“The formula used to solve a quadratic equation is called theeeee…”

Ms. Curie trailed off, her slightly graying hair shimmering as she turned and gestured her ActivBoard pen in the general direction of a listless class, leaning forward expectantly.

“Theeeeee…” she repeated, waving her hands wildly. Finally with a sigh, she gave up. “The quadratic formula, correct.” She huffed and returned to the board as she completed the problem.

Among this group of near-but-not-quite college kids, only one had an expression unrelated to boredom, longing, or fatigue: discomfort.

Rebecca – Becky, to her friends – was a relatively average-looking high school senior with long black hair, glasses, and distinctive oriental features. She said little and tended to keep mostly to herself and her desk situated at the rough center of the classroom. And she was currently aggressively dragging one foot across her pant-leg beneath her seat, switching legs with varying frequency. Something felt… off. Weird. Uncomfortable. It was a slight feeling in her foot, one that had been present for the past few days now, but typically Becky thought it best to take two Advil and just power through it. But now…

Becky’s skin itched and crawled. There was an aching, one that had ghosts tugging at her knees, slowly reaching down her shins, their epicenter at the very soles of her feet, buried deep within her shoes.

Becky shifted and turned, wrapping herself in her own arms as she tried to distract from whatever this uncomfortable feeling was, feeling her breath quickening.

“Hey, Becky,” Cameryn turned left to face her friend, raising an eyebrow. “What gives? Why’re you spazzing out?”

Cameryn was Rebecca’s best friend and partner in crime. The two confided in one another in everything. The pair were ride-or-dies, so much as two introverted young adults could possibly be, and they tried their best to sit next to one another in every class they shared, which was a whopping three out of eight. As a result, Cameryn tended to know about Rebecca’s business. But currently, as Becky rapped her fingers silently across the edge of the desk in a futile effort to distract herself from whatever this growing feeling of pressure was, Cameryn realized this was something completely new.

“Are you...” Cameryn began before shrinking away as Becky’s demeanor changed.

Becky, silent, demure Becky, began to feel an immense pleasure.

A sensual warmth spreading through her, one that seemed to emanate from her body’s core and spread everywhere. It wasn’t precisely orgasmic, per se, but it was a precursor to what would happen next, as the pressure exploded into a climax, mingling every sensation a human woman could feel as…

RRRRRRIIIIIIPPPPPP!!!

The searing tearing of fabric was the nail in the coffin for the class’s attention, a class that had aforetime respectfully tried to avoid looking at the suffering girl if they could, or listen to her constrained grunts. But now, as a silence fell over them, they could avoid her no longer, for miraculously – nay, inexplicably – when they turned to Becky... there, beneath the desk and clear as anyone could see, her feet were bare. Burst our from her Converse sneakers, her ankles were wreathed in a belt created by the tied laces, but the soles of the shoes were in tatters on the floor, the rest hanging in strips. Becky’s feet had grown several sizes, now flexing and opening bare on the cold and dusty floor as Becky slowly came to from the wave of odd pressure and pleasure to see everyone in the room staring at her.

“Um… um…”

“What is… what is this--” Ms. Curie pushed through the grid of desks straight for Becky’s station, stopping in her tracks as she crouched, letting the slight fragrance of Becky’s now bare feet waft into the greater air. “W-what is this?!”

Becky, red as a beet, could not answer. She did not know, not where the pressure on her feet came from, nor why they had grown.

“Not going to say anything, are you? I expected more from you, Becky.”

“B-b-but, Ms. Curie --”

“Save it!” Ms. Curie barked. “I have no tolerance for those who disrupt my lectures. If you want to save your grade in this class, I will need you to stand up.”

The class began to murmur in a restrained manner, watching as Ms. Curie, tall and stately, awaited her command to be fulfilled from the stock-still girl, who simply looked every which way to her peers, hoping at least one of them might come to her aid.

“I am waiting, Rebecca,” Ms. Curie used Becky’s real name, a sign that if she became any angrier, this might result in disciplinary action.

With precious, jittering movements, Becky planted her feet on the floor, pushing with both them and her hands to unslide her chair from beneath the desk. With a wet smack, smack, each, she ascended, standing on her platform feet. She cracked her toe knuckles briefly as the entire class had the opportunity to stare at Becky, now elevated by a solid two inches from the growth of her lower extremities.

“Come with me to the front of the room, Rebecca,” Ms. Curie said, grabbing Becky’s arm lightly and leading her to a desk at the head of the class. A hold-over from Ms. Curie’s elementary school days, this desk was considered the punishment seat, for students unable to focus while intermingling with the rest of the students. Ms. Curie gestured to it, and Becky silently, wordlessly took her seat, unsure precisely what she did to deserve this brutal flogging.

“Ah, ah, ah, not like that.” Ms. Curie said. “Show the class exactly what it was that disrupted our learning time.”

“W-wha--”

“Your feet, Rebecca,” said Ms. Curie. “Display them for us, or I insert a zero on today’s participation grade in class.”

Becky gulped, glancing down. Her feet were fully visible here. Why would Ms. Curie want her to show them to the class? But, unwilling to argue, Rebecca scooted her chair out from the desk to make space, then picked up her legs and planted her heels on the desk, to a mysterious murmur from the rest of the room.

Her body was hot, sweating, nervous from this humiliation, and as a result slight pools of sweat were leaking from everywhere on Becky’s skin, not least of which from the pads of her foot, their cool air creating crystalline pools that coalesced on the smooth surface of the desk as Ms. Curie smiled.

Their miasma was already spreading to the outer reaches of the class, a subtly pungent scent that enticed all who inhaled the mist to push out from their desks, and slowly walk closer to Becky and her displayed feet in a confused stupor. Becky herself could barely even stand to show her face, covering it with her hands as her own skin turned a bright red, glistening with nervous sweats as she submitted herself to this mortifying destiny until…

Slurrrrrp…

Becky opened one eye. This eye, peering between the slits of her fingers, caught it. A student, one of the boys. He had done it, there was no mistake. There, at her feet, his head was bowed down, mouth open, tongue out. He had dragged his tongue from the arch to the ball of Becky’s foot, stopping just short of the toes.

“Wha… what the…?! Wh… Why… Why did you…?!” Becky’s stammering had reached peak unintelligibility as she looked to the rest of the class. Surely, surely, someone would realize there was something off about this, right? About this indignity she was being forced to suffer?! She had, by some metrics, just gotten molested! And yet it almost seemed as though nobody cared, about Becky or her suffering!

“Mmmmmmm…!” Becky’s lip trembled as the embarrassment flooded her. In one last, hopeless attempt, she looked toward Cameryn… Cameryn, her best friend, her sole confidant. Surely once she laid eyes on Cameryn, Cameryn would reckon Becky’s helplessness and do something… anything to defend her…

But nothing.

Cameryn was… Cameryn was gone. Nowhere to be seen even in the room.

Becky was alone.

As the tears flooded her eyes, Becky burst from her seat, ignoring the cries of her teacher and any of the students, and she began to run away, through the crowd, out the classroom, down the empty halls, her footsteps leaving shiny puddles and echoing slapped reverberations with each stride.

It was a struggle to navigate with misty eyes, but after an indeterminate amount of time Becky did manage to find the upstairs girls’ bathroom. Locking herself in a stall, Becky forced herself to control her breathing, settling on a hoarse exhale that – with proper control – could be reduced to near-silence if she tried really hard. These skills in her arsenal, Becky simply had to hike her feet up onto the toilet seat (using strips of bath tissue as a buffer) and she would by all accounts be completely invisible.

Becky waited. Mathematics came and went, followed by a small crowd of girls entering and exiting the bathroom without a second thought. Lunch happened. Becky was hungry. Then in its wake, what would’ve been gym, English, and finally social studies.

An entire day of school went by, and Becky could do nothing but run those moments through her head again and again and again until they achieved a dream-like sense of impermanence. And not the good kind of dream.

The afternoon waned; soon, Becky realized, she would either have to show herself, or risk being locked into the school overnight. It wasn’t until she wrapped her own feet in bath tissue to touch the mucky floor of the women’s bathroom that she even felt brave enough to venture out. Placing one hand on the latch, Becky pushed it aside – click – until…

Becky gasped.

She wasn’t alone after all.

“C-Cameryn.”

The slightly-shorter classmate had been standing directly in front of Becky’s own stall, and she greeted Becky with a smile. “I’m so glad it was you in there and not some other lamer hiding in the bathroom.”

Becky could not help but break out into a grin, embracing her friend in a warm hug, and for a moment, all was right in the world.

Cameryn rubbed Becky’s back, something she knew always made her feel better when her emotions got the best of her. And Cameryn said, “Now, how about you come with me to grab you some new shoes? Would you like that?”

Becky let out one final, raspy, sniifffffffff… and she nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

***

Without access to a clock or otherwise exterior methods to keep time, it felt like the day had passed far more slowly than it truly did. Cameryn made sure to trot ahead at any forks in the hallways, checking their corners so her friend would be able to walk without fear of gawking from members of the school’s meager afternoon extracurricular clubs. After a quick stop to the cafeteria, the pair also located a collection of plastic grocery bags that were imperfect but would have to do. Cameryn was kneeling, binding together Becky’s tattered shoes and the feet within them as Becky waited, habit and nervousness forcing her to swing her unoccupied leg, nearly smacking Cameryn in the face as she did so. The material was cold and uncomfortable, but once Cameryn was finished with her work, Becky stood up, taking a few tentative steps on the linoleum.

“These… these will work,” Becky said.

Cameryn clapped, smiling. “Wonderful!” Grabbing her friend’s arm, Cameryn dragged her outside, the two needing only to make it to Cameryn’s vehicle before they were home free. For the moment.

The drive to the local PayLess Shoe Store was deceptively long. Plastic crinkled as Becky squirmed in her seat-belt, the restraints feeling less robust than they once used to. She stretched her legs out, easily covering much of the weather mat with the bottoms of her bound pads. Accepting that she would have to deal with this discomfort, Becky simply turned to the window, laying her forehead on the cold glass.

Her cheeks still burned with the embers of that unforgettable experience. It was something she would never want to suffer through again. The worst day of her life. Everyone was… staring at her. And her feet. How it happened, Becky didn’t even know… Maybe it was a late puberty thing, a sudden growth spurt. It seemed unlikely, but such things were known to happen at times? An individual’s body suddenly experiencing a massive growth in a short time? Well, even if so… why her feet in particular? And worse… why did Ms. Curie… that awful Ms. Curie… why did she have to publicly lambaste Becky like that? Put her insecurities quite literally on display for everyone to see? One student even had his phone out, taking video! Who does that?! Of feet? And the lick… it’s not even that it felt bad… necessarily… but… but –

“Hey.”

Cameryn’s simple salutation brought a hatchet to the silence’s rotted overgrowth. Becky had forgotten what warmth even felt like until she unstuck her temple from the car window with a slight sticking sound. She rubbed her head and said, “Yeah?”

“I’m… sorry you had to go through that.”

“It’s… it’s fine,” Becky lied. “I just want to know… wh… where did you go?”

Cameryn’s gaze narrowed. She wanted to look downwards, look elsewhere, hide her visage, but was unable to do so without taking her attention off the road. “I needed to take care of something. I should’ve been there… I really should’ve been there. But I hope you understand.”

Becky accepted Cameryn’s words in silence.

“Why did your feet grow? I don’t think I’ve even heard of that before. Do you know what happened to you?” Cameryn countered, turning into the plaza.

“No!” Becky yelled a tad too harshly. Cameryn grimaced, and Becky looked apologetically at her. “No…” she said, more mildly this time. “I have no idea. I mean… the weirdest thing about it was that the growth, it was… weird. It felt weird, and… uncomfortable. But at a certain point, it felt… right. Sort of good. You know how that can be possible? For something to feel both bad and good?”

Cameryn pursed her lips, and said with an enigmatic stare, “I think I do…” as the pair pulled into the PayLess parking lot.

The business of shoe shopping was an immediate salve for Becky’s frayed nerves. At once she took to the trying on of different shoes and shoe types with gusto. Flats, heels, sneakers and tennis shoes, Nike's, Calvin Klein's, Ralph Lauren's… it was a brilliant flurry that consisted mostly of opening up various shoe boxes and trying to stuff her toes inside before realizing the vast majority of women’s footwear on the premises no longer fit her. It was taking so long that, without a real reason to unwrap her bindings, the collected sweat was already beginning to overflow from the airtight compartments, pooling around her ankles and leaking out, leaving salty drip, drip, drips in every aisle that Becky walked to.

So it resulted in Becky simply sitting at one of the stools, browsing Twitter. Oddly enough, the hashtag #footgoddess was trending on the main page, a peculiar instance that Becky wanted to look more into. However, she lacked sufficient time to do so when Cameryn came racing through the shelves, screaming out, “Beeeeckyyyyy!!! I found one!”

“Hmm?” Did she? This was wonderful news to Becky as well. Twitter all but forgotten, she looked up to her friend to find her holding a rather expansive box labeled with the familiar Converse logo.

“They’re not ideal, but they should fit.”

Becky grabbed the box, a grin finally crossing her face. She pulled the shoes out of the box, pulling the balled up filler paper out of the footwear. Unwrapping her foot bindings, she finally finally had been allowed a chance for her soaked and moistened feet to breathe.

“Ahhhhhhh…!” Becky sighed out rapturously, flexing and rubbing her slicked toes against one another, rubbing them on the carpet to get rid of loose sweat, leaving dark damp foot-shaped imprints.

Cameryn shifted in place, biting her lip, watching the display. Already, Becky’s unbound feet were allowing her peculiar scent to waft and disseminate through the airspace. She bounced her leg, scratched her neck, and said, “You know what? Let me,” before snatching the sneaker from Becky’s somewhat surprised grasp.

Kneeling down again, Cameryn grasped Becky’s toes. They jumped a bit at her touch but soon settled down. She directed the toes into the hole of the shoe before letting go, now bringing her manicured hand to Becky’s heel, stuffing it into the back of the shoe. It was a tight fit, and Cameryn’s hands came back a lot slicker than they were before, but Becky was now wearing a brand new, well-fitting shoe!

“Oh-em-geeeee!!!” Becky squealed. “The other one, do the other one!”

Cameryn smiled slyly, grabbing the other shoe. Like the Sleeping Beauty prince, she applied just as much care and delicacy to the equipping of this shoe onto her friend’s foot, if not more so, until both bare feet were thoroughly encased in their footwear. She tied them too, for good measure.

“Maybe I should also get some new socks…” Becky said with a bit of unease, staring down at the shoes. “I mean, I bet my feet would probably stink real bad if I don’t.”

Cameryn glanced at her moist hands, rubbing them together like hand sanitizer before dragging the both of them down her face in Becky’s distraction. Feeling their lovely aroma, Cameryn replied, “I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”

“You think so?” Becky replied obliviously. “Well… alright then.”

Hopping off the bench, Becky scooped up the remains of her former foot bindings and went to find a register, accompanied by the dumbly smiling Cameryn.

“Hi, did you find everything to your liking?” the cashier asked the pair as they placed the empty box on the counter for scanning. “Oh--” she opened the box, finding it barren of any actual footwear. Glancing over the counter, she then said, “I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to take those off for just a moment for the transaction to go through.”

“Ugh…” Becky groaned, looking around for a dustbin to toss the tattered shoe remains into. Finding one next to the counter, she then bent down, pulling off the shoes and tossing them onto the table.

The cashier, punching in numbers, suddenly stopped. She took a glance at the shoes, reaching one finger deep into their depths, pressing down on the insole. She looked up at Becky’s bored face, then looked back at the shoes.

“You know what?” the cashier said. “Go ahead and keep them. They’re on the house. Consider it a promotional gift for being such good customers.”

Becky’s face lit up at this news. “Oh… oh my gosh, thank you thank you thank you!!!” Clapping her hands, she grabbed the shoes and raced to put them back on. “I don’t think I’ve ever even been to this store, but thanks! C’mon!” Becky was the one who now grabbed Cameryn’s arm, and the two of them trotted out of the PayLess with excited urgency.

The cashier watched them go and did a little wave as they left. Her finger still had the scant traces of sweat she discovered tracing the surface of the converse. Sticking her tongue out, she planted it on her taste buds, shivering slightly. That scent, that taste… it was still here. But where?

Slowly, carefully… the cashier’s eyes landed on the garbage can.

Mostly barren, luckily; it had just been cleaned out earlier that afternoon. But there, at their depths, was a collection of plastic and fabric so potent, so melodiously scented…

The cashier looked left and right. The store was peculiarly empty. The perfect opportunity.

She dug into the bottom of the can, scooping its contents, the moist plastic, saturated fabric, worn laces… and she planted her face in them, taking a deeeeeeeep swig of their olfactory gifts.

She pulled the sweaty, clothy mass away from her face, tendrils of the stuff dripping down her cheeks, into her awaiting mouth as she sighed in bliss. This would last her. This treasure of deliciousness. It would last her for the time being, she thought. She hoped. It had to.

***

As Becky crossed the threshold of the school building, she felt dozens of pairs of eyes boring into her. It seemed that even those outside of her math class had heard of the bizarre incident that had occurred. Talk stopped, banter paused, studying ceased.

Becky clutched her books, looking down sheepishly; her new shoes were secure on her feet, bare on the inside in such a way that resulted in them being hot and feeling a bit muggy and rubbery moist. Though, Becky was never the sort to mind such things.

“Don’t pay any attention to them,” Cameryn patted Becky on the back. “They’ll come around. Soon enough.”

Becky turned to Cameryn and nodded, filled with renewed confidence, as she navigated to the mathematics classroom.

Ms. Curie stood at the doorway, perking up as though she were specifically waiting for Becky. She pushed her glasses up her nose, staring slightly down at Becky with satisfaction. “We missed you yesterday. Where did you go?”

Becky stammered. “I… I-I--”

Cameryn spoke up. “Becky had to handle some business. It was urgent. Important.”

Ms. Curie scoffed. “Right. Well, it’s against school policy to leave during class without a pass of any kind. If you or your feet exit my sight today without my permission…” Ms. Curie reduced her tone to a low growl, offering a panther’s smile as she sized up Becky with lustful eyes. “There will be Hell to pay.”

Becky, petrified by the… oddly sultry threat… clammed up, nodded, and then pushed past Ms. Curie, finding her way to her desk before her growing urge to flee took over.

As Becky reached down to extricate her books from her bag, a terrifying feeling possessed her.

It was happening again.

There, beneath the desk, that feeling had struck.

The feeling of discomfort. The portent to her doom.

She knew she shouldn’t have skipped the Advil.

Becky began to hyperventilate, nervousness causing every pore on her body to leak, and making her already moist feet on the interior of these new shoes sweat even more. Thankful they remained safely sequestered within the footwear, Becky attempted to breathe. Maybe, Becky thought, it’s mental. As long as I stay strong, keep cool, don’t move around too much… maybe nothing will happen! Becky nodded – this seemed as reasonable a plan as any. Planting her trembling feet on the ground, Becky adopted a lady-like stance, both hands on the table, and stared straight ahead.

Straight ahead was the ActivBoard, currently displaying what Becky presumed were the answers to last night’s homework. That she didn’t do.

Becky wanted to groan, but she feared any outward expression of emotion would trigger the growth. So far, doing nothing seemed to be working. She didn’t want to look down for fear of jinxing anything, but thus far she had managed to keep the uncomfortable stretchy shifty bone-expansion feeling to a slight nub at the side of her mind.

“Rebecca!”

“Eeek!”

Becky jumped as her name was called. Ms. Curie was aiming her Activ pen directly at her. “Can you answer number 14 for us?”

“F...fourteen?” As Becky stared at the board, she was greeted by a harsh jumble of numbers, letters, and operation marks that she didn’t quite understand. “I… I…”

“Well? The whole class is waiting?”

Becky’s twitching reached its peak. The sweat was coming so hard and so fast, she’d be surprised if the insoles weren’t soaked by now. Her hands rapped the desk as she thought, her shoes twitched and fidgeted, until, a stray fidget tapped at her math textbook through an open seam in her bag.

For some reason, Becky perked up and said, “The answer is x = 5/7.”

Ms. Curie raised an eyebrow. “Why… yes. That’s correct. Very… very good.” And she smiled.

Oh thank God, Becky slumped back in her desk, taking a much needed breather. “I… hm…” That was pretty weird. She hadn’t had any idea what it’d been earlier. A lucky guess, maybe? That was… possible, but extremely, extremely unlikely considering it wasn’t a multiple choice question. What could possibly be the…

Another pang. Far sharper this time, it shot from her foot up into her legs, an intonation of what was to come. The intersection of pain and pleasure; she was feeling her feet begin to push out on the interior of these new shoes. “Oh… Oh geez…”

Cameryn looked to her side at her friend, concerned as she exhibited identical symptoms to the previous day. She reached across, planting a hand on Becky’s shoulder.

“Wah!” Becky jumped at the unwarranted touch. Cameryn simply stared at her, in addition to much of the rest of the class that had noticed the outburst.

Cameryn tried to ignore them, and mouthed to Becky: Do you need to go? She pointed in the direction of the door.

Becky nodded, Mm hmm. Shifting her eyes side to side, Becky’s chair screeched as she pushed out from underneath it, tiptoeing incredibly conspicuously to the door, each step on the floor a pain.

“And where do you think you’re going, Miss? Cutting class again?”

Ms. Curie smacked her ruler on her table, immediately gaining the attention of all as Becky was halfway between her own desk and the door.

Ms. Curie continued, pulling down her glasses to look Becky in the eye. “Remember what I said. If you leave this classroom, there will be immeasurable consequences. To your grade… your record... In fact…”

Ms. Curie’s eyes slowly drifted sideways. When they landed on the punishment seat, Becky’s heart dropped.

Ms. Curie continued, a giddy smile on her face. She clasped her hands and said, “Perhaps you would be more comfortable here at the front with me!”

Becky looked from Ms. Curie to the class, to the door, then to Cameryn. Cameryn was nodding her head, slowly… yes.

Becky gulped. She trusted Cameryn. So she took a deep breath… followed by a seat at the punishment chair.

“Very good girl,” Ms. Curie said, rising from her own seat and sauntering in front of Becky, flattening down her skirt. “Not going to display them for us today?”

“I… I…” Becky wanted to speak, but she couldn’t. The pain… the pleasure… their intersection was already tearing apart Becky’s insides and threatened to make her burst open until…

Becky squealed.

And another terrible rrrrrripppp tore through the classroom.

Gasps were rampant.

The entire class saw, and Becky’s face had turned tomato red, as there beneath the desk, her feet had expanded yet again.

Whereas prior they were closer to size fifteens, now they were edging upon size twenties, utterly massive feet that belonged on a basketball player instead of a high school girl.

As the enraptured class stared down at Becky, Ms. Curie clicked her tongue as she paced back and forth before her student, never taking her eyes off Becky’s feet. “Tsk, tsk, tsk. You just cannot stop yourself from disrupting this learning environment can you?”

Becky stammered. “It’s… it’s not… it’s, I… I-I--”

“Silence.” Ms. Curie slapped her ruler on Becky’s desk, shocking her mouth shut.

“Anyway… for someone as keen for attention as you appear to be… allow us to grant what seems to be your wish.”

At last, Ms. Curie turned away from Becky and announced, “Class! I will require your help in administering Rebecca’s punishment. I need each and every one of you… to come up and worship your classmate’s feet for exactly 60 seconds. No more, no less.”

What?

Becky heard what Ms. Curie said, yet her brain still hadn’t finished processing it. It was so unfathomable, so out there, so bizarre… of course, Becky was no stranger to bizarre these days – the cold linoleum that brushed against the moist soles of her feet proved it. But this?

Ms. Curie turned back to Becky, jerking her forehead up in a gesture Becky only assumed was a command. Tentatively, Becky lifted her legs up, scooching out from the chair and resting her heels on the desktop side by side once again.

“Ooooooohhhh…!” here in this mirror image of her position yesterday, it was easier to see than ever: her feet had practically ballooned to the size of dinner plates. Nobody was more surprised by – or impressed with – these measurements than her classmates, who had to murmur reverently in unison to get this across.

“I will demonstrate. Follow me, and do exactly as I do,” Ms Curie said with a smirk, removing the cloth scraps of her former shoes and tossing them to the audience, which lunged for them as though it were a drumstick at a concert.

Becky tried to speak, “No, n-no, w-what are you… what are you –”

But Ms. Curie ignored her confused pleas. She turned to Becky, squatted… and worshiped.

Ms. Curie grabbed Becky’s left foot, carefully gripping its slicked moist surface before slowly dragging her tongue along its length, from the bottom to the top, digging into the crevices within her toes. She repeated this, over and over, each exchange landing more of Becky’s foot sweat that didn’t go into Ms. Curie’s mouth onto her face. Becky watched on, feeling utterly unreal as she realized that Ms. Curie was not kidding. She truly wanted nothing more than to give herself completely and utterly to Becky’s feet. Even now, somehow, as her toes were taken within Ms. Curie’s mouth, a connection was formed, wherein Becky could simply feel every neural firing that occurred inside the mind of her once-teacher. And now, every cell within Ms. Curie’s brain demanded that she serve this girl’s feet.

The minute hand ticked loudly. Ms. Curie swore, demanding to get a few last licks in, her drooling tongue managing to mostly excise the surface of Becky’s sole of all the sweat, creating a somewhat damp but relatively smooth, dry, clean surface for the next students in line to experiment with.

“Like so,” she said, once again gesturing to the class.

They broke out into barely-intelligible cheers, murmurs, grins, hums, and exclamations of all sorts as the class was only barely corralled into matching lines, girls on her left foot, boys on her right.

Then it began.

Each soul that went into contact with Becky’s sweating sole was melded briefly with Becky, the ultra-sensative sensations she managed to feel through her toes offering Becky an inner view of the minds of every boy-girl pair that submitted themselves to her and her feet. They were obsessed, unable to contain their lust, each one refusing to even breathe for fear they’d miss out on crucial foot worshiping time in the course of their minute. Their thoughts were jumbled, but based around a central theme:

Yes...

More, I need more of her feet…!

These feet are everything to me!

Oh, what wonderful soles!

Is there any way to make them bigger?!

Their styles were unique as well. Some – mainly the women – were noticeably timid to start, apprehensive of offering their saliva to the superior being to house these feet, and only becoming more aggressive as their allotted minute began to fizzle out. The boys tended to be far more intense off the bat, jamming as many of Becky’s massive toes into their mouths as they possible could, nuzzling their noses and cheeks into Becky’s perspiration repositories. All the while, the utter shock and awe of Becky was only matched by the intense pleasure that each new student managed to give her.

As the lines of students began to be exhausted, the final boy noticed that he would have both feet to himself, as the class appeared not to have an even number of males and females. He was one of the taller seniors, and as his turn in line came up was greeted with Becky’s feet, all for him to take.

“Aw, what?!”

“No fair, how come he gets to worship both of her delectable sets of tootsies?!”

“Now, now, children, fair is fair for making him wait. Allow Asher his turn.”

Becky offered a shy smile to Asher as Asher practically shook in the presence of such wondrous feet, before he applied a shaky hand to the fly of his pants, allowing his massively erect cock to spring out, happy to be free.

“Oh…” Becky gulped, heart pounding at this sudden development. She looked over Asher’s shoulder, expecting to see any sign from the teacher or even a student over this indecency! But all she was met with were faces, eager to watch the show, jealous at the chance they got to miss out on.

Asher, finally courageous enough to venture forth, wasted no time jamming his cock in between Becky’s slick soles, soles that immediately adapted to the situation and adopted a firm but gentle grip around his massive pole. Becky’s breathing slowed, her confidence restored. She found a rhythm, an easy enough thing to do when she could sense the inner machination’s of Asher’s mind through her feet, and she helped him pump and pump, the feet getting slicker and slicker with their mixture of sweat and precum by the second. The second hand was ticking, and somehow Becky knew she did not want to leave Asher blueballed. Her pressure and speed increased with careful precision, as did the rapidness of Asher’s own pumping until finally…

He came.

The first spurts hit Becky in the mouth. The remainder landed first on her stomach, then her feet proper, as the blast let up in power. Asher took aim, ensuring the vast majority of his near-liter of silky cream output did land between her toes and upon her soles, while Becky felt yet something else possess her.

She grew again.

“Ohhh!!!” With orgasmic pleasure coursing through her, the combination of Asher’s semen and the power of her sweat caused not just her feet to increase in size, but her entire body. The chair creaked as Becky’s 5’9” frame expanded to a 6’3”, and her feet became utterly gigantic, edging just slightly beneath the record for largest foot size ever recorded.

Becky barely even noticed this, still basking with half-lidded eyes in the afterglow of her transformation, even as the entire class was silent. Only her breaths made noise.

Ms. Curie stared, for once agape in shock, before she brought her hands together in a slow clap.

“I think you’ve learned your lesson quite well at this point.”

Ms. Curie’s clap was joined by the entirety of the rest of the class with whoops, whistles, cheers and jeers that shocked Becky from her rest.

With cream-covered soles, a sweat-covered body, and everybody in her orbit lauding her…

Becky could only grin.

This was her life, she realized. This was the only life she’d ever desire. It was perfect.

The only thing missing was…

Becky’s eyes shot open. “Cameryn!”

There, the classroom door was ajar, and when Cameryn heard her name through the slit, she jumped, dashing away.

“No, wait!” Becky pushed out from the chair, getting to her feet. “Whoa!” she called out, nearly slipping as the cum-sweat combo made achieving balance a difficult thing. Once she found her balance, Becky dashed through the group of students disgruntled at the exit of their new goddess.

Becky broke into the empty hallway, some doors opening with more students in search of the heavenly scent Becky’s feet exuded. But she cared not for them; instead, Becky’s eyes were locked on Cameryn’s small form, ducking into an empty stairwell.

“Wait up!” she called, bounding forth with powerful feet until she finally burst through.

The stairwell was empty. Using an old chair to block off the door, Becky took a few tentative steps inside, each one with its own smack, smack, smack. She was finally proud to display these feet for the world to see, but what point would there be if she couldn’t do it with…

“Cameryn.”

There, at the bottom of the stairway, Cameryn was sitting, head down.

Becky took small, careful steps down the stairs, as her feet now exceeded the size of the individual steps. “Cameryn… where… why did you leave?”

Cameryn shook her head, refusing to look at Becky even as she took a seat next to her. “I… wasn’t ready. I just… I couldn’t.”

“You weren’t ready for what?” Becky laid her massive feet forth, heels on the floor, and Cameryn’s gaze shifted.

And finally, she admitted it. With a gulp of breath, Cameryn said, “I wasn’t ready to admit… I’m in love…”

Becky blushed hotly as Cameryn crawled on the floor, grabbing Becky’s right foot, and continued, “With your feet, Becky. I love them! And I love you!”

“Cameryn!” Becky screamed, wanting to stop her friend as she began worshiping at them. But the moment Cameryn interlaced her fingers with Becky’s toes, she realized the depths of her genuineness. The depths of her love. And deep down… deep down in Becky’s heart… she realized that the feeling was mutual.

Cameryn was already pulling her own pants and panties down, no longer willing to restrain herself to mere oral worship, and she began to ride along Becky’s toes, each one of them taking dips inside Cameryn’s inflamed, leaking pussy. Her sexual and mental energy flowed back into Becky, forcing Becky to take on the arousal Cameryn was experiencing, and multiplying it by eleven, before it was then redelivered into Cameryn’s own body. Cameryn was spasming, as though she were being continuously jolted by volts of electricity, and laughing maniacally.

Cameryn’s eyes were wild as she screamed, “Oh, Becky! Fuck me! Fuck me with your big fat feet! Defile me with your sweaty toes! Let me give everything to them!” She ripped her clothes off, her own lithe body now bare except for hair and sweat. Her grunts were guttural, animalistic reverberating through the entire stairwell as she grabbed ahold of Becky’s colossal big toe with both hands, carefully sliding it into her lubricated vaginal walls.

Becky meanwhile felt Cameryn’s spasms course back through her, Cameryn’s own assault practically freezing Becky in place except for the gyrations of her own feet, spurred on by Cameryn to maximize the experience of pleasure. Becky was so confused. Confused in everything; confused in what was happening and why, confused in how, and confused in what would happen after. But one thing Becky was not confused on…

She was going to give Cameryn everything she wanted.

And then some.

Cameryn’s wheezes and pants were the manifestation of her own need. Her need for Becky and her feet flowed back into Becky as Cameryn masturbated, Becky’s ginormous toe providing more than an effective dildo as Cameryn squatted back and forth, back and forth. Becky wanted to say something, anything, in an effort to make sense of all of this, but when she opened her mouth to form logical words, only moans of pain and pleasure exited, all the while their screams getting louder and louder, humps and pumps growing faster and faster, ground beneath them becoming a pool of Becky’s pristine sweat and nectar marinated with Cameryn’s husky mortal ladyjuices, their combined cocktail becoming the sweetest champagne of their combined love as they climaxed, and Becky grew, her body expanding, toe shooting up and jamming into Cameryn’s already occupied cervix and pushing Cameryn across the line even further as she cried out a demented, obsessed, lovely cry in tandem.

Their shriek reflected up the stairwell, back down, and through the entire school. It rang bells, it cracked ceramic, it forced men and women everywhere in the vicinity to crumble to their knees, releasing their own seed and juices from the power of their combined purity.

***

Becky came to.

Her eyes were blurry. She didn’t know how long she’d been asleep. Perhaps only a few minutes, or hours, or even days. The light still seemed like midmorning through the window.

As Becky’s own clothes threatened to rip from her body, she took a glance at where the wet twitching at her manhole-cover-sized feet and the pressure on her stomach was coming from. And her vision finally began to coalesce into understanding.

There slept Cameryn, face on Becky’s own chest, bare legs still slightly jolting as they remained impaled on Becky’s truly dildo-sized big toe, humping her slightly with their muscle memory. Even in slumber, she drooled, offering supplication to the new object of worship.

Becky looked down at her friend-turned-lover, and smiled.

She planted a kiss on Cameryn’s hair. And she said, “I love you, Cam.”

She couldn’t tell for sure, but there, buried in Cameryn’s wreath of undone hair, she swore she could see the inklings of a quarter smile.