I awaken in a haze.

Where am I? Oh… of course. I’m still stuck to the bottom of Mom’s foot.  She's gotten to where she was walking to and her tonnage is off of me, so she must be sitting somewhere. But as much as I doubted I would be for a moment, I’m still very much alive. I inhale sharply, deeply, thankful for the sudden peace, not caring that I’m smelling nothing but Mom’s feet. Not caring that it’s exactly what I know she wants. It’s reached that point. The smell of Mom’s foot is invading my mind, wrapping around my very thoughts. I hear Kristie Stone, my mom, giggling. I remember her pounding me into this state before, just to watch me helplessly sniff her feet as she giggled like a little girl down at me from on high. 

Am I hallucinating?

I hear her snickering in the distance, echoing. No, there's too much echo for it to be real. This has got to all be in my head.

Suddenly I’m being jarred around violently. Mom has started tapping her foot. She continues, uncaring that her tiny daughter is being pummeled by her sweaty sole with every movement. Maybe she doesn’t even realize she’s doing this. This goes on for a while. I’m in Mom’s shoe enough that I can usually predict her movements, and I can hear well enough to have a good idea where she is. Right now she’s sitting at the computer desk. I hear her typing occasionally. Clicking on something. Sometimes sound will blare from the massive speakers on top of the desk, although it is muffled. When she listens to music, at least I get to hear it…

Finally, there is some shifting, and… cool air comes rushing into the shoe. This is the first time I’ve been out of the shoe all day. I went to bed last night and woke up smashed under Mom’s sweaty, doughy foot-flesh.

I don’t even know why I’m down here. Yet I'm hopelessly stuck to the sole of her foot, even as giant sneaker prison drops away from me.

“...Mom,” I mutter.

“You’re… very, very grounded,” she booms. “I’m sick of your laziness. You're lucky I even let you keep that room of yours if you won't even keep it clean.” 

I start sobbing. There’s no way she could hear me at my size, but I’m still afraid of incurring her wrath so I try to stop. “These one or two day sessions aren’t really putting a dent in your laziness, are they?” she ponders, squinting her huge blue eyes down at me. “How would you like to live in my shoe for the rest of the month? How’s THAT sound?” Mom adds with a scowl. She’s seriously in a bad mood. She tilts her foot a bit to the side, simultaneously tilting her head to the side. Of course she’s at the computer desk… I’m looking up at her from underneath. I can’t answer, and she’d never hear if I tried. She wiggles her massive toes around, watching my tiny naked form move along with her moist, doughy flesh. Squinting a bit. Smirking. “How do my feet smell?” she grins. She looks perfectly content now: a beautiful giant woman having some playful fun at my tiny expense.

But she’s my mom. It’s legally her right.

“Well…” Mom grins. “Since we’re having such fun with all of this… mother-daughter bonding…” she trails off, as she repositions her foot over her vacant shoe. “You're staying that size for a month,” she declares.

No. Please God, no. I can’t do a whole month.

I’m being plunged back into Mom’s shoe. Darkness, and weight.  Then more weight. I feel her press me down into the insole. Hard. Harder. The pressure is increasing so rapidly… when I realize she is already standing up, a pathetic whimper escapes from me, as tears start streaming down my tiny cheeks.

Harder. Harder! HARDER!

…I scream.

...

Mom rests her foot on me, with most of her weight, shifting it around for a moment. “Alisa, remember, most shrinkers simply stay shrunk. It’s such a hassle, changing your size and all… but I still do it, out of love for the successful daughter you might have been. I'm just too soft...” I hear her musing above.

Then she starts walking, her foot flesh molding around me, then crushing me, then lifting and doing it again, and again. Step, after step… after step….

*          *          *

“WAKE UP.”

Opening my eyes, my vision is filled with my mother’s impossibly huge face, but everything is blurry and I can’t keep my focus…. life is like a record, skipping. Everything is… fuzzy…. I can’t focus on anything, except for the fact that I’m still tiny, and I’m still plastered to a sweaty bare sole. “…ALISA,” her stern voice breaks through. “…WAKE UP!” And for a moment I do wake up, but that doesn’t last long before my mind is drifting…

…away….

…

…

…To darkness…

…

…Is this the end?

…

…Has she done it this time?

…Did she crush me…?

…

…I can’t pull myself back…

…Is this what it’s like… to die?

…

… wake up…

…

“…WAKE UP GIRL.” I suddenly hear my dad’s deep voice bellow from a distance. I’m jolted awake. Looking past my mother’s awesomely huge face, I see my dad, standing against the wall. “STAY WITH US,” he booms, his voice deeply reverberating.

I’m now awake, and I seem to be alive, as I usually am even after a long crushing day of being an insole.  Mom knows how to push me to the limit.

Dad’s voice was… so startling. I’m scared of him.

“There,” Mom continues. I zone in on her massive blue eyes, finally able to take in the situation. She’s sitting on the kitchen chair, with her confining sneaker pulled off, and has her arm around her leg, pulling her foot around where she can easily see me. Again, her face fills my vision. She squints down at me, wiggling her massive sweaty toes around above me. “Anna called, she’s coming over to pick you up. You never tell me when you two make plans,” she says bluntly. “I guess we’ll have to postpone your grounding,” she finishes.

Anna. Anna and I used to be best friends. She’s about a year older than me. Mom and Dad love her. Before I found out I was a shrinker we played together and visited her a lot, as she lives just down the road. She was always bossy, and I remember Mom chastising me for “always letting Anna have her way.” But I didn’t care that much, since we were such good friends. It's just the way we were.

Since I found out I was shrinker, though... Mom has encouraged Anna to "assist" with my discipline.  Things are so different now.  I’ve spent many, many hours helplessly being slid around between my (former) best friend Anna's sweaty toes, longing for days long passed.

Now Anna calls me... toe-jam. 

Still... she sometimes takes an interest in me beyond that. She did remember my birthday last year, bringing me a cupcake. She’s taken me riding horses a couple of times, even since she found out I was a shrinker… not in her shoe either, actually riding, like we used to. A few years back, she even gave me a beautiful green anklet that I keep in my cabinet… Although, she only gave it to me after I complimented her on it after a long day of being smashed under her foot.

But back to the moment at hand. I look up, still seeing my curly haired, goddess of a mother peering down at me. I’m stuck to her sweaty sole. I’ve been lost in thought for only a few seconds… perhaps I’m still not all the way awake, my mind is certainly wandering. My right eye doesn’t really want to stay open. For some reason does that after being smashed for a few hours, but I guess that’s to be expected. “Remember, you’re still grounded, so we’re only unshrinking you for Anna. She might shrink you right back,” Mom finishes, twisting the violet jewel dangling from her neck by a chain.

The jewel on her necklace. That’s what my mom uses to shrink me, and to unshrink me. Glossy, shaped like a diamond, but split horizontally down the middle. With a quick twist, it determines my size. It was made for me, and was tuned specifically for my shrinking frequency. And that’s the difference between a “shrinker” and a normal person. Normal people have no shrinking frequency.

I, and all other shrinkers, do.

Mom chose a beautiful violet emerald to be my jewel. It’s not my birthstone or anything, just her favorite color.

…

I suddenly awaken. 

…

I’m in my bed, sore, hardly able to move.