Cheap Fittings

By Le Marquis

– Seven a clock in the morning –

Heather, an attractive blonde, stood in front of a big shelf containing all her exquisite shoes. To her, footwear was a kind of fetish. To watch her well-kept feet glide into the soft leather and pose in front of the mirror made her horny. Thinking about ordinary sex never was such a turn on, and from this point of view she acted like many female shoe fetishists. If at all dreaming of men she imagined them down on the floor, adoring her feet and shoes.

She possessed airy sandals for sunny days, lots of shiny pumps and mules in different colours, sexy bootees and on the lowest panel some boots with long shafts, intended for cooler days or rather hot disco events. And speaking to these articles she sighed: “Who wants to carry me today?”

For footwear it was all but common to worship classy feet like hers. And Heather was crazy enough to hear them plead: “Me, please take me!” In her imagination they were bewitched men, born to suffer for women. Real men, on the other hand, Heather didn't even notice.

She’d loved to take the red strappy sandals, because seldom she had the opportunity to wear things designed to catch everyone’s eyes. But knowing, in her position it wasn’t wise to look too slutty, she discarded that thought. Her usual business outfit, black or dark gray with dress pants or dignified skirts, demanded suitable shoes. After all, at work the maturely lady had to look consistent with her authority, though – or rather because she was all but a wallflower.

It tempted her to pick the black cowgirl bootees with laces. But inside the lecture halls, where she was standing and walking the whole day, boots definitely would become to hot for her delicate toes. So as always the assortment shrank down to some patent leather pumps and gray suede pumps with sexy small slits, showing only the gap between her longest toes.

The first named she wore preferably barefooted because of the thrilling combination of white skin and black leather. That made her feel like a dominatrix. The open pumps were more fashionable, looking the best with fawn, white or gray stockings. And with fine woolen socks they even became painful sexy.

With the proper footwear she could control the mind of every male student. For Heather it really was an easy task to wrap tame foot slaves around her slender toes. And sometimes she loved to tease those young guys.

The decision wasn’t easy – every morning the same torture! Sometimes she wished to have fifty legs to wear all her shoes together.

The most used but well shaped business pumps had one thing common. They were designed for hard working women, what could be seen by the special designed insoles with a cavity for some kind of gel-wear. It's about cheap but useful fittings against the pain amidst the ball of the foot and the unpleasant smell nylon covered toes are developing.

Especially an always well dressed professor like Heather was in need to consume those additives, at least because all her fetishes showed off with heels of four inches and more. And wearing high heels is laborious, causing cheesy feet every day!

By and by she went late for work. The radio playing in the background finally took it out of her hands by saying: “It’s going to be very hot today.” Immediately the blonde grasped the open toed couple and whispered: “Not only male students will be caught by the sexy look!”

Watching the small slits she joked, “little air is better than no ventilation” and put them on a stool for further preparation. Musing she rolled her eyes and added: “A good decision, because this morning I have no time to shower. My today’s fittings are hopefully strong enough to compensate the aftermaths of it.”

Again she couldn’t stand her quirk to talk to articles as if they were human beings. Maybe a result of her loneliness as a single.

Childlike smiling she opened the top flap of a cage standing in the same shelf. Sticking her fingers inside and fumbling around she grasped two of the badly needed cushions. Hundreds she consumed since they got affordable. And meanwhile they became ludicrous cheap mass products, much too insignificant for a further inspection.

Now you really could hear several silent voices, but most of them didn't scream the same she imagined after addressing her shoes. These voices shouted: “Not me, please not me!”

Every article, simply called fitting, was naked except of black trunks to prevent annoying underage customers. They were less than four inches long and with their eyes full of the fear of death. But not only fear mauled them. Some were extremely aroused too, as a result of their submissive nature. Women would say: “Typical male!”

The almost forty years old professor, well used to it, neither felt guilty nor sorry for them, because the health situation of her feet had changed so drastically, that it became unthinkable to go anywhere without this helping stuff.

Yes, to her these guys were nothing but any stuff. It didn’t even matter that many of them were saturated with pubertal thoughts, what caused strong and strange sexual feelings, because no law protected minor insoles!

Someone may ask, why she treated her own genus in such a cold manner. The answer is easy and terrifying logical: Concentrated working while thinking about them as human beings turned out to be absolutely impossible. In the beginning some girls tried to do so and got problems with their chiefs. So it was best to take them as the lifeless wear they replaced. And that turned out less difficult as suspected, because correctly worn their presence wasn’t even touchable. The special shoes, no matter if flat or high heeled, felt like normal shoes!

After bringing out useful instruction books the women learned to lead a normal live without complications. Meanwhile male insoles also were a subject matter of basic schools, because they emerged in all discounters and weren't made especially for adult customers. The possibility to get a well known guy, maybe a classmate or even the own brother, was one thing the girls had to be prepared for!

– Six years ago –

Heather and her much younger friend, a real Celt with long red hair, white skin, shiny green eyes and some sweet freckles, enjoyed their vacation, sunbathing beside an empty pool. Laura already was a doctor of physics and lecturing at the same university. All men called her a true goddess, though she was a little overweighted. That may sound like exaggeration, but believe me, the male students of her class melted away like butter!

Lazing around on the canvas chair Heather studied a fashion magazine. Suddenly she giggled and spoke: “That’s incredible! Here you can buy living insoles which are able to absorb your foot odour. A box with fifty pieces, enough for at least 25 days, are available for ten pounds.”

Laura, nearly sleeping, opened her eyes and said: “I don’t understand! You mean, there are some animals you can use as insoles? That’s nonsense! You shouldn’t believe every crap!”

Putting down the magazine Heather replied: “Crap? I don’t think so! And the most thrilling is, these things aren’t animals. It's about real alive men, all without future. Most of them are criminals or other socially unacceptable individuals. And lots of them are foot fetishists.

Can you imagine to walk on two men loving your disgusting smelly feet? Well, I surely can, because there are some mean guys I could banish in the darkness of my boots without batting an eye.”

Now peering over her friend’s shoulder Laura said: “Ugh, that’s disgusting!” And Heather replied: “Right! But not everyone has such horrible feet like you and me. And here it becomes really paradox. The stronger the foot odour is, the more smell-sensitive they make them. Girl, we can get slaves designed especially for us!”

Because the redhead was too tender-hearted to kill men, Heather added: “Well, you can’t compare them with guys you know, though it’s not unlike to buy a package containing an acquaintance. They are like tissues or tampons. You buy them, use them and dispose them without further thoughts. That’s the way it should be!”

Confirming the possibility to get an acquaintance Heather alluded to Kevin, the world’s biggest dick-head. Currently he was Laura’s cohabitee and treated her like his ex-wife and daughter, both happy to be separated from him. To the 25 years old girl this man was an abscess and she often wished to dismiss him. But he was tall, extremely aggressive and much to strong for a physical fight. And thinking about him changed her attitude.

The copper-blond beauty knelt down and whispered: “I see! But think clearly! 50 men for 25 days means to kill two of them every day. That’s murder in the most cruel and debasing way. It’s so horrible that thinking about Kevin as one of my insoles makes me – how should I say? Well yes, it makes me wet!”

Laughing Heather replied: “That’s my girl! Look at this interesting paragraph. It’s possible to expand their lifespan by wearing special shoes with sole-separations. Kevin would suffer pretty long under your cheesy toe dust. I for my part want to try it out. And when I'm satisfied I buy the matching shoes.”

Baffled Laura mentioned, that nearly all men had to be criminals to fix the market. And her friend replied: “You remember me saying that some of them are foot fetishists? Well, that’s already criminal enough. This world the longest has been a men’s world, ha-ha!”

The end of this day at the pool was, that Heather really tested the new products, first in normal shoes. Her friend on the other hand didn’t feel heartless enough to follow her. She decided to wait, what took at least several years.

Meanwhile Laura’s situation got worse in a way that she had to inform the authorities about Kevin, what immediately reformed her life. She couldn't believe how easy it was and never regretted this drastic move!

The roughneck met a feministic judge and was convicted to become a slave for strong perspiring feet. A female doctor, to him a young parvenu he wanted to slap, gave his nose the highest sensitivity a man could stand, specialised his intestines to digest nothing but female toe-jam and enjoyed a little revenge by putting him in one of her white clogs. It was more than depressing, because he had to endure a whole workday under the wet toes of a girl which hated him.

For this macho it even would have been unacceptable to suffer under a woman of his wife's age. So it was true hell to spend a day in the shoe of the 24 years old doctor. And exactly that was the reason why his life went more depressing the next day. He vanished in the left sneaker of a youth.

Like many girls of her age she was sportive, playing tennis, dancing and exercising athletics. She was jogging and cycling every day, pushing up the little problem what additives like him were made for.

Like mentioned, no law protected underage insoles from being exhausted by much older feet. And in the same way Kevin was forced to endure a completely different fate. The once dreaded rowdy now suffered under petite young toes, each stronger than his whole body and beating his face without mercy.

Magnifying his humiliation was the knowledge whose property he became, though he couldn’t see her. He only saw the balloon sized tips of her toes seconds before they rubbed over his body and settled down with force around his head, engulfing him in hot smudgy flesh. Well, like many girls she wore her sneakers without socks.

The jauntily running and jumping teen was used to living men inside her shoes. Her mother took care of it since she became a cheerleader. And she never wanted to know who they were or rather have been, because to her these items were as unimportant as tissues. She wore them as thoughtless as many girls these days.

Kevin's struggle for survival lasted thirty days until the strong female cheese had saturated all his cells. He still was alive when he got the confirmation whose insole he'd became since her mother, who flushed him down the toilet, truly was his wife.

– Back in the teacher's changing cubicle –

Untouched by the small crying faces Heather turned her fittings one by one and removed the film of a glue strip covering the whole back. Then she knelt down and pressed them in the flat pits of her insoles. So the young humans, once average boys next door, automatically got the perfect position and became literally parts of the upholstered foot beds. That means, their only legacy on god's earth was a pair of black shoes one could handle like common footwear.

Looking out a sickle shaped gap build by the edge of the leather roof above and the ankle wall rising up in the sky they no longer felt like independent individuals. They really felt like some kind of cushions sewed in by the cobbler and sold as a pair of fife inch high pumps. And she, the giant graduate, saw them equally, because not one single slave was important enough to catch her eyes.

Exactly that was the most thrilling experience. For some of them female feet always had been sexual objects. And they knew by standing in the cage for several days, that high heeled shoes were hers. This way fetishists degenerated to the desire of another fetishist. What in hell could be more humbling? Well, more humbling was the experience of those who didn't like feet!

Now the footwear was ready. From the crotch to the neck both men embodied a spared piece of cushion amidst the sole, forced to comfort the wide ball of the foot of a full-grown woman. This promised to be a bone-crushing experience in two ways, physically and psychically, because the guys knew Heather since their childhood. She was a neighbour at the age of their parents.

The slim legs, also glued in accurate dimensioned pits, completed the aslope area of the sole. They acted like anchors for further stabilisation, pointing to a patch showing in golden letters the word Paris and the European size 38. At the other side protruded the face from the slim cavity. It was equipped with an extra sensitive nose enhanced by both the shrinking and an injection, forcing the best possible smell absorption.

The black dome above wasn't less than two feet distant, showing the immense thickness of the adult foot. And yet the fresh slaves had no clue of their daily ordeals. At best they got small imaginations of the pressures and crushes during walking, stepping downstairs or running by using images of mom's feet hitting the kitchen floor. They weren't able to see that compared to them these feet carried several hundred tons. And they never cold be prepared for the much stronger odour inside the shoe, magnified by nylon stockings and the fact that this lady wasn't one who wore shrunken men just for fun. But all of this didn't matter!

In consequence of their position and size the head wasn’t amidst the free space build by the arches of her toes. In fact the slave’s chin would be under the bulging front of the ball of her foot. And that was necessary to bring it's tiny nose near the dead end of the second toe gap, where the dampness and acid like cheese became skin burning hot.

Exactly this was the main reason why women preferred to wear human fittings. They were literally breathable insoles and unable to prevent sniffing the whole day trough. It was a job without payments and breaks, because at night they absorbed the remaining mouldiness. So they had to inhale the noxious stench 24 hours a day!

Theoretically Heather was aware of all the pain and disgust someone must endure in her shoe. But having cheesy feet should never ever be her problem. And when the installation was done, there was nothing more to care about. Everyone knew: Living insoles do what they’re made for, if willingly or not. They sniff automatically due to the rising and falling air pressure inside the toe-vault. It’s like becoming mechanical ventilated.

Thinking about nothing but the day’s duties she grasped the first one. Lifting the foot up to her rear she pulled the soft leather over the toes and brought it down to twist the rough heel in. Even with stockings it scratched frightening! The same happened with the other brat. He too felt the forward rubbing of the heavy roller and the increasing air-pressure when the rear of the foot submerged.

Then she examined her sexy legs in front of the mirror, nodded one time and left the changing cubicle. The remaining slaves in the cage received a brief disdainful look saying: “Sooner or later it's your turn!”

In the now pitch black chamber everyone could hear her stiletto-like leather heels. They nailed down concrete stairs and scratched along the parking lot, until the door of a car slammed shut. Well, when it was loud enough to climb up six floors, how ringing must her steps have been for the flattened buddies? Did the womanhood ever think about something like that? The answer was quite simple: Out of sight, out of mind!

– One week later –

Coming home from shopping Heather filled up the almost empty cage, giving the remaining two slaves the chance for a relative long live. This morning she bought a family package – fife hundred men for 4.75 £. And as they saw the beautiful face of their fate, she jokingly mentioned: “Uncommon ambitious feet like mine consume men like popcorn, ha-ha.” It was her usual welcome!

The sexy tutor was strong, mighty and self-confident. And she enjoyed it to be at the top of the food chain. But this day had something up to it's sleeve what should let her stumble a bit.

Several hours later her friend Laura spread out on the couch. They hadn't seen each other for nearly six years because of her working far away in Germany. Now she was back and again tutoring at the same university.

Eager to hear more about her experiences with these tiny things she was allowed to watch them walk around the cage like mice or hamsters. The alluring redhead never could bring herself to wear men underfoot, although she learned to perform other cruelties with German Tom thumbs. But this day she changed her mind after detecting a special one. Immediately Laura's heartbeat increased as if falling in love!

Returning from the cubicle she grumbled: “Live isn't fair, because you got one of my greatest, now smallest adorers. And the worst is, that this man really loves my feet. Yes, you can believe me! Whenever we saw each other, he scanned the floor. Life really sucks!”

Puzzled by her theatrical manner Heather replied: “Are you kidding? Well, when you want him, you only have to say it! I mean, what's the problem? They are as cheap as tissues! Maybe in future you can’t buy only one pair because of the low price.”

Maliciously giggling Laura said: “You always had the ability to play the cool lady. And I love it. But are you cool enough to utilize all of them similarly if I tell you I’m talking about Bryan? Maybe you should inspect the cage occupants a little closer!”

First Heather took it as a joke. Then she went pale and had to steady herself with two hands on the sofa. Her dawned, this wasn’t only possible but extremely probable, because her little brother often spoke of Laura as the most beautiful woman on earth. He even considered to marry her any time. Furthermore he belonged to the caste of long time unemployed males the government didn't like. But his addiction to feet she never noticed becoming a true fetish. With all combined he really was doomed!

Heather knew, her friend wasn’t kidding. And she knew as well, no man should be forced to suffer under the stinky toes of the own sister. No, he couldn't be that dump to volunteer for it, especially since it was an extremely hot summer. Or did she underestimate him?

The first time in her life she was forced to think of these worthless articles as human beings. It felt like discriminating herself and the whole womanhood. And it made her sorry and angry the same time.

Teasing her a little more Laura said: “Now you try to register them not only as utensils, right? I know, for our sex it isn’t easy to imagine how they must feel. It’s an abstract but not uninteresting point of view, isn't it? But I think, especially women like us, two scientists, should be able to see the world with other eyes.

Could you really stomp your own brother to death? I don’t think so! But what else can you do with him? Can you offer him an acceptable live, maybe in your old doll house?”

Heather went more pale, shook her head and spoke in a serious manner: “To be honest, no! Items like him aren’t meant to enjoy a manlike life. Without the smell of female toes he would die even harder. That's a side effect of making him an insole. Ironically the worst poison for them keeps their lives until they are saturated with cheese and so to say worn out.

But I can’t abrade my beloved brother. He always was such a beautiful person, the best sibling a girl can have. I wished you’d kept your mouth shut!”

The smart redhead saw her friend as sorrow as never before. She had to do or say something to take the burden off of her shoulders. And acting in the only matching way she said: “When it’s OK for you, I solve the problem by doing something I never did. At least he would serve someone he loves. So I ask you: Can I have him, please?”

Watching her sternly the blonde replied: “I can’t figure, from his viewing angle it would make any difference to be stomped by you, me or any other woman on this planet. Be honest, dear! In every shoe it is pitch black. And when I consider your spleen for long boots, I’d rather prefer to be flattened by an elephant. If he’s clever, he runs from you and jumps in one of my booties.

But don't let us act as if he's under disability, because Bryan, as tiny he may be, is almost thirty years old. He may tell us his own decision!”

Pointing at crimson suede pumps standing in the corner Laura curiously asked: “And when he really jumps in one of these vapour-baths over there? Would you utilize him tonight or spare him for an other occasion and again for another and so on? Any time you would need to get down to brass tacks!”

Meditatively the blonde whispered: “If that is his decision, I have to accept it. Maybe I'd do him a favour by wasting his life as fast as possible, the more so as these shoes are but out for dancing tonight.”

Immediately she stood up and vanished in her changing cubicle. And one minute later she brought her brother over to the living room and set him on the table. Standing dominant with her hands on her hips she sternly asked: “Tell me the truth. When you got caught and turned in an insole, was it your last wish to be sold to me?” To her relief he shook his head, and so he was allowed to look at her friend.

Overhearing their conversation, he watched the big Gael as if standing in front of a goddess. Powerless he knelt down and showed nothing but pure adoration. He was hers since he met her the first time.

That was enough for an answer. So Heather said: “You can have him and a second one for the other shoe. But you must promise to treat him right. What he has been to us, my brother and your lover, is over. You understand?”

Laura’s smile scared him a little. She put her right foot on the table and replied: “Keep cool, my friend! To be my first living insole means nothing. I know very well how to use that stuff. And in preparation of getting some sooner or later I bought these high heeled boots. They have removable insoles with special pockets. After the boys are installed, you have normal looking foot-beds with nothing but small elevated faces. The clerk assured me that it would be more hygienic.”

Then she looked down to her lover and said: “I’m really happy with your decision. Right now, after eight hours in these boots, my juicy toes are longing for competent care stuff. Hopefully your nose is sensitive enough to absorb more intense cheese too.

Now listen shrimp! Since you always have been a foot fetishist you may last several weeks, depending on the kind of shoes I wear. So I think it makes sense to tell you primarily my rules, because I surely don’t speak to shoes or other inanimate things.

You aren’t allowed to fidget, because I expect to feel no difference to normal insoles. I also want to hear nothing but the common shoe sounds. Insoles have to be quiet! And when you behave, I’m able to forget about you in a short time, because that’s the only way to use you out in public.

In the case of your function as an odour eater I expect a low smell level the whole day through, no matter how long I work. Most likely today you’ll not reach this level, because my toes had plenty of time to get greasy. But its a good welcome and also a warning never to get lazy!

Although I’m a tutor as well, your days at work will not be the worst. Why?Well, as the brother of a woman you should know about female foibles like dancing, shopping etcetera. Tomorrow, for example, Heather and me spend the whole day at the mall, where I need all you can accomplish and maybe more. By the way, you’re destined for nothing but high heels. And because there are no more limits, these boots, or rather the right one, will be your new home until I decide to wear other shoes. Any last questions?”

Bryan was speechless since never expecting his dream girl to be like all the others. To him she always was someone special. And now she spoke like a true Celtic goddess demanding human sacrifices.

Somehow he felt rescued, although he wasn’t. But the imagination of her leaving the changing cubicle without detecting him send more shivers down his spine. He would have been forced to think about her all days, left alone as one of hundreds without names or even numbers. And one gruesome morning it would've been him vanishing in his sister's shoe and to be consumed by cheesy toes as fast as all the others. Now he was at least in the lucky position to be called by his name.

While being caught in these thoughts his mistress pulled her skirt up and began to open the long zipper. It rattled down slowly, counting down his last moments as a human being. Then the shaft widened and released a fug knocking him over. He knew very well, this was absolutely nothing compared to the climate around her slender toes.

Everyone could see, to her all of it was more than just taking an insole. She felt similar to him and acted teasingly slow, chaining his submissive soul to her foot. Laura pulled out the heel, showing her high arched instep, and let the ball of the foot glide upwards until the next waft of thick cheesy air hit him. To his surprise the smell instantly found its way, as if his sensitive nose was acting like a magnet.

Unwittingly the redhead wore Brian’s favourite stockings. They were thin, snow white and without reinforcements. And to top it all she wore dark red nail polish, increasing the feminine look much more.

Sitting on his back now, with his legs stretched forwards, Brian watched the descent of her gargantuan heel, until it got pressure and grew wide. The wrinkled sole hovered over him, so that he had to look straight up to see the slightly reddened ball of the foot. It was wider than him tall!

Most of her toes stood out of sight since they were stretched upwards. He only saw a little bit of their soft looking tips. The whole foot, a mixture of snow white and pink, had this deceivingly soft look, because it was female and well-tended. But it also was bone-crushing gigantic.

The 3 ½ inch tall shrimp only had to calculate a little to know what was ahead. Based on the shrinking factor 19.7 and the lady’s weight, roundabout 120 pounds, the static load of her sweet foot would be up to 460 tons, normally far more than enough to squeeze a small man to nothing.

As a matter of course Bryan was extremely durable, what may sound good. But not to die under the crushing weight meant to be killed by something else. And every human insole knew very well, what it was he had to fear!

After mocking him a little Laura commanded to crawl backwards. She waited until he was far enough from the heel and began to lower the front of her foot, revealing what most men called the sexiest part.

Magnified by the nylon the deep vault of her toes was extremely thrilling, showing flawless white skin as if freshly bathed. But the minute she spread and wiggled her toes slightly, this illusion was gone in an instant. Bryan could hear the clamminess between the soft flanks and received another, much stronger wave of cheese. He loved it, as mortal it might be.

Apart from that her toes now looked all but slender. From his point of view, forced to turn his head to see all of them, they were massive like tree trunks and as strong as a scrap baling press.

Laura played with his fear and lust. All she did was deliberate to syntonise his brain to what he was made for. He should forget about his person-hood how she would after installing him. He should learn to feel and act like an insole, free of human thoughts and sexual arousals.

Lowering her toes a little further she said: “I hope you understand the importance of your life-task, how short it might be. But because you are my best friend’s brother I decided to deplete you as fast and painless as possible. That’s why I consider right now if it wouldn't be best to let you in this boot until you're worn out. You really should be thankful for it!

And now it’s time to become useful. If nothing intervenes, there should be no reason to speak to you anymore. Bye-bye my little friend!”

Laura withdrew her right foot and placed it far below on the wooden floor. With increasing heartbeat Brian stared through the glass plate and enjoyed it's sexy expansion. And trembling with lust he imagined to be under the table and watching her walk slowly upon it, leaving wet foot prints nearly three times as long as him. He easily could fit across under the ball of the foot as some kind of gel-wear. Many business women used that stuff in high heeled pumps. But further comfort wasn’t the main destiny of his goddess. This beautiful redhead was in need for hygienic care. And his nose could sing a song about how badly she needed it!

Shaking off this thoughts he watched her remove a massive insole. It was strongly angled because of the fife inch high heel and contained the mentioned pocket. He saw the outlines of a humanly shaped cavern, seemingly deep enough to absorb 70% of the body and hidden under a sheet of leather printed like every shoe sole, with the name of the designer and the size. Nothing showed off that it was created for men, except of the name “Jenny Choo”. Everyone knew, Mrs Choo was a Japanese shoe designer creating nothing but nice looking high heeled torture chambers!

The entrance to his “sleeping bag” was a small opening, meant for his face to peer out. Nothing else would touch her skin, because this was sold as the most hygienic way to use living products.

In such a save cavern even a simply shrunken man could survive two or thee days. But this man had to shit and piss. And to prevent this the expertly shrinking of men generated product like states. At last the natural needs were cut down to breathing or rather smelling.

Minutes later he saw the world as often imagined, being nothing but a human shaped embossment in the middle of a gray leather surface. Only his face was uncovered, surrounded by big toe imprints. But in his dreams the women danced to his tune and he smelled nothing but his bedsheets. Bryan felt overwhelmed in more than one way, what made the whole situation priceless sexy. He was ripe for it, may it cost his worthless life!

While the classy redhead installed the other guy he rolled his eyes, watching both women. His sister, sitting at the table’s opposite, watched him as well, smiling and drinking wine. She blinked and said: “Believe her! A day at the mall is the worst experience of all. Before we get tired, you’re 'literally' gassed. I also don’t know how much you endure.

You have been the best brother a girl can have. Now be assiduous to become the insole my friend’s gassy foot requires. Bye sweetheart!” And with these words Bryan irrevocably was banned from the world of human beings. His sister gave him her blessing!

He watched both women as if they were aliens. And what they did was alien-like too. Heather handed Laura a flat box full of rolled up men coated with chocolate. These pralines were another kind of slaves, frail enough to dissolve on female tongues as fast as their cover. And because they tasted much better when filled with fear, every comfit had little holes for the eyes. So they could watch the slimy gullets, wavy tongues and white molars ready to slash and bruise sweet flesh.

Laura grasped one, held him close to her full red lips and said jokingly: “To enjoy these sweets you really don't have to become a heartless woman. Once tasted you want to have men three times a day. Mostly I take them as ingredients for roulades, cordon bleu or a turkey. They have the pleasant ability to stay fresh until you bite on them.”

When these days women spoke of fresh meat or spice, they unmistakably meant living flesh. Cold corpses, if at all, vanished between the black or dark red lips of sexy gothic girls.

Showing a warm smile Laura stuck out her puissant tongue, much bigger than the young fellow. With a throaty “aaah” she shoved him slowly in, let her teeth slam shut and began to suck. Closing her eyes she enjoyed the creamy chocolate mixed with his also melting skin. The more her enzymes broke him down, the more toothsome he went. And at least, as she pressed him against the roof of her mouth, he spat out a little of the honey his whole digestive system contained. And immediately a thundering “Mmmm” penetrated his ears.

Now Laura couldn’t withstand any longer. Coarsely she shovelled her morsel between the molars and began to chew in a common way. With ease the colossal rows of teeth milled his flesh and fine bones until he was syrup like and ready to be washed away with the tons of saliva floating her mouth.

Smiling she licked her lips several times and said: “Bravo, little man, you did know how to please a woman!”

Then she listened to the grumbling of her stomach, watched the other candies and spoke: “Can you hear? Your friend is doing well inside. He acts as an appetizer, preparing my stomach for you. Grown women have plenty of room for delicious boys!” Albeit not seeing their faces she addressed them right, because expensive pralines never were made of old men.

Instantly she devoured the next one and added slobbering: “You are the ultimate spice. I’m crazy for you!”

And on the table’s opposite Heather’s jaws were dancing to the same music. She also had full red lips to die for!

While nibbling and drinking wine the stronger sex was chatting about stuff like Bryan, candies and others. So Laura said: “Shortly a beloved friend of mine got in the same situation like your brother, becoming unemployed and impoverished. Thinking about the possibility to end as an insole was all but disgusting for him, because he too is a total foot fanatic. And that’s still minimised!

Though Marvin knows my little problem he truly was in hope to vanish in the darkness of my shoes. Even sweaty boots like these he called paradise. But he was legally obligated to visit the doctor first. And her referral for the authorities was to turn him into some luxury food like our sweetmeat.

Thousands of them mean nothing to me. But he does! I tried to assure the authorities that for my terrible toes he would be like medicine. But these bitches simply ignored me.

For him there’s only one chance to stay alive. He must make enough money to ransom himself. That’s why he volunteered for the evening show called 'Coffee Party'. It gives him at least a reprieve of one year. You know the show? Lots go in and only one comes out!”

Heather replied: “Yes, of course! Last year I tried to become an actor. But their main rule says, the protagonists have to be absolutely clueless.

Now tell me the truth! Do you really think of him as the right 'medicine' for your rancid feet? I think you overplayed a little to rescue him.”

Now upset Laura shouted: “I never lie! He often kneaded my soles and buried his nose in between my damp toes. It was the best therapy I ever got. And even for me it was sexy!”

The blonde nodded insightfully and immediately changed the topic. So the remaining boys overheard some more cruelties.

There were stories about bibulous men used as tampons or panty liners and bigger examples for sexual pleasures. Many men became slaves for nothing but keeping the shoes well shaped and to lick the warm insides right after their mistress put her tired feet out.

And in allusion to tired feet Heather begged: “Please, don’t waste the fresh air more than necessary! Today your feet are above-average cheesy. Well, smelling them isn't female labour, you know?” Her hint was directed on Bryan.

His near future was exactly what he dreamed of every night. But he knew, in an few minutes this dream would become shredded by reality. The strong toes wouldn’t make any difference between his face and the sheet of leather around it. And the beloved owner of these toes wouldn’t waste a single second of her precious time philosophizing about an insignificant item against foot odour. At last he would be nothing but one link of the endless chain of insoles a woman wears in lifetime, a non-durable good like the poor guys in his sister’s cage.

Hearing Laura apologize for airing her feet so long affronted his soul additionally. She felt sorry for her friend but not a whit for the two cheese filters. And the most abasing of all was to suffer unutterable for nothing but slightly fresher boots. Most likely she wouldn't even notice his labour!

What could he do? Shout at her? The almighty redhead would laugh at him or simply ignore him. She could decide to punish him by not washing her feet for two or more days. She also could try to drown him inside of a latex stocking. In either case he and his companion were doomed!

The men’s world went dark as Laura replaced her insoles. Now Bryan viewed a woman's boot from the other end and inspected once more the yet aslope part containing his legs. And a little bit above his feet he saw a common label and near the heel the European shoe size 38. Often he enjoyed the sight of high heels, dreaming of his present position. It always had been more sexy than porn movies and made him instantly stiff. But his favourite shoes weren't boots. He loved pumps with and without peep-toes, worn by one of these career women he feared while working at an office. Well, becoming the property of a stunning 25 years old doctor naturally was much better!

He had a throbbing hard-on for nearly two hours now and missed the ability to relieve himself. It was too embarrassing to jerk off in front of his sister and Laura. And now, surrounded by felt and a sheet of leather, he couldn't. So grew his eagerness to feel the 460 tons of the hot “steam roller” knead his dick. And at this point he realized once more, that a real giantess didn't dance to his tune. But having to wait, now and later in the shoe cabinet, was part of being footwear.

Minutes later he saw beefy toes enter his world. They came rapidly down, forcing a long nail in his stomach and lifting off a bit to change in a horizontal position. In an instant he felt the ball of the foot upon his whole torso and vanished in total darkness.

Usually this was the end of his wet dreams. But in reality it was the beginning of an endless nightmare. Laura wiggled her massive toes, stretched them forwards and pressed them possessively down on his face. The pungent smell drowned him like hot oil and easily found it's way even when he refused to breathe. The burning cheese crawled onto his tongue and further down the throat, creating a sticky bitter cream he had to swallow from time to time.

Shortly a side-effect occurred. His tongue became so swollen, that from now on he was forced to breath only through the nose. This made his life many times worse and a little better for the goddess, because the exhaled air was filtered twice.

Here, where it was dark, loud and stuffy, you easily could loose the reference to the beauty above, what lowered the sexual lust. But Bryan knew her long enough to beware himself from turning insane. He only needed to know, it was his Laura.

In the waiting room of the department where he got shrunken, one could hear several lurid tales. Allergy sufferers, for example, required completely rubber covered slaves with only two holes for the nostrils. They indeed could hear, but the voices were much to subdued to recognize anyone. So they never knew if the stomping foot belonged to an acquaintance or not.

The opposite of it was degrading as well. Those who showed up namely on the order list of a healthy woman had the delight to become long-lasting insoles adapted to her feet like customized shoes. But to be known mostly meant to know her as well. The lucky one vanished in the shoe of his girlfriend or wife. The less lucky one had to deal with a mean sibling. And the really doomed guy was forced to breathe the stink of his mother’s or grandmother’s calloused toes.

The second option almost became Bryans fate. Well, somehow Heather was right with her remark, that in the damp blackness of a shoe it would all be the same. But he thought otherwise. And now, after she was aware of him, it would have been less awful to get worn out by her. He could not even say that this hot tamper actually was Laura's foot!

When he was a child he often watched his sister's feet. Sometimes he crawled out of his bed at six o'clock in the morning, only to see her put on her pumps. She was almost grown, very sexy and at least the one who made him a fetishist. Now he began to be in doubt about his decision. Maybe it was his meaning of life to vanish in her nightclub pumps.

In an instant Bryan was torn out of his thoughts. He heard a rattling and felt fine vibrations finalize his deep position in life. The long zipper went along the well shaped leg and stopped above the knee, stretching the leather tight around her voluminous calf and separating him airtight from the world the real humans.

He knew, his presence didn't change her live. Right now she could put the boots in a time machine and send them twenty years back to her old dorm room. She would walk on him without any strange feelings. And her best friend borrowing the boot wouldn't feel him too.

His new world was extremely small, bordered by wet toes above and around the head, a heavy roller on his chin and a thick leather block underneath. He was surrounded by tons of expanding flesh and burning hot foot stink. The odour was everywhere and became more intense with every minute. It didn’t take long to build up the heat these boots contained when she arrived.

After Laura was done, she stretched her feet under the table and devoured more gently melting chocolates. Meanwhile, not visible to normal persons, she pressed her stretched toes even harder down and pumped alternately with the second and third one, working the small faces further in the sticky crevice between them. She surely was far away from being a professional slave user. Only her intuition told her how to boost their capacity. Cheesy dust was everywhere, but between the flanks, close to the creamy end of the toe crevice, thrived the strongest.

The redhead had in mind to kill two birds with one stone. She aspired the highest efficiency in the matter of odour eating and tried to kill Bryan as fast and painless as possible. She loved him too much to torture him longer than necessary.

One hour later the young doctor finally said goodbye and began to walk in a common manner. Her 460 tons womanhood not only stood on him. They slammed down on hard stairs and mauled the asphalted parking lot, clearly to be heard by everyone around the block because of the long stiletto heels.

And Bryan? Well, he did what he was made for and enjoyed it to mean nothing to her from now on. The nearly thirty years old man wasn’t dump and grasped, that Laura tried to finish him in just one day. First he relaxed all his muscles, but was too durable to get squashed. After that he tried to poison himself by sniffing as much as he could. But instead of killing him it made him indescribable horny. What he felt was beyond all expectations and not only a result of his fetishism. No wonder, because he was bathing in the pheromones of a clinker-blond bombshell like Eve Ellis.

The first orgasm came closer from minute to minute, exploded hard and showed no intention to subside any time. This effect was public and highly desired, because it forced the slave to breathe as fast as he could. That’s why foot guys like him were the best suckers a woman could get.

Feeling a light breeze between the second and third toes she smiled satisfied and jumped in her car. On the way home Laura decided to take advantage of the nice warm weather and stopped at a bistro near the university. There she had a cup of coffee while sunbathing her black boots and playing teasingly with the slimy faces inside.

With a smirk she said to herself: “For such cheap fittings it must be a great honour being allowed to drink my sweet foot sweat. By the way, it can do no harm to tread the new stuff thoroughly in shape.”

Looking down the city park with it's methodically arranged paths, bridges, runnels and lakes she couldn’t withstand the urge for a pleasant walk, enjoying the now fresher evening air. And while slowly setting one foot before the other Laura shook her head: “Actually it doesn't make any sense to waste good stuff absently fast!”

She was right, because even on her highest heels her feet felt comfortable. She walked save and well balanced as if wearing twins. And so it went late until the insoles got “fresh air” too.

– One year later –

It was one of the hottest summer days. The air flickered above the pavements and everywhere you could see female students showing off their nice feet in sandals and flip-flops. From time to time Laura wore these shoes too, but mostly her lust for boots was stronger than sanity.

The now 26 years old physicist climbed wide stairs, walked trough big halls and finally settled down on a wooden stool. Looking around she saw well dressed girls, partly of her age but far away from being a doctor.

Well, Laura didn't act like a student for learning something. She only had in mind to visit her old friend. Unknown circumstances caused that both hadn’t met for nearly one year, maybe because of Brian. He was her first victim and somehow responsible for stupid qualms women shouldn’t have.

Downstairs was that blond professor in all her glory. With her glasses and high heels she looked respect demanding and ladylike as ever. And she was busy as ever; speaking, walking and writing at the same time.

Albeit being a stately woman herself Laura silently imagined to be caught in one of her friend's black stiletto pumps, feeling her stand on tiptoes to reach the top of the blackboard. She tried to figure out what Heather's insoles had to endure right now and went aroused by doing it.

For women such thoughts were absolutely unusual, because only men dreamed of becoming an insoles! Erstwhile she thought as realistic as all women, considering their fate as normal as the fate of tissues. But she became more and more inquisitive, because at least these things have been human beings. Well, all of this shouldn't mean that Laura turned into a do-gooder. Of course not! She only became a little nosy.

An hour later she walked down to Heather who asked, if her brother had been at least satisfying. So the young doctor said: “Satisfying isn’t the right word. Bryan was a gorgeous odour eater and a warm companion while hiking in deep snow. Even today he’s working flawless. Once you really should try him out.”

Heather, meanwhile also a scientist in the matter of shrinking people, couldn’t believe it and wanted to inspect him immediately down in her lab. In a mocking way she said: “I remember you saying to leave him in these black over-knee boots and to make it as easy as possible. And now you wear white bootees. Can it bee that he turned into something like a lover!”

Shaking her head Laura replied sternly: “I’m not a stupid kid talking to stuff! If not visiting you, I surely wouldn't call him by his name.

At home he’s on par with common foot care products. His tongue, for example, has the right size to clean out my nails. But his body also fits perfectly in my cunt. Because of the fact, that under other circumstances he would be my husband, I enjoy him as a sex toy too. Who can blame it?

Since I became aware of his extreme durability I naturally wore him in different shoes to use him to full capacity. Even my slippers and shower sandals are prepared.”

Watching Lauras ladylike finger nails the professor mentioned that his tongue must be longer than his head. So the redhead replied bitchy: “I don’t speak about these nails!”

In the lab Heather began to inspect her brother by putting him into a tomograph designed for shrinks. And watching the monitor she shook her head, saying: “It’s astonishing that he at all became footwear. Look here! Low fat, many minerals and vitamins, enzymes against cholesterol and much dietary fibre. And the hydrocarbon compounds points out that he would suite the female taste very well. With these values he could be a nourishing snack you'd remember several days!”

Suddenly she detected a different chemical. Pointing at it’s peak she said: “In spite of finding this compound nowhere else but between female toes, he definitely couldn’t get it by swallowing or inhaling your perspiration. He must contain it since birth time! And that could be an answer for surviving so long in your boots. This chemical is responsible for the concisely smell of female feet and to tiny men normally pure poison. But seemingly not to him, because the whole sexual centre of his brain is full oft it.

I immediately have to search the internet for similar cases. Maybe we can find a second one for you. OK?”

Nodding Laura replied: “YES! And meanwhile I’m childish enough to grant your brother a long rest at the fresh air. I think, he deserves it.”

Hearing this the professor harshly said: “Forget about that! You remember, offering me a try? Since my right insole didn’t survive the last class, I’m forced to substitute it immediately. And by the way I can see how well bred he is.”

While the Celt began to smile evilly, her property was afflicted with a mixture of arousal, fear and shame. The last named was his biggest problem, though for his sister he wasn’t a creature, let alone a man.

Like uncountable articles before he quickly vanished in one of her black pumps and went flat under a pounding roller which was in fact twenty pound lighter but noticeable harder. Her slender feet normally smelled less spicy than Laura’s. But it was hot outside and very sultry inside the building. And she also was working for six hours now, what made the air in her shoes extremely muggy. No question, the lady had usage for him!

Now standing on him the tall blonde: “Until closing time I have three more classes and afterwards a dinner date in the city. Then the super sole is yours again. See you later!”

Immediately she climbed the stairs and walked back to the lecture hall. Wearing her once beloved brother didn’t change the female pace. She stomped her slender heels and hard soles down on the stone floor like ever, strolled in front of the blackboard the whole time and stood again on tiptoes while writing the first lines. Her strong toes were hard to bear in every aspect.

So the hours went by. From time to time she pressed the middle of her soppy toes down, forcing the little faces between their massive flanks. This caused immense pain and opened mouths operating like tiny drains.

Heather didn’t think about her slaves while doing so. She only followed a long-time practice which was all but innocuous. Most of her utensils died long before they were saturated with foot cheese. They literally drowned!

*

After the mentioned dinner date Heather drove off to her friend’s house, because they arranged to watch the show together. The reprieve of Laura’s erstwhile lover was over now and so he had to play for his live.

The redhead immediately but her stinky slave in a sock and filled the washing machine with dirty underwear. One and a half hours later Brian went in the dryer and then, lucky not to be ironed too, he was released.

The girls filled two glasses with claret and curled up on the couch. In front of them sat the exhaust brother. He was surrounded by giant bowls filled up with chips, flips, peanuts and naked fellows half his size. But they didn’t catch his eyes at the moment. After an eternity since his enslavement he was allowed to feel as a normal human being again. There were many things he missed badly – trivial things like watching TV.

But what happened with the others? His today’s companion in Heather’s left stiletto and the other one in Laura’s white bootee weren’t around. Was their time over?

Well, yes! After the past hot days their somatic cells had been saturated enough to turn them pale yellow, what was enough to be called worn out. And without further ado the dank stuff became fed to Laura’s garbage chute. From the women’s view these cheap things were not worth the risk to walk on corpses. They seldom depleted them completely.

Right now the TV show started. First an attractive blonde moderator greeted the visitors at home and pointed to a board with fourteen male names – the candidates. Laura’s friend was one of them.

Now followed a short film showing the prearrangements, done by a pretty young pastry chief. The candidates, all about one inch tall and bathing in lemon juice, vanished one by one in small tubes made of sugar icing and were dunked in chocolate several times. After cooling they looked like rod shaped pralines, only to distinguish from the other candies by three tiny holes for the eyes and the nose. Who wasn’t involved didn’t notice any difference.

The volunteering confectioner, a sixteen years old apprentice, mixed them with normal sweets and but all in a flat bowl. Looking straight in the camera she pushed up her thumb and teasingly licked her luscious red lips. Her childish smile showed uncommon pointy canine teeth. Was she a vampire?

The not much older moderator shook her head, saying: “This was our Suzi, an incorrigible gourmet from Felarya. First we had twenty candidates.

Tonight again one man has the chance to get enough money for a carefree life. That’s because every woman knows the unwritten law to spare the last morsel for their hostess. And as always we invited clueless women from the mall.

The party is running right now and in a few minutes our entertainer brings the bowl in. Hidden cameras will give close-up views, so you can watch your friends, husbands, bothers or sons disappear in classy ladies mouths. There’s nothing to worry about. Suzi took care for an unforgettable flavour. And when it's over we’ll see, if the last stick is filled with nougat, brittle or the best of all.”

The following thirty minutes weren’t much interesting for uninvolved people. It was a sitcom with dump gaggle. But Bryan somehow felt affected and watched intensely. In the lab he became reduced to something containing all a female body needed. His sister spoke of him as if his personality meant nothing. And because of the fact that it happened right before lunchtime, her words were verified by two growling stomachs. In these minutes he could feel how his sight magnified their hunger.

Not less thrilling was that fabulous confectioner. Bryan, who once read the comics Felarya, never considered it to be true. But it seemingly was. From now on he was mauled by a second fetish – a deadly one.

The other person watching nervously was Laura. One of the candidates was a man she really loved. Heather, on the other hand, didn’t like to watch women eating. She snatched the biggest bowl, leaned back and enjoyed tiny men herself. So Bryan got a more thrilling show by looking in the opposite direction.

Eventually on TV only one piece was left. As always at this point the ladies were told about everything. Some acted shocked, while others found it funny to be in the public eye. They all got presents with the logo of the show on it.

Meanwhile the beautiful hostess watched the camera. She held the bowl in one hand and said: “This time we have a winner. The candy truly is filled with a man. Congratulation tiny one!” And after removing some of the chocolate the world saw Marvin's beaming face.

Then she took the chocolate-man between thumb and index finger, placed him on her outstretched tongue, gulped several times and replied: “I have to correct myself. This time we have had a winner! Well, men don’t belong in big mansions but in big stomachs. And hereby I give back to the studio – burp...” The lovely entertainer giggled and said: “Sorry, she's from Felarya too!”

Laura became very angry now. Shouting she grasped a hand full from Heather’s bowl and began to swallow them like pills, washing them down with wine. Gradually slowing down she sobbed: “Maybe it was his destiny to get digested alive. But surely not by that bitch!”

At this moment something interesting happened. Six small fugitives showed up on the table and assembled in front of her glass. Bowing down they apologized for fleeing and offered themselves as a sacrifice to appease their beloved Celtic goddess. They knew what they were born for and now felt ready to dissolve inside her likeable round belly.

The almighty redhead began to smile warmly and helped them climb into her glass, what apparently was their destination. Reddened by shame they swam in wine and watched her full lips engulf the bezel. The soft bulges touched the rim without loosing a bit of the dark red gloss, and then they opened wide, showing flawless white teeth in front of a sexy hard palate. With every second the randy morsels longed more for hugging her shiny molars. And with every sip one slipped into the gargantuan cavern.

Laura tasted them as sensual as never before but didn’t chew. She didn't even bite on those fucking her lower wisdom teeth, because this evening invariably all slid down the esophagus alive. And that was a very hard punishment!

Bryan owned a hurting hard-on. And turning around didn't make it easier because of his teasing imaginations. He wished to release himself by touching the tip of the cock. But his limbs, the feeble limbs of an insole, were nearly useless. Anyhow he though exploded as the visual stimulations became too intense. And as always since becoming footwear it was a long lasting release without ejaculation.

Watching his mistress eat chips and other oily stuff feared him because of her weight. She always had been a little chubby and was now up to 150 pounds. But it also made her soles snugly soft, though the fatter toes left less room for his face. The opposite he met this day in his sister's business shoe. And weighting up both, he preferred suffocating smooth toes.

Later in the evening a drunken Laura stumbled towards the toilet, making unsavoury noises. And as she came back she sang analogue to an old song by Meat Loaf “everything is vomited”. Leaning against the door frame she watched Bryan and said: “Wanna see? I haven’t flushed yet.”

Not waiting for an answer Laura snatched him from the table to show him the stuff of his future nightmares. It was an old style toilet with an even porcelain ground. The red wine sprinkled around looked like blood. And it was mixed with half digested chips, flips and bodies. He saw hands, feet, partly skeletonized heads and open rib cages filled with already melting innards. Even the bones were partly liquified.

Bryan knew, these men went down the hatch alive. The most cruel way to die! Fortunately the taste of his sex made the gastric acid of women extra sharp, what once more proved their predominance.

Back in the living room he became nosy and asked for the backgrounds of this kind of cannibalism. So he got a private lecture based on the newest archaeological findings.

In the beginning men were dumb hunters and gatherers while women lived separated from them in astoundingly modern hamlets. From time to time they became hunters too, adding some flesh to their mostly vegetarian menu. But they not only caught animals. They also caught men and fucked them, until the first snow fell down.

Now the inventory went narrow. So from time to time one of their sperm donors had to swallow a spit. It was rammed trough their intestines and out the anus. And long before they died, they rotated spicy flavoured above the fire. When someone survived the whole winter, he was allowed to go away. But most of them preferred to stay and get fucked a second year.

Smiling Laura added: “Digesting men as fast and efficient as possible is a holdover of this time. You see, it isn’t a new design of mother nature. Guys are destined to be our food. Only the female taste has changed. Erstwhile they were the main dish. Today they are tiny nibbles or merely condiments like salt and pepper. Watch me!”

Smirking she grasped a big potato chip and placed one shivering slave on it. Pointing at the chip she said “food”, and pointing at the youth above she said “spice”. Then she shoved the morsel in her friends waiting mouth and began to laugh.

Heather masticated the poor thing with three strokes, gulped rapidly, licked the salt from her lips and smacked teasingly. “Very spicy!”

Then she added: “Well, brother, it may sound unbelievable that the worldwide portion of male foot-wear is only one per mill. But when you look at a common woman like me it’s a simple calculation.

Per week I need roundabout two thousand bite-sized men for a balanced diet, but only two or four standard insoles, albeit my high heeled pumps are true gas-chambers. And compared to others I’m modest. The seventeen years old daughter of my neighbour devours much more.”

Reconsidering the last Bryan saw himself forced to push up the amounts of victims by thinking of pregnant women and growing kids.

Now Laura switched off the TV. Meanwhile Heather brought the bowls into the kitchen, eating the last three teenagers underway. Then she laid down on the couch and the redhead fell into her bed.

What about Bryan? Well, in foresight of a flight after the day's humiliations Laura put him in one of her old mouldy over-knee boots, harshly commanding to lick the sole clean. He loved these boot, because they didn't smell simply like used shoes. They smelled extremely feminine! Her scent was everywhere and overpowering his own scent with ease.

This night he had some hours to think about the meaning of his sex. Maybe it was only a mistake of mother nature that men became more intelligent than cattle.

He found no time to sleep due to the thrilling conversation. In his mind he now was part of the crowds his sister devoured weekly, standing in front of a gigantic pan with boiling oil. She filled in breaded bodies, making golden men-nuggets with chip potatoes. Then both women savoured their lunch, munching like ogres and pumping amounts of his comrades down the esophagus. And later, as the salad was eaten too, he advanced towards Laura’s flawless white molars to be used as a chewing gum.

Thereafter he was sitting atop the big potato chip Laura put on her friend's tongue. And as a piece of spice between salt and sweet pepper as big as bricks nobody could see him. So his sister's lips were as wide as an aircraft-carrier, and the open mouth sent a hot storm over the yellow landscape.

Then the ground began to burst. He flew through the moist air, vanished between gargantuan taste-buds and was washed away by tons of saliva.

In the morning he felt too exhaust for his main duty. But instead of being forced to freshen cheesy toes he vanished in Heather's handbag. And one hour later he tumbled in a cage standing in her laboratory.

There he had nothing to do but relaxing and watching his sister’s experiments when she wasn’t upstairs in the lecture halls.

He saw her devour brought along sandwiches filled with salad, tomatoes and juicy men. One rest period later she teased his libido by eating a chocolate bar filled with a sweet guy his size. And as long as she wasn’t eating anything or anyone, his eyes were clued to her sexy clicking pumps.

For someone like him, forced to see nothing but the inner walls of shoes, one year was a very long time. So sitting in this cage and having plenty of fresh air was already like vacation. In truth it was the literal calm before the storm!

From time to time he heard the blond bombshell shout about the low quality of common slaves, what meant, that again one of his buddies died amidst the day. It angered her, because the high heels she wore were designed especially for living shock cushions and absolutely useless without. So she again searched the internet for individuals like him, this time for her own feet too.

Bryan could call each day a lucky one, because his sister’s handbag always contained enough replacements. But more and more he longed for his beloved Goddess. Now he felt ready to become a permanent part of a shoe sole, even if it meant to disappear from the face of the earth forever. And depending on the kind of footwear he maybe would never ever see sunlight.

– Fife days later –

A young man was sent to the university. Heather opened the padded envelope and instantly scanned his body for the chemical. And there it was, right in the sexual centre of his brain. He was the same natural born foot guy like her stupid brother!

Not wasting a single second she came to the point and said: “From now on you are the left insole for my friend’s shoes. She needs you very bad because of her foible for high heeled boots. But the boots aren’t the only reason for her skin burning cheesy feet. It's because there are individuals like you. And when someone is born for something, there logically must be someone who needs him. Can you dig it?

Well, today you'll meet the one and only reason of your existence. She's a 26 years old academic of this university.”

The tiny man, not knowing why he got caught and treated like a cheap thing, went pale. He wasn’t even half the professor's age, but erudite enough to know he couldn’t do anything against it.

Heather, on the other side, didn’t want to show up completely heartless, because this item wasn't one from any discounter. It was a spotless young citizen doing nothing wrong. So she told him how beautiful her friend looked, as if it could be a help.

He was out of school right now, on his best way to become a student and had a beautiful teenage girlfriend. And all this should be over now, because of the whim of a doctor called Laura? Apparently yes!

Ten minutes after the long awaited phone call she jumped down the stairs to the lab. She did not have to work these days and came straight from the mall, clothed in blue jeans, a white t-shirt and brand new leather boots.

Watching her white face, green eyes and red mane the small man’s eyes nearly jumped out of his head. He definitely was like Brian, absolutely powerless in front of a stunning redhead with child-bearing wide hips. His youth girlfriend at home never could compare with her!

And though he also was a fanatic foot guy, the sight of boots with fife inch high heels and crossing laces ending at the firm upper tights decelerated his enthusiasm. He overheard where she came from. And watching the digital clock on the wall showing 15:25 he could figure out how long she must have been walking in the scorching heat.

Laura friendly greeted him and Bryan, who stood with some others in the cage. Sitting down she began to loosen the long laces and spoke: “Somehow I got a feeling that today's my day. Perfect timing! And because these special fittings seemingly last several years, I decided to install them proper, alike a sheet of moose rubber lining the insole. Basically you'd need nothing but two small holes for their nostrils.

Meanwhile I found out, that durable items like these aren’t as rare as we thought. There are already matching shoes like these brand new over-knee boots I bought yesterday.”

Hearing this Bryan screamed at the top of his voice: “You speak about several years, maybe decades in one and the same muggy darkness! That’s worse than death!” And Heather snappily blared: “Who the fuck pulled your chain?”

Calming the situation Laura said: “Well, let him go one last time, because in some years his vocal cords will be cauterized. And maybe the speech area of his brain gets erased too. Once I read, the toe fume of an attractive lady can devour all their personality. At least they are reduced to nothing but breathing bodies. I can’t think about anything more useful!”

The new Slave and Bryan as well nearly shit their pants. This time the great love of his first live meant what she said.

She unwrapped muffling gray woolen stockings and banished them immediately in a stink-tight plastic bag. And making things worse, her exquisite toes, glamorized by dark red nail polish, weren't naked yet. She wore old-fashioned nylons with thick brownish reinforcements. The look wasn’t much different to average housewives and showed unadorned, that she was a mature woman – at least to the newcomer. And in some years? Well, the shrinking stopped the ageing process. So in four years Bryan and she would become the same age.

These boots also were equipped with removable insoles, looking like common inserts made of thick foam and a leather layer. But they had no separations for slaves. This way the customers got the latitude to wear them across under the balls of their feet, as heel cushions or otherwise. Laura was pretty satisfied with the conventional position.

She grasped a scalpel and began with the opening for the face, using a provided template. Like before the nose should be doomed to suffer inside the second toe crevice where the vapour became as pungent as rotten cheese. So the mentioned two holes for the nostrils never were an option, because for an efficient smell-absorption it was essential to let a third or more of the head glide between the flanks during the rolling motion.

When the main position was set, she worked the hard foam rubber and kneaded her slaves in narrow recesses until their faces protruded three or four millimetres from the leather surface. Then she filled the cavern with glue surrounding the body. And as it got the consistency of moose rubber the men were sealed in for the rest of their lives – the most feared ending!

On the top layer made of soft white nappa leather you could see outlines of bodies with arms and legs; the common look of fresh insoles. But in regard to her 150 pounds it was only a matter of time to erase these last remainders of the human beings. Then the only difference to old-fashion insoles would be fearful faces, visible in sandals. But these articles belonged to high heeled over-knee boots which not even owned a gaping zipper. In there it was pitch black 24 hours a day!

Now the clinker-blond Lady could replace them. But she hesitated because of the fact, that the left one contained a youth who didn’t really understand what happened. His enslavement definitely went a bit too fast.

Laura had the heart at the right place and couldn't deny doing something wrong. At least she should introduce him as thrilling as Bryan since there was no way back now. So she positioned both insoles on the floor in front of her chair, lifted the left foot and stretched her massive toes over the newcomer. Then she grasped a pencil, pointed at the red skin between her third an fourth toe and said sternly: “This happens, when less filtrated fume turns into athlete's foot. If this happens again, it's only your fault!

Well, even on good days my feet have a slightly scent of cheese. It's erotic for lovers but suffocating for you. And when I speak of good days, I mean days at the beach, when I wear flip-flops. In high heeled sandals, even without nylon stockings, the stink becomes thousand times worse.

As you can see, I'm a little overweight. But that’s not disadvantageous for your task, because so your face slides easier between my thick toes. I know, you adore female feet. You have to, because the sexual centre of your brain contains the same disgusting stuff my toes produce. And that's the reason why you're no longer a human being both to my own and every other woman on this planet!”

Now Laura pointed at the narrow second toe crevice, moved the pencil back to the ball of her foot and said: “It's necessary to force your nose as deep as possible in this gap. Why especially this one? It’s nearly the centre of the foot and the best alternative between save walking and fresh toes.

Now that this is cleared there are only three rules to tell. Don’t move, scream or tickle. Tickling the foot of a lady is a serious crime! The smell sucking works automatically, especially in these boots. Any questions?”

The teen was as speechless as her friend one year ago, and she took it as an agreement in all points. Only Bryan had something more to say. He begged to take off these “grandma stockings”, what caused her to laugh. But she did it and exposed the glory of her smooth white toes. It was priceless to watch them become ages younger!

An expression of fear was the last to be seen as both men vanished in the eternal darkness of her fashion boots. And only fife minutes later the long laces were sealed tight, stretching the leather tight around feminine voluptuous calves.

Laura stood up, walked around, knelt down several times to stretch the new material and said: “I’m perfectly happy! With that stuff you can wear high heels the whole day through. Now I should walk some hours to tread them in shape. See you later in the disco, bye!”

While the footwear suffered like hell, in the outside world everything was the same as always. The men in the cages saw a beautiful redhead wearing dressy boots. And her movements up the stairs as well as the feminine snappy stride along the pavements told nobody anything about the kind of insoles she wore.

Knowing her very well Bryan saw his worst nightmare realised. Not a single light beam found it's way to his eyes as well as the cheese didn't find it's way out of the shoe. There always was a layer of suffocating fog above his face. In the mornings he heard her foot scratch along the rough texture of the lining, felt 570 tons womanhood on his body and thundered over different floors.

It seemingly would be the same every day until he dies. But this lady had a joyful surprise in petto. Her insoles were part of a new system and could be linked to different shoes with fife inch heels. Actually she owned matching pumps and even sandals, because now he should last as long as possible.

THE END