Giantess World
Almost immediately, Bri began ripping the Van shoestrings apart, going only for speed as she split the knots, popped her socked heels out first, then yanked the overly-loved footwear the rest of the way off. Both petite vessels were chucked to the floor with a satiated sigh from their owner, though to Bri’s wrinkle-nosed curiosity, Kayla quickly knelt down above them. Cody, from this debatably-better view, could see his keeper wasn’t bluffing. The insides were in a sorry state, with the fabric siding coming apart as fuzz, and the once-pure insole stained a foul gray, particularly dark in the foamy indentions created by Bri’s toes, heel, and the ball of her foot. With his body still incarcerated in Kayla’s unflinching fingers, Cody was held but six inches from the mouth of the nearest Van. First he felt the delicate waft of heat, then decoded the boggy festering of Bri’s freshly-vacated school-day foot garb. It made him wheeze aloud.
“What are you doing?” Bri questioned her sister. “Do they really smell that much? Don’t get so close to them, you’re gonna embarrass me.”
“Oh, just wondering if you want them to get a nice spring clean. They’re your favs, after all. And Charlie here is just dying for some extra work.”
“Really? He’s just Mom’s weirdo toy,” Bri scoffed. “He can’t “want” stuff. He just does it.”
“That’s true, but either way, he’s eager to please, once you give him an order,” Kayla said. Her hand descended, much to Cody’s rigid dismay, and slipped the four-incher right into the mouth without permission. While Bri’s total disinterest made the shrinker hope she’d protest the idea of having the robot servant in her shoe, she watched his entrance without a word of resistance. Though the Van still had open-air access through the unlaced mouth, Cody felt as though he’d stepped into a fully-heated sauna, as his immobile frame was placed face-down on the warped sweat-gray insole pad. The ground was just as mildewy as it smelled, almost slippery, and his face came unfortunately to rest right in the shallow depression of Bri’s big toe, the deeper Kayla tucked him.
“Fine, then. I guess they could look a little better. Plus maybe they’ll stink less after school, if he takes care of it,” the younger giantess relented. Her speech was muttered, though, as her most of her attention had already shifted to the phone in her palm. While swiping through social media, her other hand commenced plucking her wet-clinging socks off her cooped feet one at a time, then flung them beside the Vans. “I don’t really pay attention much when Mom uses him, honestly. Does he just do it?”
“Nope, you’ve got to give him a command first. And I think Mom had them program in your voice, too, so he should be under your control.”
“Oh,” Bri said, still unimpressed. “Okay, uh… Charlie… clean up the inside of my shoe.”
Though this edict was vague, Cody’s mechanized limbs got to work, instead scrubbing and chipping away at the aged insole flap by hand rather than mouth. While the odor of the Van interior was clouded thickly around him now, giving him a stiffer and cheesier full-course sample of Bri’s tired feet than he ever thought he’d receive or desire, it was still a marked improvement to be excavating molded-in sole filth without using his tongue. Maybe Bri’s detached adolescent attitude would save him after all. Surely Charlie’s encyclopedic know-how of foot and shoe care could get the thing just as clean this way too?
“Hmmm, no, I don’t think that’s going to do it,” Kayla thoughtfully commented, shattering Cody’s hopes.
“Huh? Why not?” Bri asked, distracted from her phone again.
As the four-inch bot in her shoe swiveled to work on scraping sock fuzz and dirt grains from the heel section, he was able to turn his head just high enough toward the light for a slightly more hygienic oxygen gasp. However, this also meant receiving a gulp-inducing view to the blonde giantess’s newly-unsheathed bare peds, both of which were rested casually over the cushion’s edge, with one squat-arched pink sole in particular resting dangerously near to the hovel of her imprisoning Van. Her toes, like puffy little pillow-mints, squiggled and aired out the grooves between, which even against the stale mist of her shoe guts, Cody was pretty certain he could distinctly inhale, the aroma yet more vivid when sourced directly from her pliant foot flesh.
“Well, from what I’ve seen, he just doesn’t do as good a job if he doesn’t lick it up,” Kayla answered.
“Oh, okay. I guess I do hear Mom telling him to do that stuff a lot. Seems weird. But whatever works, I guess. I never knew you were this into her dumb toy. So… I just tell him to lick it?”
“Sure. It might help if you also give him an amount to do it.”
“No problem,” Bri said, not even looking up from her phone. “Hmmm… an amount…”
Her toes briefly scrunched together overhead of Cody, cutely furrowing the wrinkles of her not-so-cutely-scented sole pad. That foot was scrawny, probably smaller even than Diane’s size-5.5, and yet the robo-fellow would’ve been shivering in pants-pissing dread of it right now, if he still had bodily autonomy. She could cover him with that sole, bury him in unwashed peach-dimpled arch flesh down against the swarthy dark-gray Van basin and grind until the heat and grodiness of her giant body became indistinguishable from the shoe. And all without pausing in her decision to like someone’s Instagram post or not.
“Okay, sure. Charlie, lick the inside of my shoe. How about… five hundred times. Start right now, dummy.”
So many alarm bells went off in Cody’s head as he instantaneously rammed his face into the rumpled fluid-ingrained insole for lick duty, he didn’t even realize for several seconds that the cackling he heard wasn’t internal, but coming from Kayla above. It wasn’t just villainous laughter at his expense, though that tone was present, but mainly one of genuine surprise. It seemed Cody’s amazonian secret-keeper had underestimated her sister, too.
“Did that sound better?” Bri asked.
“Yep, I think that’ll just about do it!” Kayla replied, still enraptured with amusement by her bored phone-glued little sibling’s nonchalance. Of course the girl had no idea what was happening, but based on the marathon of perspiration-fermented tongue torture Cody had in store next, Bri might as well have been a princess yawning in the middle of ordering a peasant’s beheading.
For her part, the blonde had all but forgotten about her mother’s techno-plaything the moment after she issued him this harrowing order. And Kayla seemed content to leave her prisoner to his dire consequences below, by hopping up on the couch beside her sister and flipping on the TV. Her own much-larger sun-tanned soles soon hovered over the sneaker beside Bri’s, where they were plainly visible to the shoe-inmate beneath. Meanwhile, Cody tried not to count down the licks, since this knowledge would only make the wait seem longer, but since he needed something to occupy his mind with other than the gag-worthy horror of battling the entire sweaty history of a badly-worn Van’s caked-in toe crevice runoff, he did so anyway. Every taste seemed to take longer than the last. Regretfully, even with so many tongue-lashes ahead, Charlie’s programming treated each open-lipped stroke like the most passionate prelude to eating out a lover, except it just kept on repeating over and over.
At ten laps, Cody was more than done. By twenty, his own robo-tongue started to feel like a separate antagonistic entity: a tool meant only to slurp the next soggy crusted-in funk pieces toward his throat. After fifty laps, Cody felt he’d experienced the worst of Bri’s long-stewed foot flavor, lacking even the minor mercy that post-gym class shower might’ve provided, but he’d soon learn he was wrong. He’d prayed that the longer the shoe was unoccupied by its socked thick-soled regular tenant, the more that trickled air could filter through and soften at least some of the lung-rotting stomach-turning gristliness. Yet if anything, the exposure to the outside world seemed to make the salty pore-excretions and melted dirt speckles spoil all the faster, like milk left out in summer sun. Bri’s after-school malodor only took on more complexity as Cody bypassed a triple-digit lick without even a break to stop and cry from sheer detestation.
“How do you think he’s doing?” Kayla asked her sister a while later, while booting up the third episode of whatever show she’d chosen.
“Who?” Bri mumbled with bona fide confusion, returning instantly to her phone again. “Oh! Him. Uh, I hope good? But whatever, you know? I mean, they’re just shoes.”