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Story Notes:

Okay, so I swear I'm working on Friday Morning, and another Titan-Mod story, and the second part of the supervillain thing, and like a completely new multi-branched story in the Morning series, of which this is a part, and at least one other completely non-related, magical witch-based story, and . . . you know I think I may have a problem with finishing stories . . .

Still, thank you so much for reading, please enjoy.

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As she pulled on the rope, string really, she couldn't maintain the grim countenance that she wanted. It was just too funny to see what had been a six-four man, fit and strong above almost all others, confident beyond reproach, failing to best two of her fingers in a tug of war.


The string, taut, ran from her hand, between her hallux and long toe, almost as far again to where it was securely tied to the makeshift collar, fabricated from a bread tie, around the shrunken man's neck.


Almost as satisfying as watching him stumble with every gentle tug from her fingers was the panic in his face, the tears rolling down his face, and the squeaking pleas that grew more and more desperate with each jerking step closer to the sole of her foot he was forced to take.


The once intimidating man had almost given up trying to pull against her on the rope, and had turned most of his efforts to freeing himself from the collar it was attached to. He was having about as much success as he had pulling on the rope.


"If you don't put some in real effort here, you're going to end up stuck to the bottom of my foot." She taunted, echoing some of his own words to her at the gym a week ago while she was fighting to improve her bench weight.


She hadn't expected that her spotter, who had pushed so hard to hook up with her, would've been one of the late contractors of the shrinking virus, especially given how frequently he seemed to make the rounds at the gym. It was a bit surprising to her that he hadn't contacted it prior to their hook up.


Surprising in a good way, like getting two items from a vending machine. She had the rare pleasure of enjoying being bent over the seat of a recumbent bike one evening, with a fit gym rat railing her from behind, to riding that same gym rat at his apartment later that night, and now, after waking up to find him shrunken small enough to fit in her sneaker, enjoying the prospect of making him do whatever crossed her fancy the next morning.


She had no particular malice for him, when he had been six-four and two hundred pounds, he was sexy and fucked enthusiastically enough, but she really enjoyed the power she had over him now that he was shorter than her foot was long.


The fact that he had recoiled in disgust when her foot touched his leg after she had exhausted both of them riding his cock only served to fuel the mild sadism she normally kept suppressed. She had requested a foot rub, right then and there, just to antagonize him, but with his shrunken state, the situation had turned out so much more enjoyable than just a simple foot massage.


The man’s aversion for feet, and his pitiful struggling against her almost idle efforts to draw him closer to her unwashed sole continued to build the warmth spreading out from her crotch. Even as small as he was, she could hear his pleading, she could see his face streaked with tears, and through the string, she could feel his every shudder, and pull of resistance, and every squeaking bleat, every miniscule droplet, and every barely perceptible tug on the string was more enjoyable than the last.


As she dragged him closer and closer, he started to disappear behind her toes. With a stumble, his feet were no longer visible, one more gentle tug of her fingers and his shins fell behind her sky blue polish. She bit her lip as his crotch started to fall under her toes, giving a clear indication of how close he was being pulled in.


"I don't know why you're not fighting harder." She mocked, tugging him closer and causing his hips to sink below her toes. "You were so mean to me when I asked you for a foot rub last night." She wiggled her toes, satisfied that even that playful action tugged on the string pulling him incrementally closer. "What was it you said to me? 'Get those nasty things away from me'? Is that right?"


She pulled her left foot, not currently threaded with a shrunken man's leash up to her face.


"Are they really nasty?" She rolled the ankle around to show the sole. "I take really good care of them! I wash and exfoliate every day, coconut oil in my socks every night. I even get regular pedicures, even though I don't think the lady at the salon likes me."


She pulled her ankle in close, and took a long whiff from her sole, recoiled in feigned disgust, although her feet had been in socks and sneakers while doing cardio all day, and she hadn't had an opportunity to wash, so her feet did smell.


"Although maybe you're right. Whew!" She exclaimed. "Maybe once you've done your job we can take a shower."


She put her foot back down and tugged on the string with just a bit more force, pitching the tiny man forward and causing him to disappear entirely behind her right foot, although she still couldn't feel him against her sole.


The sight of the tanned, buff man lurching and falling flat was too much to contain her glee as she laughed out loud and kicked both her feet excitedly. Even the restrained motions of her legs sent the man bouncing and bobbing at the end of the string.


"Oh, shit. Sorry." She said, returning her heels to the floor, but still laughing. "I keep forgetting how pathetic you are. Here why don't we reset a few inches, just to be fair?"


She let slack out of the string, to her only a finger's length, but it was enough to give the impression of freedom to the diminutive man. When he felt the release in tension against the string, instinct took over and he began a dead sprint away from her foot.


She couldn't be sure, but it looked like he was trying to make a break for under his own bed. It was almost too much to bear, he couldn’t know that he had only a few centimeters of slack, that even if he was somehow freed from the string binding him, she could easily catch him, or if he somehow made it under the bed, how easily she could reach under and retrieve him. The whole scene was worth the body shaking laugh, even as the string began to spool out between her toes.


“Okay, that’s far enough.” She stated flatly, pinching the string between her thumb and forefinger.


The string almost immediately pulled taut, and because the man had been running at full jot, the sudden resistance caught him by the collar around his neck, the bulk of his mass continued forward, while his neck and head were suddenly impeded, resulting in a choking stop, a painful fall to the ground, and a coughing fit as he bounced a bit back on the string.


Although she was laughing, she had to be impressed when he managed to recover relatively quickly. Still coughing, rubbing his neck under the collar, he stood after only a moment of recovery spent on the carpeted floor.


“Nice job, now, where were we?” She asked, already pulling the string.


Whatever composure the man had previously was gone, he no longer attempted to undo the collar, instead pulling desperately, and equally ineffectually, against the string, His pleas had also become less intelligible, degrading into grunts and screams of protest with every tug she made.


“This is your own fault, you know?” She offered through her giggles. “You could’ve just given me the foot rub. I know plenty of guys who would love to offer that kind of service, especially after getting fucked like that. But you had to call my feet ‘nasty’...”


She wasn’t being nearly as reserved with the string this time around, steadily pulling him closer and closer, with no real pause to savor his struggles. In short order he was back to being obscured by her foot, in fact, only his head was visible above her toes. With one more gentle tug, she felt the first contact with her soles. On the ball of her foot, she felt two points of pressure, and realized he had taken his last ditch effort and was pushing against her foot with his hands.


She spread her toes a bit, not much, just enough to catch a glimpse of the man, almost completely pulled against her foot, frantically pushing against her soft, sweaty sole with all his might. She made sure to pause long enough, what felt like minutes, for the man’s deep and overiding panic to subside a bit. When it finally did, his fervent attempt to push himself away from her foot finally relaxed, and their eyes met. From where he stood, on his toes, his neck being pulled up toward the crevice between her big toe and long toe, and from where she sat, looking down on the distraught face staring back up at her from between her toes.


She made sure he could see her other hand move toward the string. He began shaking his head, slowly at first, but with more feverish panic as her left hand took hold of the string midway between where her right held it and he was secured. She savored his sudden recognition, and his panicked cries, although he couldn’t tell if they were pleas to stop, or if they were just denials of reality at this point, but it didn’t matter to her.


“Hey.” She said, pausing once she had taken hold of the string with both hands. “I just thought of something.” From between her toes, she could see his eyes wide, still fixated on her hands gripping the string between her fingers. “I was planning on just squishing you before leaving, but this is really fun.”


The threat of being ‘squished’ brought the man out of his fixation and his eyes caught hers again.


“So I was thinking. What if I didn’t squish you?” She pondered.


He began nodding furiously in acquiescence. 


“What if, when we wer done here…” She leaned in, deftly keeping the string still as she did. “When we’re done here, what if I threw you in my gym socks, stuffed those socked into my sneakers, slipped those sneakers into my backpack and took you back to my place for even more fun? Heck, I think I’ve got a pair of boots you’d feel great in.”

His face froze in horror, and her grin widened.


That was all she needed to see. With one swift motion, she pulled the string toward her, closing the miniscule distance between the tiny man and her toes. As she felt him impact against her sole, she scrunched her toes down, over his head and sealing him into her toes’ grip. Her leg raised up just a bit, allowing his body, briefly stuck to her sole with sweat, to fall under her foot as she quickly, if gently, pressed her sole to the carpeted floor.


In less than a second, light, air, and any freedom of movement had been taken away from him, and in their place she forced upon him a sweaty, stinking, oppressive weight that smothered him into his carpet, allowing for nothing. He couldn’t attempt to push her away, her foot was too massive, too strong, and covered him entirely. He couldn’t writhe out from under it, as it smothered him like a waterbed filled with hot mercury. He couldn’t even scream as her toes, clenched around his head, keeping his face deep into the lint and sweat filled cavity between them, didn’t release him. What little breath he could manage, shallow and brief, filled with stink, stinging sweat, and grime.


With her victim completely underfoot, his tiny body being pressed up into her sole, she released the string. Her hands found other ways to keep themselves occupied, however, as her right drifted down to her every more wet vagina, and her left clutched at her breasts.


As one set of her fingers began to run over her lips, and another began to tease her nipples she didn’t even care if he could hear her tell him.

 

“But we’ve got plenty of time to decide what to do with you." She said, slipping a pair of fingers into herself, squeezing the toy caught between her toes a bit harder, and pressing him into the carpet just a bit more. "Let’s take our time and really enjoy it.”

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