Giantess World
As Cody was far too short to reach anything except the low humps of Bri’s heels, she helpfully toppled the standing towers of her feet now, making the whole landscape from toe-to-stern more accessible to the inch-high reformed fetishist unknowingly entrapped between them. Suddenly the caustic sweat-curdling atmosphere Cody had only sampled previously was localized hotly around him, kept mostly penned in by the meaty barricades of Bri’s not-so-small size-7s. Even after several minutes spent airing out, they were still glazed with standing liquid, and speckled all along the tender underbelly with stamped-in sock lint and outdoor grit. If he still had control of his body, or even his face, Cody would’ve been knocked to his knees, hacking and spewing at the tangible mist of post-gym-class essence stickily steaming from the blonde’s central arches. But Charlie was fully at the wheel now, and so Cody only got right to work, passionately rubbing the squishy terrain of her ripe soles while cloudy sweat gushed forth from her skin in response and dribbled down his arms.
“Hey, this is kind of better,” Bri sighed to her sister after another few minutes of fragrant backbreaking labor for Cody. “I haven’t really tried him out very much before. And definitely never when he’s this small. But… you were right. It’s not bad.”
If the little guy wasn’t so fatigued, nauseous, and afraid for his future as he filthily serviced these rosily ample soles, he might’ve derived some small comfort from Bri’s half-compliment. Of course it would’ve been much better to be actually recognized and rescued, but after more than a day of constant torment and excoriation from Kayla, any positivity was an improvement.
“Not bad? Uh, I don’t think so. What he’s doing now is still terrible,” Kayla scowled. She stamped her own sneaker-clad foot for emphasis, again letting Cody feel her furious tremor all the way up through the sofa. Unbalanced, he face-planted into the sodden pad of Bri’s foot flesh, unintentionally kissing the grody mass in the act of gasping for relief. “Honestly, I’m almost embarrassed that I was talking him up to you so much before. This, seriously, is not even close to his best.”
“Really? Huh. Interesting.”
“Totally! I’m starting to think we need to test out another recalibration method on him.”
“Well, whatever you think is best. I don’t know much about these little things. You’re the expert,” Bri deferred. Then, sifting both feet inward and planting them heavily before the tinker-toy butler with another hardy thump, soles-down, she gave her plump-bulbed digits an invitational wiggle. “Charlie, get to work on my toes now. Tops, sides, bottoms, all of it. And go as hard as you can now. No holding back.”
“Suit yourself,” Kayla smarmed, whipping out her phone again while Cody started wearily primping slime-and-dreck-coated toes larger than his whole body. “But I’m going to look up that other way to fix him anyway. I think I saw it on YouTube.”
“People make videos about it? Weird,” Bri commented absentmindedly, as her attention was in fact now more curiously devoted to the one-inch servant hunkered submissively before her perky toes. She couldn’t help but make them playfully writhe as Cody gave each pliable marshmallow-chunky digit its due time, cupping her broad toeprints and clawing at the shafts with 360-degree focus. Naturally she had no way of knowing how much he wanted to gag and then pass out from exhaustion now, even if it was right upon the firm pillowy orbs of her drenched toes. With a note of almost-apologetic endearment, Bri added: “Make sure you clear all the gunky bits out of there too, Charlie. You know, all that between my toes, from my socks and the dirt and stuff? Scrape it all off. Ugh, I can’t believe how much got stuck in there today.”
“Hey, no worries, that’s exactly what miserable itty-bitty foot-boy-bots like him are for!” Kayla reassured her sister. “Don’t be shy. Anything you need done down there, he’s going to do it. Only, he’ll do it way better after I find the dumb video I was watching earlier… okay, here we go! Hold on, I’ll be right back.”
“What are you… oh, whatever,” Bri muttered, giving up, as her sister practically sprinted out of the room. She and Cody heard a clattering from the other room, and then Kayla returned with a crystal-clear drinking glass in-hand, which she wedged directly between her sister’s bare feet on the couch cushion, allowing it to remain standing. “What’s that for? There’s not even anything to drink in it.”
“You’re not the one who’s going to be doing the drinking,” Kayla taunted.
“Um, okay then. So what do I do with it? This is really from a video to help fix little foot-rubbers like Charlie?”
“You bet it is. Don’t worry, I’ll talk you through it all. It looks pretty simple. First, grab your socks.”
Cody’s consciousness was, out of robotic necessity, almost-wholly paid now to kneading Bri’s quashy toe skin, harvesting the grimy shudder-inducing jam dregs, and allowing his body to soak up the lukewarm fluid frosted across her flesh and oozing out every time he massaged with the slightest pressure. Yet even with all these repugnant distractions, it was hard not to hear Kayla’s ominous hinting and receive an even worse pit in his gut than from the appetite-killing aroma wafting out of Bri’s toe cleavage. Couldn’t she at least be kind enough to get to the terrible point already?
“My… socks? Like, the gross ones I just took off?”
“Yep! Try not to squeeze ‘em too much when you pick them up, because you have to do that over the cup.”
“Wait…” Bri melodramatically huffed, sticking out her tongue. “I’m supposed to squeeze my gnarly drippy icky socks over the cup? I thought you said somebody had to drink it!”
“He does.”
“Ohhhhh.” Suddenly understanding, the blonde cocked her head at Cody, who by now was going through another internal crisis. Plainly confused and suitably disgusted, Bri looked back up at her sister for guidance again. “You’re telling me… that if Charlie drinks a little of the sweat from my socks… also, EWWW, by the way… it’s going to make him better at his job?”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself!” Kayla congratulated. “Except one correction: he has to drink a lot of your sweat. Like, a whole puddle. Whatever you can squeeze out for him. Which is why you should be careful not to let too much of it miss the cup! Yeah, I know, it’s weird, and I don’t even know all the science myself, but there’s a lot of chemical-y stuff happening in your sweat that helps give him a little extra… boost. Like a new battery. And sometimes getting a BIG dose of it all at once is the only way to charge him back to full. Hey, can what I say? I didn’t invent him like that.”