The next morning I woke to sounds of her heavy thudding footsteps moving through the house as she prepared for work. I grabbed the only other pair of doll sized shorts I had, put them on and leapt from the bed to do what I could to help. My increased toughness was kind of fun, as the bed was maybe a 40 foot drop relative to my size, and the fall was so inconsequential to me that I could just embrace the joy of flying through the air.
On the ground, I decided to help by choosing a pair of shoes for her today as I did yesterday, knowing it was at least one thing I could actually do. Getting to her closet, I looked at her collection of shoes and remembered that she said she had to “intimidate” some people today, and looked for a match. My first thought was a pair of black combat-style boots, but honestly that didn’t seem like office attire, and while she might find the suggestion funny, it wouldn’t be particularly helpful. The most obvious choice seemed to be a pair of sharp looking pump stilettos, but as I climbed to that shelf, I realized that’d be a waste of my hard work from yesterday. I looked around for something open-toed, and saw the peep-toed shoes I almost chose previously, and was about to grab today until I spotted the perfect pair for today. A pair of black, spike heeled stilettos, with a strap over the widest part of the foot and another slightly thicker strap around the ankle. They were both thick enough that it didn’t feel too out of place for an office, but they would definitely be both a statement piece that showed off her toes, and made her nearly six foot three, which had to be intimidating.
I heard her doing makeup in the bathroom and quickly pushed the shoes to the floor and posed them in the middle of her closet. She called out that breakfast was ready for me, and I rushed to the kitchen, waving good morning as I passed her in the bathroom. I had a surprising amount of eggs, sausage and toast, cleaning my plate when I heard her call from her closet, “Ooooo.. a bold choice for today! I like it, these will definitely help my meeting today. Good choice, my little stylist!”
A minute or so later I heard the clacking of those heels approach, and I could tell she felt powerful just from the force of her stride. She appeared in the door to the kitchen, wearing a well-fit deep purple womens blazer with a lovely white shirt under, large black stone necklace , and some crisp charcoal womens slacks with a flared leg ending just at the ankles, so every step forward flashed her blood red toes in her aggressive black heels. She posed for a moment and spied me on the floor, towering over me even more than usual and asked, “Well, what do you think?”
I did the only rational thing. Dropped to my knees and mock bowed at her repeatedly, saying “We’re not worthy, we’re not worthy!” as I shuffled forwards.
She laughed and told me, “Oh hush now! Hopefully I can make this jackass at work bend to my needs as much as you have! Tell me how it all looks together though, and then I’ve got to go!”
With that, she did a quick twirl in place, showing off her ample figure and ass in the process, but when she stopped her spin and put her foot out to catch it, she stepped directly down on the paper plate she’d left on the floor for me containing ziploc bags with pretzels, carrots and my sandwich in them. I heard and saw the crunch, and as she caught herself and shifted quickly to avoid falling, her foot moved and mashed it further, squishing my tuna sandwich and snapping a good chunk of the pretzels and carrots. I was surprised at how forcefully her foot had slammed down and how easily she had demolished the food, but I was once again thankful I was on my knees, hiding my rapidly inflating penis.
“Um, you look great! Very, uh, very scary!” I said, nervously joking as I looked up at her.
“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry, I was so excited, I can’t believe I did that!” She looked down at her foot on my mangled meal and then glanced at her watch. “Damn it, I don’t have time to make another, is this okay? It’s all in bags at least, no dirt or anything on the food, it’s just a little.. squished. I’m sorry hun, thank you for the compliment, I’ve got to get going!”
She was a little embarrassed but also in a rush, so she bent down, gave me a little goodbye squeeze, and rushed out the door, leaving me to stare at the carnage. I stood, and stared at the remains of my meal, admiring the little details of destruction in front of me. Many of the pretzels had been snapped cleanly, but there were several that had shattered, completely pulverized in to shards of gluten so easily by her body. The carrots were similar, with a few clean breaks, but instead of complete shattering, several of them were in some intermediary stage, their sides split in multiple spots and visibly flatter than before, crushed down but not completely splayed, as if just an ounce more pressure would have splattered them dramatically, orange bits spread in a wide arc. Many of those also bore the curious ridged tread of her shoe, where the ball of her foot had pressed down and imprinted the pattern in a dull etching on the carrot canvas. The star of the show was the sandwich however. One full half of it had been smeared paper-thin by the pressure and movement of her skin, its tuna guts spilling out of the sides and oozing up through the wet tears in the bread itself, compressed so sharply under her weight that the surface of the former sandwich was a perfect copy of the ridged sole that had made a lesser mark on the carrots.
The other half, however, was less damaged, a corner smushed, but the rest relatively undisturbed, with a glaring exception. In the center, almost perfectly placed, both bag and sandwich had a single puncture, undoubtedly from the sharp heel I had chosen for her. I looked into the hole to see the bottom and saw that her heel had pierced so fully through that the white of the paper plate was clearly visible, with only a faint smudge of sandwich left.
Such a casual display of power was terrifying. And as my dick wouldn’t let me forget, deeply and concerning my arousing. “What the fuck was wrong with me,” I thought to myself, “How did I get this way.. and why do I really… want this?”
I couldn’t answer my questions, but I could answer my dick’s demands. I spent half an hour staring at the destruction and jacking off, rubbing myself raw to the evidence of her overwhelming power. The post-nut clarity mostly made me feel like a worthless little insect, which stirred up more feelings that I chose to distract myself from.
Realizing that there really wasn’t much I could do at my size, I decided that maybe I’d be better off cleaning the hard-to-reach areas of the house, so I would at least be able to claim I did something productive today. Besides… masturbate.
I started with the living room, since I figured it would take the least time as I’d already gotten under the couch my first day at the new size. It was very boring and monotonous work, but I was determined to not be worthless to her. As I worked I thought how lucky it was I’d taken a leave of absence from work, but if my condition persisted for another month I’d have more problems. I was still holding onto hope that this was a temporary setback, and I would wake up back to my normal size just as suddenly as I had woken up shrunk. I worried about the future, but ultimately decided there wasn’t much to be done about it right now, and to focus on what I could do and could control in the moment, small as that list might be.
Lost in thought, I’d been working for several hours when my stomach rumbled. As my body told me it was time for lunch, my dick jumped at the memory of what was waiting for me. I made my way to the kitchen, noting how tired I was from my work and how it felt much like I’d been walking through a city all day. I let out a bitter smile as I thought about how much more exercise I was getting these days, and then I spied my meal. I gulped as I approached it, still fascinated with the utter destruction she had wrought upon it in an instant, hardly worth her notice and using only an infinitesimal fraction of her power. Fuck me, why was this so hot?
I savored that meal more than I’d savored any meal in my entire life. Every bite of those splintered pretzels was more delicious knowing she had shattered them, and every chunk of carrot I chewed and swallowed was better because it carried the imprint of her shoe’s sole. I was jealous of the meal she’d prepared for me, and I felt my cock pressing against these dumb little doll shorts for the entire meal. I fantasized about being the objects that had been so delightfully under her foot, wished my body carried the tread marks from her shoe, or had been speared through by her heel, or just compressed flat by her weight, my inside spurting out of my ruptured body. And for the first time in my life, my cock leaked enough precum to visibly stain my shorts, just from tasting the evidence of her destructive power. “I’m so fucked,” I thought to myself, hanging my head in shame that did nothing to lessen my arousal.
I opened the sandwich bag and began eating, focusing on how flat it had gotten, and letting my fantasies infect my tastebuds, every mouthful better than the one before. I finished an entire lunch, which would have satisfied me at my previous size, and sat there ignoring the mystery in favor of satisfying that base arousal once again.
Afterwards, laying on the plate, staring at the ceiling and reliving the morning scene, I suddenly realized I hadn’t used the restroom since I’d shrunk, not even once. It’d been three days at my current size, and I hadn’t needed to piss so much as an ounce, let alone fully evacuate myself. If I didn’t feel so great, I would have been more concerned, but it seemed that my body had changed in ways just beyond my size. I wondered what else I would discover, hoping it would be a fun new ability, and not something deeply terrifying or traumatizing.
I went back to work, consolidating most of the junk in a few small piles on the living room floor, based on what was garbage and what might be something useful. I felt satisfied with my work, and then I heard a door slam outside. Betting it was Katie, I ran to the foyer and waited, away from the door, and to the side a little to avoid being in the way of some tossed heels again, just in case. The door opened and there she was, filling the doorframe with her high-heeled silhouette.
“Oh my goodness, what a day! I got so many compliments on my pedicure and heels, Joe, great job and choice! But these were absolutely killer on my feet, so you’ll really need to work hard on my foot rub tonight!” She looked around and spotted me as she set her bag down on the floor and took off her sweater, smiling down at me. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I noted that somehow daily foot rubs seemed to be a part of the routine now. I didn’t mind, but I was certainly a little worn out from my work today, so I hoped it didn’t affect me too much. She continued, “I’m so beat today though, would you mind undoing the little clasps so I can take these spikes off?”
She turned one foot to the side and drew attention to the little buckle on the top strap, right at eye level for me, and looked down at me, watching patiently. I ran to her foot immediately, only feeling that I might have come off a little over eager once I was actually face to face with her little buckle. I began working on it, my small hands struggling with the strap as I suddenly realized how close I was to the open side of her shoe. I lost focus on the buckle and instead watched the arch of her foot carrying much of her weight, but elegantly curved and exposing just a bit of her sole and the lightly damp surface of her insole, fragrant with her foot sweat. My head swirled as her presence overwhelmed me and then she crushed my train of thought with a simple tap of her shoe.
“You alright down there? I can feel that you stopped working.”
What was only a quick flick up and down of her heel to her felt like a violent spasm of this truck-sized behemoth, and I snapped my hands back from the buckle in shock as the loud clack of her sole hitting the floor again rang in my ears. I glanced up to see her standing over me, looking down with a raised eyebrow and an expression that made me feel incredibly… judged. I knew I was completely at her mercy, and dove forward with my hands yanking at the little buckle as quickly as I could, needing to succeed at my assigned task. I pried the buckle open, and then tapped lightly on her ankle twice, stepping back and moving to her other foot. I felt her move above me and the foot I just freed whooshed into the air and she bent and pulled it from her foot with a soft ‘thwip’ sound as her damp sole peeled from the shoe. As I pulled at the buckle on her other shoe, it suddenly jerked and the ground shook with the impact of her bare foot slamming back down as she planted it to regain her balance.
The force of the impact made me fall forward and face plant into her foot, and two things happened in response. I took a deep breath, inhaling the delicious, perfectly sweaty musk of her foot, but was unable to enjoy it for another moment as I was yanked into the air with her foot, gripping tightly onto the shoe strap. She seemed to notice me clinging to her shoe, as I heard her booming voice echo in my skull, “Oh, are you hitching a ride up here? Let me get this shoe off and you can come outside with me while I have a cigarette.”
She seemed oblivious to how much danger I’d been in as she grabbed me with one hand and wrenched her heel from her foot with the other, tossing it carelessly to the ground. As her hand wrapped around me I felt my erection poke into her palm, and I panicked and began twisting myself to hide it. She noticed my struggling as she stepped out to the porch and asked, “Whoa there wriggly worm, is everything okay? What are you doing? You keep wriggling like that and I might drop you!”
“Uh.. I just.. um I just don’t feel like being picked up right now, can you put me down?”
I got a glimpse of her expression and her glare honestly scared me for a moment. Then it changed, and she pursed her lips in disappointment before saying, “Fine. You can listen to my day from the floor then.”
I felt relief for only a second, and then her hand opened, and she just dropped me to the floor without a hint of concern. I looked up at her, wide-eyed as I fell to the floor and she watched me with a look of smug satisfaction, as if I had earned this treatment. I bounced relatively harmlessly off the ground, although it did knock the wind out of me, and I lay on my back for a moment, looking up at her as she pulled out a cigarette and lit it up. Dazed for just a moment, it didn’t take long for my view to make me think about her stomping me out of existence, and as that fantasy crept in for the umpteenth time, my crotch responded as it seemed programmed to do. I quickly scrambled to my feet to hide it, and then she began talking.
“Well, even if someone is an ungrateful little worm, it can’t ruin the good day I had. I really felt confident today, and it carried into my meeting. I got them to agree to basically everything I wanted, didn’t have to give up anything, and really made everyone see that it was my way or the highway. I was going to give you some credit for getting me started on the right ‘foot’ today, but now I think all the credit is going to stay with me. Maybe you can make it up to me with that foot rub tonight, extra special.”
She looked down at me, one eyebrow raised, and then exhaled a stream of smoke. Terrifyingly hot, I could only nod with my head down, and hands in front of my crotch, hopefully looking contrite, and not like a little pervert hiding an erection.
“You look very cute and apologetic. Good… Sorry again about stepping on your food today, I hope it didn’t ruin it. Maybe I improved it though, I’m sure it was at least a different experience!” She let out a little chuckle, and as I reflected on how right she was, and how I hoped she never discovered how hopeless I was, I was staring at her bare feet in front of me. Such power contained in her toes, I could almost imagine all the bones of her foot working in tandem to perfectly support her, covered in such tough but supple flesh. I marveled like Da Vinci at the engineering of the human foot, appreciation only increased by my new vantage point, when the butt of her cigarette dropped between us, in front of her foot. My mouth dried instantly as I knew what was coming next, and silently thanked her for providing me this new point of view to witness it from.
Her foot lifted up and cast a shadow on the dimly glowing ember of the cigarette, and then she stepped down, letting it disappear beneath the ball of her foot as her heel raised and she twisted, grinding it underfoot. I could hear the paper fibers shred against the concrete surface of the porch, feel it slowly turn from a cigarette to an unidentifiable black smudge. I knew I was staring, but I couldn’t stop, I had to watch her destroy this thing that she had just used up. Time passed so slowly that it felt like her foot was turning slowly just for me to witness it. Then I let out a tiny gasp as she pulled her foot back, quickly mashing the rest of the black smudge in a streak from where she’d dropped it.
Her foot lifted and then came down, heel first, sole up, exposing the blackened remains of that cigarette and then I walked towards her sole, feeling its pull. From above on high her voice came, “Oh, would you mind brushing off the rest of that so I don’t track it into the house?”
I continued forward and, in the shadow of her awesome sole, delicately began brushing away the soot and dirt from her magnificence. I felt lucky in so many ways to be there, and I leaned up and kissed the splotch on her sole, risking everything for that tiny opportunity to worship. I stepped out of her shadow and looked up, making immediate eye contact so intense I felt like I would melt into a puddle for her to dip her toes into. She looked down at me, just a tiny bit dismissive of my efforts, and responded with a curt, “Good. Inside we go now!” And I obeyed, rushing to her shoes and quickly making an effort to right them and begin bringing them back to her closet. I heard her move through the house with her pounding footsteps and then she called out, “Oh, did you clean up a little in the house? How considerate of you, I’m glad you’re not just a tiny little mooch now, and I see you ate every bit of that meal! Not even a crumb left, did you even lick the plate?”
She laughed after that last statement, and as I carried one heel to her closet I blushed, as she was closer to the truth than I wanted her to be. I rushed it to the closet and started with her second one, suddenly racing an imaginary clock, as I realized I might be able to get another secret show like yesterday. Maybe I was turning into a little voyeur but also.. I worked hard, I deserved a little show. Oof. That thought felt dirty, but as I currently had my face pressed into the sweaty insole of her second high heel while I hauled it to the closet, I was too horny to consider the ethics of it all. I put it into the closet and then hid myself, looking out into the room, and waited. My plot was quickly rewarded, as I heard her heavy footfalls move towards the bedroom and then she was in front of her dresser, perfectly framed.
Almost immediately the top came off exposing her simple nude bra, which she promptly removed and tossed onto the bed behind her. Her breasts were large, round and looked exactly as soft as they felt, beautiful pillows to rest a head on. I was a tiny bit surprised to see her just throw a t-shirt on over top of it, no bra to support her for the rest of the day. I assumed it was a comfort thing, and thought vaguely that her breasts were larger than my fiancé’s, which sparked a bit of guilt. It was immediately washed away as she stripped out of her pants, exposing the twin moons of her ass cheeks, separated by a pair of nude granny-style panties. She grabbed a pair of pajama pants, but before putting them on, she appeared to weigh something in her mind, and then pulled those panties down, exposing first her wrinkled brown asshole to me, and then her wonderfully hairy pussy. I loved the natural look, and was entranced by the slightly tawny reddish color of her pubes, looking at her much darker redd hair hanging down from her head as she bent over and extricated her feet from those panties. I forgot her deep red hair was dyed, and absently wondered if I could offer to help with that at some point. In the meantime, I took mental pictures of her beautiful bare legs and ass and filed them in the spank bank for tonight, before she pulled the pajama pants up and left the bedroom, completely commando under the shirt and pants.
That thought, her near nudity, would be incredibly difficult to forget for the rest of the night.
I rushed from my hiding spot and out of the bedroom, this time waiting to make sure I wouldn’t run into her around the corner and have another situation to explain to her. I heard her in the kitchen once more, starting work on dinner, and wondered what I could do for her in the meantime. I decided that since I’d been volun-tasked with another massage tonight, I might as well set up in front of the couch and get some supplies. I don’t think she had any massage oil, but I’m sure there was lotion in the bathroom, so I made my way and began searching. It took a bit of creativity and hard work, but I was able to shimmy open the under-sink cabinet and found not only lotion, but a tube of peppermint scented foot lotion that I ended up grabbing and bringing back to couch, alone with what looked like an old pumice stone file to work on any calluses she had on her feet.
I made it back to the couch, positioned this little surprise in front of where she usually sat, and went to the dining room to wait. Not too long later I heard her call out, “Din-Oh! You’re already here! Great! You didn’t want to climb up my pants again today?” She chuckled after that and set down the plate in front of me, chicken, mashed potatoes and some asparagus.
“Oh, did you want me to step on it again? I’m sure those potatoes could be mashed just a little bit more!” She laughed at this suggestion, and I fought back the urge to blurt out “Yes,yes, please crush it and let me lick it from your feet!” and just laughed along with her. I went to work eating with her, but ran into an issue of the chicken being just a little too tough for me to take satisfying bites. I couldn’t really wield a knife, so I just struggled to tear off what I could for a while before I became aware of her watching me with a bemused look.
“Would you like a liiiiittle bit of help there, little man?”
I nodded yes, and then she went to work, and I watched yet another demonstration of the power disparity between us as her strong hands used her fork and knife to slice off chunks of chicken that would be easier for me to tear my own pieces off of. I watched her saw away at it for a while and then issued a meek, “Thank you,” before I got back to my meal.
“Of course, pet. You just needed a tiny, little, insignificant, minute bit of help. Nothing at all for me!” She laughed again, although this time it felt much more like she was laughing at me instead of with me.
Demonstrating my excellent appetite again, I finished not too far behind her, though she politely waited at the table for me to finish before collecting the dirty plates for the dishwasher. I rushed to the couch and stood next to my equipment, waiting for her to take her seat and put me to work. She entered the living room and stopped, put her hands on her hips and smiled, “Oh look at you! I get to be really pampered tonight, huh? You’re setting a high standard, I don’t know if I can go back to anything less! My feet are kiiiiiilling me after today too, so I hope you’re ready to really get to it!”
I nodded vigorously and gestured to the couch for her to take her seat. I started off with the pumice stone, forcefully filing away any bits of extra dead skin from her feet. Unfortunately, a lot of force for me did not feel like that much to her, and the dainty nature of my touch caused her foot to spasm and kick me after a few minutes, her heel jutting out and slamming into my unprepared stomach, sending me tumbling across the carpet to the base of the TV stand.
“Oh my goodness, I’m sorry, you tickled me, you’ve got to have some good reflexes for this, are you alright?”
She’d started to stand up as I recovered, and I waved her back as I labored to my feet. My lower ribs felt like they’d cracked on impact, and I was sure I’d felt a snap, but I seemed to be fine, just had the wind knocked out of me a little. I sauntered back to her foot, feeling better with each step, and continued my work. I saw her controlling herself from kicking again, although i got her good enough again that her toes plowed into me, driving me backwards into the carpet once more, though not as forcefully as the first time. A few minutes later, after I’d neatly filed away almost every callus, I was working on the pad of her big toe when she suddenly adjusted her feet, pointed and spread her toes, and grabbed my head between her big toe and the index one. I thought my pants would explode from my body with the force of my erection, but I went completely limp, offering no resistance to whatever she was doing to me. She adjusted a bit and suddenly my throat was against the web of her toes here, nestled deep in the crevice of her toe cleavage, and she looked at me as her foot lightly choked me. My face felt fat and red as she asked me, “Now, I think we’re done with the filing, right? I’m just a little tired of being tickled, and while the full service spa treatment is nice, I’m here to be massaged. So, time to start rubbing, right?”
As she spoke, she tilted her foot back up on its heel, lifting me by the neck between her toes. I dropped the file and wrapped my hands around her toes to relieve some of the pressure from my neck while I attempted to frantically nod in agreement. She let me dangle there for a moment, for reasons that were not shared with me, and then she said, “Good. Get to work then!” And flared her toes, letting me drop back to the floor where I gasped and sputtered in her looming shadow. She could have easily killed me, hung me until death with just her two toes, and that scary scary fact… made me cum in my dumb little shorts.
I hid the wet spot from her and grabbed the lotion, spending most of the next hour pushing my hands first into this oily scented petroleum jelly, and then spreading it all over her foot. It did combine with her natural scent to make a new, incredibly pleasant smell that I found very alluring, though I hated the feel of the oily lotion on my skin, and after nearly an hour I think the peppermint extract had both fried my sense of smell and seemed to be irritating my skin, my arms up to my elbow a lightly burning shade of pink. I’d done quite a bit of work, and decided, with luckily dried pants, that now would be a good time to ask for a bath, as I hadn’t washed up in a bit.
She noticed me after a few moments of tapping, and reached down to grab me. “You did an excellent job, even with the calluses, I’m just a little ticklish. I'm glad you’re so tough! Now, what do you want, my little man?”
“Of course, no problem, I didn’t want to keep tickling you, it’s no problem at all, thanks for letting me fix it! Uh.. I’m a little dirty, and I’d love to take a bath, if it’s not too much trouble for you to set it up? I understand completely if you can’t or something, but I’d just like to go to bed clean tonight. If it’s not too much trouble. Please.”
I felt weird, like I was pleading my case to this entity that decided my fate, and the fact is that, I essentially was. I silently prayed for mercy, and that prayer was quickly answered as she happily responded, “Of course! I’d kind of forgotten about that, I’ll have to come up with a way to remember all your little needs too! Oh! Wait, have you been able to go to the bathroom? Are there any tiny messes I should know about?”
She looked at me, seemingly concerned, and I quickly answered, “No no no, nothing like that, I, uh.. I don’t need to go to the bathroom anymore? I think that’s one of the other things that’s changed about me? I guess? I’m really not sure, but I havent had to go at all, no matter what I eat or drink. One less thing to worry about!”
She laughed and then brought me to the restroom, drawing up a hot bath for me in a shallow dish, and then said she’d be back again in 15 minutes, same as the last time. I heard her walk away after she closed the door and stripped, using a dollop of body wash to soap up and scrub myself as clean as I could. As I relaxed in the bath, the warm, sudsy water lulled me into a sense of comfort, and I decided to do what I enjoyed doing when I had my full-sized bath: jack off. I know, I was a shameless pervert, and I’d already finished so many times today, including that involuntary spasm when she choked me between her toes, but maybe this was another size-related change, as I seemed to just… always be ready to go. A part of me wished I could keep this stamina forever, but the rest of me just wanted to wildly masturbate again. I imagined her toes around my throat again, a vice gripping my neck, and imagined what would have happened if she just didn’t release me. I would never be able to escape her, so I knew I would be completely at her mercy, but I imagined what she’d do next. In my mind, I’d be looking at her as she looked down at me, indifferent to whether I lived or died. I think, for her own amusement, she’d watch my face turn red, then purple, and then watch as my life started to fade, my face turned blue, and my body went limp in her grasp. And then I wondered whether she would keep me there, until she literally choked the life out of my spamming body with her perfect toes, or whether, after I passed out, she would release me and leave me crumpled at her feet until I awoke for her to enact a new torture on me.
I was pumping furiously now, holding my breath, heart pounding in my ears as I stroked wildly, and then the door opened. I screamed, and she squeaked in surprise as I stood up and tried to cover my erect, bouncing cock. I knew that I was small, but there was no way she didn’t see everything, and I could feel my face turn red as I looked up at her. She seemed shocked, covering her mouth, her eyebrows raised, her other hand on the door, and then I heard her exclaim, “Hey, I have- Oh my gosh! I found new clothes, I was- I’m sorry, go ahead and finish, I’ll come back, I forget you’re a young man!”
The door slammed shut and I collapsed into the water and a whirlpool of shame. My future mother-in-law just saw me stroking my cock. How would I explain that to my fiancé? I blew exasperated bubbles and silently thanked god for the small mercy that she didn’t know what I was thinking about while I went at it. I pulled myself from the mini-tub and toweled off with the hand towel she’d given me, wrapping myself up and waiting for her return.
A few minutes later there was a knock on the door, and then it opened just a crack and she said, “Are you, uh, done?”
I yelled out, “Yes, I, uh, I’m ready to go.”
The door opened the rest of the way, and she walked in, eyes averted for a moment and then she looked at me covered up and shook her head. “You were really going at it, huh? I gave you a time, didn’t you know I was coming? You’re not a little pervert who wanted me to see that, are you? That’s called sexual assault, and I’d murder up any man who tried to do that to me and I’ll be damned before I let my daughter marry a man like that! So what do you have to say for yourself?”
She was glaring at me, and I wilted under her glare, and softly explained, “I’m sorry, I guess I lost track of time and the bath was just so comfortable that I forgot about my situation, and I just felt.. normal for a little bit. I really didn’t mean to.. I didn’t mean for you to see any of that. I’m sorry, I really really am.”
She glared at me, for a very long time, and I fidgeted beneath her stern gaze until she sighed, “I understand. It must be hard for you and.. everyone has needs. I can’t blame you for taking care of yourself. Anyway, I found some more clothes for you, although calling them clothes might be a little.. generous.”
With that, she produced three pairs of tight, shiny looking spandex underwear in gold, blue and pink. I blushed, and she said, “ I know, they’re not particularly modest, but I thought you might want more options than just two pairs of shorts.”
There was a long pause as she set them down and looked at me for a moment, and then turned to leave. As she started to close the door, she did turn and say over her shoulder, “You know.. my daughter did mention that you were.. well. At least you’ll be able to fill out those boyshorts.”
She quickly closed the door behind her and suddenly I realized that she had just complimented my dick. I had no idea what to make of that, but.. I could certainly be proud of my boy. I tossed on one of the new threads, then put my slightly dirty GI joe shorts back on. A moment later, she knocked and then entered again, grabbing me from the counter and saying, “Well now that that’s all behind us, go head to bed, I’ve got to use the little ladies room, and there will be no barging in on my private moments.”
Her look was faux-stern and then she pushed me out the door and closed it behind her. Before I turned to leave I was vaguely aware that I could probably fit under the door if I wanted to, but obviously, that was a terrible idea.
By the time I climbed into bed, she had finished her business, and I heard her washing up before bed. She came into my room to say goodnight and gently stroked my head with the pad of her finger, “Well, a long day today. But it was a good one, even with the.. hiccups. Halfway through the work week tomorrow, ‘hump day’ as they say. I’ll see you tomorrow, little man. Goodnight.”
She walked out of the room and I felt lucky she was so caring. Some part of me feared she would say “Good riddance!” and flush me away to my death, down the toilet for my shitty behavior.
“Tomorrow I’ll be better,” I told myself, determined not to masturbate myself to sleep for the fourth day in a row. Late at night, I thought I heard soft panting in the darkness, growing louder for just a moment, and then stopping, a few hungry breaths in the night, before silence and sleep finally came.