummy, tell me what I'm supposed to be doing!" She smacked him upside the head with the projector remote, but lightly.

"Hey, careful! Don't break it. Then I'll have to fix that too."

Jill giggled as she tugged her phone from her hip pocket, activating the timer app with a rapid series of swipes and taps. She pressed the shrink button again, without issuing a warning for Pete. This time, she timed the process from big to small as per his instructions.

"There. It was 9.5 seconds. So that's too long, right? Pete?"

"Don't move Jill."

"Huh?" She looked up from her phone's screen. "Did you hear me? It was 9.5 seconds. Hold on, something is tickling my foot."

Somehow when he had shrunk, Pete ended up on top of Jill's left foot. It must have been because they were standing too close together in the center of the room. He was barely moving, but apparently it was just enough to agitate her sensitive skin. Pete watched in abject horror as Jill slipped her right foot from its flip flop. It was coming to rub out the source of whatever was irritating her left foot. He screamed as her massive toes were about to crash down on top of him.

"Jill! I said don't move! Stop moving!"

"What is going on? Why are you yelling at me Pete? Is this some kind of game?"

Jill looked down at the floor. Pete wasn't there. She was about to rub the ticklish spot on her left foot, but she felt something moving beneath her toes. After she moved her right foot slightly to the side, she saw Pete on top of her left foot.

"Oh my God Pete, why are you on my foot?! I almost--"

"This is why I told you to back up behind the hazard line!"

"Stop yelling at me! I'm sorry! I almost killed you. I'm going to lose my job. I love this job. Rachel's going to yell at me too. I hate it when she yells at me!"

Pete breathed a sigh of relief as he sensed the immediate danger was over. He also sensed Jill was about to start crying. She was scared, possibly on the brink of hysteria.

"Calm down Jill. Nothing bad happened. Just stay still, and I'll climb down. Just don't move. Whatever you do, don't move." Pete made sure he didn't raise his voice again, because she was clearly upset enough already.

"Okay," Jill whimpered.

Pete breathed a second sigh of relief as Jill sheathed her right foot back into its flip flop. Gazing upward, it was difficult not to appreciate the moment. It would have been sexy, being at the feet of a statuesque beauty, if he wasn't in so much danger. The danger definitely took some of the thrill out of it. There was also a smell starting to develop. Jill was sweating nervously.

That was his cue to start moving. This situation wasn't getting any better for either of them. Pete took a second to survey his surroundings and plan his escape route. Jill had long narrow feet with long powerful toes. The safest path would be along the top of her foot, down between her toes, and then jump from the tip of her sandal. And he had better get moving before her skin was slick with perspiration and he accidentally slipped and slid off the side of her foot. The suite floor was padded to protect against falls, but he didn't feel like taking any chances.

"Pete that tickles! It really itches. Can't you move without tickling me so much?"

"I don't know how! I've never done this before. Just hang in there. I'm moving as fast as I can."

"You're making me nervous Pete. I get sweaty when I'm nervous. My feet will start to stink. Hurry up!"

"Relax, you have beautiful feet. I don't smell anything." Part of it was true at least. He really did believe her feet were pretty.

With some effort, and a protest of giggles high above, he made it to the tops of her toes. The smell was much stronger at the front of her foot. A pungent, sour aroma invaded his nostrils. He wasn't sure how well Jill could see him, but he resigned himself to show absolutely no signs of being grossed out by her foot odor. Jill was his friend, and he didn't want to hurt her feelings. It was ironic in a way. Even with his attraction to lovely females and their feet, this was actually the first time he had ever smelled a woman's feet. But at his current diminutive size, it was a powerful dose of reality. Pete knew that at his normal height, he would never be able to smell Jill's feet. She did not have stinky feet. He would have to get down on his hands and knees, and then bury his nose between her toes. But that was at his normal height, now he was about to lower his entire body into the cramped space between her sweaty toes. Looking down at his destination, the insole of her sandal, he noticed a sweat stain forming.

"I'm about to slide down to the flip flop. It will probably tickle. Remember, you have to remain still." Pete glanced up to see Jill nodding in agreement. She was biting her bottom lip in preparation for the worst.

Pete took one last look around before the final plunge. Her toenails were painted a shiny red color. Some women had little hairs on their toes, but not Jill. There was nothing but smooth, tanned skin. One thing was for sure, no man had ever been this close to Jill's feet before.

"Jill, spread your toes a little. I'm going to climb down the strap between them."

Pete positioned himself at the top of the strip of fabric while Jill fanned out her toes for him. It would be something like that old board game, Operation. A buzzer would go off in the game if you touched the sides. Only, this was real life. If he inadvertently tickled the sides of her mighty toes, she might accidentally crush him. It would be a bit worse than a buzzer going off.

He started his descent down the thin piece of fabric stretched between her toes. Her big toe on his right and her second toe on his left completely dwarfed him in size. They were monstrous compared to his minuscule form. He had to grip the material firmly. It was lathered with Jill's foot sweat.

"You're doing fine Jill. It won't be much longer. Just keep holding still for me."

Jill watched the shrunken man climbing around between her toes. She knew she was perspiring. She could feel it. It felt like holding her left foot perfectly still was taking all of her concentration. If she stopped focusing for more than a second, she might move involuntarily and injure Pete.

"Does my foot stink?" Jill instantly regretted asking. As soon as the words left her lips she was overcome with embarrassment.

"It smells like a sexy woman down here."

"That's so gross!" Jill giggled loudly. His response made her feel better, even if it wasn't the truth. "Don't make me laugh, damn it! I'm trying to hold still!"

It was difficult for Pete NOT to notice the smell. He was sandwiched in between the fleshy walls of a giant's toes. It felt like her foot odor was clinging to his body. If the odor wasn't, her perspiration certainly was. His clothing was drenched in sweat. Admittedly, some of it was his own, but it was mostly from Jill's foot. Every breath he took was filled with humid, hot air. He was literally breathing his coworker's foot funk. By the time he reached the insole of her sandal, he would probably feel like her toe jam.

As Pete was nearing the bottom, one of his hands slipped. He lost his grip on the fabric, sending him swaying to the side. Instinctively, he reached for anything to steady himself. His hand brushed against the side of Jill's big toe before he could pull it back. Jill gasped loudly, pinching her toes together without realizing it. She took a deep breath and held it until the ticklish feeling subsided. Looking down, she nearly screamed. Her toes were clenched tightly together, probably squeezing the life out of tiny Pete.

"Oh no! Pete! Are you okay?" Jill quickly unclenched her toes. "Pete? Say something Pete!"

"I-I," Pete struggled to take in a breath. "I-I'm okay."

Jill could hear Pete having trouble breathing. She knew he was struggling to take in as much of the smelly air between her toes as he could. It must have been horrible.

"Y-You knocked the wind out of me. I'm okay though. Please don't do that again."

He didn't want to scare her, but she did a lot more than knock the wind out of him. She almost broke his ribs, like all of them. All of his muscles and joints were hurting after her playful little squeeze. He almost wondered how the thin piece of fabric he was desperately clinging to could withstand such constant torture. It was a miracle her powerful toes hadn't wrenched it loose from the sandal's insole. The strength of her toes was incredible. They could kill a man with ease.

The muscles in his arms started to cramp as he neared the bottom. They were sore from climbing. They were sore from hanging on for dear life as Jill's toes squeezed the marrow from his bones. He lost his grip and fell the last ten feet, landing face first on the insole of her flip flop. The white foam felt moist and squishy. The smell of her feet intensified a hundred fold. Some of her sour, salty sweat seeped its way into his mouth. Like smelling it wasn't bad enough, now he was tasting Jill's feet. Her sweat burned his taste buds, overstimulating his senses. The oppressive odor and pungent taste made him dizzy.

He was almost free. If he could drag himself along the soggy foam, he would reach his goal. Pete crawled on his stomach. He felt too weak to get up. He resigned himself to crawling inside Jill's shoe like a wounded insect. The foam was a porous material, so he had plenty of good handholds to pull himself along. The problem was his arms. His muscles were burning. He was past her toes. He wasn't trapped between them any longer. If he could keep going, only a little further, he would reach the edge of her flip flop.

Pete began to wonder if her foot would actually let him go. Any second now, her foot might lift ever so slightly. If that happened, he would slide backwards uncontrollably. His body would slip back under her toes, then slide even further until he was beneath her meaty sole. It would be the end of his meager existence. He would become a part of the dark stain her foot had left behind on the sandal, a permanent addition to her ground-in footprint.

"I made it." Pete called out weakly, pulling himself over the edge of her sandal. He fell roughly to the matted floor below. It didn't feel good, but he knew he didn't sustain any injuries from the fall.

"Oh thank God! I'll hit the revert button."

"No wait! Back up first, behind the hazard line!"

"Oh yeah! Okay, I got it. I got it."

Jill backed away from the center of the room as she pressed the button. She watched the familiar green glow envelop him once again. When the process was complete, Pete was lying on his back groaning softly.

"Phew," Jill sighed loudly. "That was tough! I wasn't sure I could hold my foot still much longer. It's a good thing you got out as soon as you did."

Pete laid limply on the floor, waiting for enough energy to return so he could stand up. His mouth still tasted like the feet of the beautiful woman standing over him. Even though he was bigger now and finally out of her footwear, the scent of her feet was still stuck in his nose. Every muscle in his body ached. Part of him wondered if he was truly feeling what it was like to be stepped on by a giant woman.

"Don't be such a baby," Jill giggled. "It wasn't THAT bad."

Jill helped Pete up, practically lifting him from the floor by herself. He didn't help much. Once he was back on his feet again, Jill hugged him.

"I'm glad you're okay. I was so scared! I thought you were going to die or something down there."

Pete didn't have the heart to tell her that he nearly did. He was thankful she was hugging him. He wasn't sure he had enough stamina to stand on his own just yet. Her hair smelled nice. He could feel her large breasts pushing against his chest. If he wanted to, he could probably kiss her pretty face.

"Um Pete, do we have to tell Rachel about this? I think she would be really, really mad at me. I was careless, and you know how she feels about that. I promise it won't ever happen again!"

"Do you have some water?" Pete pleaded, his throat still burning from swallowing so much of Jill's perspiration.

"Uh," Jill rifled through her bag, "I think so." She handed him a half empty bottle of water. He instantly emptied it the rest of the way.

"But Pete, I'm serious, do we have to tell Rachel about this? You know she scares me. I really hate when she yells at me."

Pete placed his hand on Jill's shoulder. "We don't have to tell her anything. It never happened."

"Thanks Pete!" She hugged him again, with renewed enthusiasm.

"Thanks for not squishing me."

"But I thought that's what all you little foot freaks fantasized about." Jill teased.

"No Jill, I'm not a bug. I don't want to die under a foot."

"Oh really! What if it was Rachel's perfect little foot?"

"I can't enjoy it if I'm dead."

"It sure looks like you were enjoying something down there. Was it my feet?" Jill traced her fingers down Pete's pant leg, pinching his not so well hidden hard on between her thumb and index finger.

Jill turned to leave, but had one last thing to say before exiting the suite. "Let me know when you get tired of waiting for the Ice Queen."

After Jill left the suite, Pete limped through the exit. His leg hurt. He slumped down with his back against the wall in the hallway. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a vision of loveliness drifting gracefully towards him. His eyesight was a little blurry.

"Rachel?" he called out wearily.

"What the hell happened to you?!"

---

Pete woke feeling groggy. His head hurt. His body hurt. He was lying in his bed in his apartment, but couldn't recall how he got home the night before. The last thing he could remember was leaving Suite 4 after being manhandled by Jill's toes. Everything past that was basically blank.

But there were more important things to worry about, like a full bladder. Sitting up made his head spin. Maybe it was time to rethink this whole foot fetish thing? He considered it momentarily. He had barely survived his encounter with Jill. It felt like he was living the aftermath of a drunken bender, minus all the fun. Pete trudged off to the bathroom in his boxers.

Even though he lived alone, Pete still closed the bathroom door. It was habit. He always closed the door. The toilet awaited as he assumed the position. Mid-stream, the bathroom door swung open, startling him.

"Oh sorry! I thought you were still asleep!"

The door swung shut again, leaving Pete confused. The sound of his stream hitting the toilet seat instead of the water in the bowl drew his attention. "Shit!" He struggled to correct his aim. "Rachel?!"

"Sorry Pete, I didn't mean to interrupt. I need to finish my makeup."

"But why are you in my apartment?"

"Don't you remember anything from yesterday?"

"Not really," he admitted.

"You don't remember Jill's fee--"

"Yeah, I remember that part. It's the rest of it that's all fuzzy."

"Well, you were exhausted. So I drove you home. Anyway, finish up and meet me in the kitchen. I made breakfast."

Pete wiped up the mess he made then washed his hands. He noticed Rachel's cosmetics spread across the countertop. She must have spent the night, he figured. Pete wanted to kick himself. He missed the whole thing. He was unconscious the whole time.

"Hurry up Pete, the food is getting cold."

"Uh, coming!" He wondered what food she was talking about. It had been more than a week since he'd been to the store. The last thing he remembered putting in his fridge was whatever was left of a pizza. Did she reheat it?

Rachel set a plate in front of him, piled high with scrambled eggs and bacon. "I had to restock your fridge. You were out of, uh, like everything."

"You spent the night?" he asked.

"It didn't feel right leaving you here alone. You were really out of it. I had to... Well we can talk about that later! You're up and you're feeling better. That's what's important."

"You had to what?"

"How's the bacon? Is it crisp enough?" Rachel smiled.

"What aren't you telling me?"

"I don't know if I told you I used to be a nurse. I think I did. So it's not like this was the first time I've ever given someone a sponge bath."

Pete suddenly felt completely emasculated.

"Don't look at me like that. I had to! You smelled horrible, and your clothes were filthy. I don't know if I'll ever get the smell of Jill's rotten feet out of my BMW. What was I supposed to do? Push you out onto the curb and drive off?"

"Th-Thanks."

"You seemed more comfortable after I cleaned you up. Then I made you some soup and you went to bed."

Pete was crying inside. He was nothing more than a baby to Rachel. A baby that needed to be washed and fed. He would make Jill pay for embarrassing him in front of Rachel.

"Look, I know what you're thinking and it's not a big deal. Sure, I saw you naked. But it's no big deal. You see people naked all the time when you're a nurse. It's part of the job. You get used to it."

Pete nearly choked on his scrambled eggs. This was getting more awkward and embarrassing by the second. For the very first time since he'd known her, he wished Rachel would just shut up.

"Anyway, I washed your clothes. You don't have a washer or dryer, so I used the sink."

"Did we sleep togeth--"

"I slept on your sofa. It was uncomfortable."

"You didn't have to do that! You should have taken the bed."

"You were uncomfortable enough already. Sleeping on a couch all night would have made you even more stiff and sore."

"This mess is all my fault. I should have been more careful."

"It looked like it was all Jill's fault to me."

"No, that's not true! It was me. I wasn't being careful." Pete could tell Rachel wasn't buying it.

"We have security cameras, doofus. I saw the whole thing. She was standing inside the shrinking zone. You're lucky that airhead didn't kill you."

"You didn't say anything to her did you? She told me she was sorry. I know she meant it. She won't do it again."

Rachel smiled confidently. "I yelled at her."

Pete covered his face with both of his hands and groaned. "Jill is never going to forgive me."

"Yep, we had a lengthy discussion. I yelled at her. Then she started crying. She probably thought turning on the tears would make me feel guilty for yelling at her."

"Actually, I think she's just afraid of you." Pete interjected.

"Anyway, the tears didn't stop. So then I screamed at her until she was nothing but a curled up ball of nerves and snot huddling in the corner of my office. For such a tall girl, she sure can make herself small. I swear, she folded up like an accordion or something."

"Jesus Christ Rachel!"

"Then I dragged her bony ass to Suite 4, shrank her down, and ordered her to stare at the hazard line for the rest of the day. I told her if she decided to leave before I dismissed her that she was fired."

Pete knew his jaw was hanging open. He could feel it. He glanced down to make sure it wasn't actually touching the floor.

His shocked expression made Rachel laugh. "You can say whatever you want. I don't care. One thing's for DAMN sure, Surfer Barbie won't ever forget to stay behind the hazard line again. Yes sir, we are crystal clear on that one."

"Are you going to yell at me too?"

"Only if you don't show up for work tomorrow. You still need to fix the projector in Suite 4. I timed it when I shrank Jill. The customers were right. It really is functioning outside of optimal parameters."

"Yes, 9.5 seconds, I know."

"Okay, well you rest up for today and then I'll see you bright and early tomorrow morning." Rachel set her empty plate in the sink. " Let me grab my things, and then I'll be off to the club."

Pete waited for Rachel to leave the kitchen then picked up his phone to call Jill. A sheepish voice answered with a weak hello.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"She screamed at me, Pete. And she was throwing things!"

"I'm sorry, Jill. I didn't tell her anything."

"I know. She made me watch the security footage before she deleted it."

"Don't do anything crazy, Jill. You know, like quit or something. Everything will be alright."

"Me?! You're telling me not to do something crazy? Do you know what she did to me?"

"Um, she mentioned something about shrinking you. But you know, we all went through that during orientation anyway."

"She pulled my hair! When I wouldn't come out of the corner of her office, she yanked my hair. Then she dragged me to Suite 4, by the hair. After she shrank me, she took her flats off. She made me sit in her smelly shoe for the rest of the day."

"I'll talk to her. It sounds like she went too far."

"You think?! I don't get it though. I can't figure out why she was so mad. I mean, you're okay right?"

"Ow!" Something smacked the back of his head.

Pete looked behind him. Rachel was standing behind him holding her shoe in her hand. She reached out and pressed the End Call button on his phone's large screen.

"I was mad because she could have killed you!" She bonked him on the head with her shoe again. "Understand?"

"Stop doing that!" Pete rubbed the top of his head.

"I think you're both thick headed. Someone has to keep the two of you out of trouble."

Pete watched as Rachel lowered her black leather flat to the floor. It was probably the same shoe that Jill had spent the afternoon in the day before. He knew Rachel didn't buy cheap shoes. These designer flats with gold buckles didn't look cheap either. The ornamental buckles were probably made from real gold. Inside the shoe, the inner walls were decorated with a stylish leopard print. The thick, padded insole was colored gold to match the buckle. Rachel's ballet flat looked as comfortable as it was fashionable.

"You aren't going to put Jill in your shoe again today, are you?"

Rachel tapped her bare foot beside the empty leather flat while she thought about her answer. The ball of her foot slapped against the kitchen's tiled floor noisily. Her toes rose and fell rythmically. "I might, if I feel like it. Maybe I'll put my foot in there with her so she doesn't get lonely." She stepped inside her waiting shoe right as she said it, sliding her toes forward and lowering her heel in one fluid motion. It was a perfect fit.

Now all Pete could think about was Jill trapped inside Rachel's sexy little shoe, pinned to that golden insole beneath her silky smooth sole. But he knew it was a bluff. She was just blowing off steam. Rachel would never break her own rules like that. It would make her a total hypocrite.

"Ow! Damn it! What was that for?" Pete forgot about her second shoe.

"You know what it was for. You were having some kind of weird sexual fantasy about Jill inside my shoe!"

"Was not..." he rubbed the dull throb above his forehead.

She smacked him again, but on his arm near the bicep. "That was for lying."

Rachel raised her left foot from the floor, bending her knee. She slipped the mouth of the flat over her petite toes and then pulled the back of the shoe up over her narrow heel. "And these flats don't stink in case you were wondering. Jill's full of it."

Pete knew Rachel was waiting for a reason to smack him again, but he decided not to give her the satisfaction. Instead, he returned to eating his breakfast.

"But if I do put her back in my shoe, maybe I'll take a picture for you. I bet you'd like that!" Rachel laughed as she walked out the front door. "Call me if you need anything."

---

"Where are the pickles and the tomatoes," Pete asked as he rifled through the fridge in the club's employee break room.

"I dunno Pete, wherever you left them. No one touched your food." Jill returned her attention to her smartphone.

The toaster dinged, popping up two piping hot slices of bread. "Never mind, I found them."

"Can you believe Rachel hasn't scolded us today?"

"Why would she? Didn't she already take care of that yesterday?"

"I know, but, we're talking about Rachel. She doesn't let things go that easily. You know what I'm saying, Pete."

"Did she really put you in her shoe? That's not like her at all. She doesn't let anyone near her shoes, not even the rich customers."

"I already told you she did. Why would I lie about something like that?"

"But like, you were seriously inside Rachel's shoe? Was it nice? I mean, like was it soft? I bet it was really comfortable!"

"It was a shoe, Pete. I'm not sexually attracted to Rachel's feet. What is it you want me to say?"

"But it was cool, right? Like exploring an alien landscape?"

"No, it wasn't cool actually. The inside was still warm, from her foot."

"Oh man, that is so hot! What did it smell like?"

"You did not just ask me that... That is, like, SO gross! I'm not having this conversation."

"Why couldn't it have been me?! She should punish me too!"

"Letting you blow your load in her shoe would be a reward, not punishment. Don't even bother asking her to punish you. It won't turn out the way you're hoping. Rachel isn't stupid."

"That is so unfair. I hate double standards!"

Rachel poked her head in the break room. "My office. Five minutes." She left as quickly as she had appeared.

"I'm not going back in her stupid shoe. I'm not doing that again today!"

"Don't worry Jill, if it comes to that, I'll take one for the team."

"You are such a pervert! When you close your eyes at night, I bet you dream about her feet. You don't understand my suffering at all."

"What's the big deal? You've been in a shoe before. It was part of the orientation training when you were hired. Everyone does it."

"Pete, do you remember orientation? It wasn't my boss's favorite ballet flats that she had been wearing all morning long. It was a brand new, never been worn, pair of cheap flip flops. There's a huge difference!"

"That's strange. The flip flops I explored during orientation had toe prints. They weren't dirty or anything, but they were definitely showing signs of wear."

"You probably imagined it. I'm sure you had all sorts of wild fantasies while you were jerking off."

"I didn't--"

"Yes you did. I know you did. You can't fool me, Pete. That was your first time being shrunk in a shoe. Someone like you? Nuh uh. There's no way you could resist."

"Whatever, let's just go to her office and get chewed out. Might as well get it over with..."

Pete and Jill left the employee break room and silently walked down the halls toward Rachel's office. Her office was tucked into a corner of the building, away from prying eyes. In a club designed for catering to pervy clientele, privacy was a rare luxury.

"You can wipe those sullen looks off your faces; I wasn't planning to chew you out." Rachel spun her laptop around so that the screen was facing Pete and Jill. "I want you to watch this. I know young people barely pay attention to the news any more, but this is something that both of you need to see."

Pete sat hunched over in one of the chairs facing Rachel's desk. The computer screen was showing news footage from some channel in New York. They were currently playing video taken from a surveillance camera. It looked like a shrinking suite, much like the ones in their own club. The camera was focused on a man in the center of the suite, who appeared to be in the process of fixing something.

Another video playing side by side with the first, showed a woman with red hair entering the suite and removing her shoes. She walked obliviously toward the shrunken man in the center of the room. The footage from the camera focused on the tiny man showed her giant foot coming down on top of him. He disappeared under her painted toes. The woman seemed to notice something strange underneath her and moved her foot. When her toes lifted, the man's legs appeared to be bent at odd, unnatural angles. He was thrashing about wildly, waving his arms in some frantic attempt to ward off any more attacks from her deadly feet.

"She stepped right on him!" Jill gasped.

The news channel switched from surveillance videos to a live shot of the red haired woman speaking with one of their reporters.

"I found out my husband was secretly coming here, doing that thing men do, where they shrink themselves to fit inside your shoes."

"Were you concerned he was cheating on you with another woman's footwear," the reporter asked.

"Not at all," the tall redhead laughed. "I'm a total catch. Bill is madly in love with me. I don't know why he didn't just tell me. He didn't have to sneak around. I've even let my boss explore my shoes before. You should have seen the poor guy. I've worked with him for years. He only recently worked up the nerve to ask me. He could barely get the words out, he was so nervous. I bet he was scared to death. He nearly fainted when I asked him which pair of my shoes was his favorite!"

"If you don't mind me asking," the reporter interrupted, "why WERE you at the club then? I mean, if you weren't worried about your husband's secret outings, and you're completely okay with this sort of thing."

"Curiosity. That's all really. I wanted to see what the big deal was, so I thought I would have a go at exploring my own shoes. Everybody else was doing it..."

"Tell us what went wrong. I know that's the question on all our viewers' minds."

"It's a very easy question to answer. That club sucks, is what happened. The airheaded space cadet attending to the guests gave me the wrong suite key. As far as I knew, the suite was empty. I stepped inside, took off my shoes, and walked into the center of the room. Before I could bend down to set my shoes in the center of the circle, I felt something crunch under my toes. When I moved my foot, there was a shrunken man lying where my toes had been. His legs were broken! He was obviously screaming in pain, but I couldn't hear him because the suite's microphone system wasn't working. That's why he was there. He worked there. He was the unlucky technician sent to fix that suite. His dumb coworker almost got him killed. He's fine now, thank god, but he still has two broken legs. The doctor said he'll make a full recovery. I bet he'll have nightmares about me stepping on him for the rest of his life though."

"That is such a tragic story. An accident like that should have been completely avoidable."

"I'm not a lawyer, but the manager of that club needs to be charged with criminal negligence or something. I know I'm the one who squished that poor bastard, but it totally wasn't my fault. The way they run that place... It's a miracle no one has died!"

Rachel closed the lid of her laptop. "I hope that was instructive. All of these tedious rules and safety checks we have can be a pain, sure, but you see the alternative. No one is getting 'squished' on my watch!"

"I won't slip up again," Jill blurted out.

"What we do here is dangerous. People could die. ALL of us, would do well to remember that. I'm not lecturing you for fun. If anything, it's fear. I don't want someone to get hurt or killed. That's on us if that happens. We have to live with it."

"It was my fault too, Rachel. Jill isn't the only one to blame. I wasn't being careful either. I saw that she was standing inside the circle, and I didn't make her back up. That was my mistake."

"No Pete, it was my faul--"

"Okay, you're both sorry. That's good. Now learn something from that experience. Let's all get back to work and pretend this never happened. We're here to make the customers happy. Safe customers are happy customers. They can't pay us if they're dead."

"Why are you crying Jill? Are you serious right now? I'm not yelling. I didn't throw anything. I'm being as nice as I can here..."

"No, it's not that." Jill sniffled. "You saw that video. She stepped right on that shrunken man. I almost... I almost did that to Pete."

"Pete, hand her a tissue."

"I'm fine Jill." He delivered the box of tissues from Rachel's desk. "You didn't squish me."

"But I could have," Jill whimpered. "I'd never do that to you Pete, never!"

"I know you wouldn't," he hugged her supportively. "You wouldn't do that to anyone."

"Okay, we had a good cry. Let's stop torturing ourselves over something that didn't happen and get back to work."