Scott gritted his teeth as he felt his muscles straining against the tightly squeezing pressure of his mother’s stocking-stretched toes caving down on him.  The warmth of her skin, stagnant-smelling already from half a day of walking around, captured like a vile plague in the fabric of the stocking, spread itself over every corner of the shoe’s baking interior.

                He tried not to cough out his last gasp of air as his mother’s third toe mashed itself into his stomach like an industrial piston and settled in comfortably down on him, restricting his airflow severely.

                They were just going to “employ” his maintenance services, Judy had said.

                Knowing his mother, she would be employing his maintenance services the same way that an alcoholic employed cheap beer.

                “How about it, Kyle?” Judy continued, clearing her throat and finally letting up the increased pressure on her warm toes, which allowed Scott a moment to breath normally again.  “Want some quality time with your brother?”

                “But you have to wear him in your shoe!” Maggie cackled gleefully.  “No!  In your sock.”

                Scott shuddered at the very notion of having yet another family member literally kick him around in a shoe, but felt relieved to hear his younger brother snort in abject disgust at Maggie’s commentary.

                “God, no.  What the crap is wrong with you?” Kyle sneered.  “I never got why you guys did that.  It would be like having a cockroach crawling all over your foot.”

                Scott felt mildly and oddly hurt by the latter half of Kyle’s answer that compared him to an insect, but it was easily outweighed by the teen’s opinion on Maggie and Judy’s favored hiding place for him.

                “Fine,” Maggie sighed.  “I just get all of his turns with our little brother, then, I guess.”

                “Now, Maggie,” Judy corrected slowly.  “Just because he’s going to be a lot shorter and weaker than you for the foreseeable future doesn’t make him your little brother, and I want you to treat him as such.  Okay?”

                “Whatever,” Maggie shrugged with feigned disinterest.  The heavy air of annoyance in her voice made it perfectly clear to Scott she was just trying to close out the conversation rather than actually acknowledge in any way, shape, or form that he was still her “big” brother. 

                Even at his normal size, Scott knew she hadn’t thought of him like that for a very long time.

                “Ah, here’s the shortcut back road.  It looks like they opened it up again after they cleared that tree away from the storm!” Judy noted with delight, turning the car slowly onto a rockier patch.  “This should let us shave at least five minutes off.”

                “Whoop-dee-doo,” Kyle muttered under his breath.

                “It’s about to get a little bumpier here, everyone,” Judy announced as the car began bouncing lightly along the gravelly road.  “Seatbelts on?”

                “Mom, you’re gonna make me sick,” Maggie droned with annoyance, leaning her head back against the seat and closing her eyes.  “And I’ve got practice in like an hour.  I don’t wanna puke in front of everyone.”

                “No need for melodrama, honey.  It’s only a few minutes, and we’ll get there faster.”

                “You’re probably gonna pulverize him on this road,” Kyle interjected, nodding his head in the direction of Judy’s shoe and its tiny occupant, but still not taking his eyes off his phone.

                “Oh.  Scott.  I almost forgot,” Judy gasped with a wince before leaning her face closer to the carpet again.  “Scott, sweetie?  Maybe you should hang on to my stocking so you don’t get rattled too much.”

                “This wouldn’t have happened if you had just let me put him in my shoe…” Maggie muttered, rolling her eyes.

                Sighing deeply, Scott knew it was in his best interests to take his mother’s advice, mostly because he remembered this road was particularly bumpy, but also for the simple reason that she had him curled underneath her warm toes so precariously to begin with.  He scrunched himself up and began shifting himself steadily under the still-omnipotent weight hanging above him.

                At least she had changed her mind about the shoes and transferred him to her left heel, rather than the one working the gas and brake pedals. 

                After making this optimistic observation, though, Scott had to stop and remind himself that there still wasn’t much to be thankful for here.

                Scott felt his mother’s meaty toes parting above his face through the stocking as much as the leathery interior of the heel would allow, which let a quick burst of cooler air into the shoe, intermingling with the pungent aroma of sweaty leather and lotion-lubed flesh. 

                Coughing under his breath, he gulped and bunched up as much of the taut stocking fabric into his hands as he could for support.  Finally, hating every movement involved, he hugged himself to it for better stability, just as the car really started bumping on the rocky road.

                The shortcut road took less than five minutes to drive through, although it felt like nearly triple that to Scott.  Each bounce of the road pressed his inch-tall body even harder up into his mother’s gargantuan toe.  His head felt like it was being lightly smashed into the center of the soft, greasy toe print.  Like Judy was leaving her signature on her little son’s face with each bounce in the road.

                On the downside of each bounce in the road, Scott was jammed harder down into the plush leather.  Judy either neglected to or didn’t seem to care about the weight of her toe down on her son, because without fail it came back down on Scott’s chest like a weighted beanbag chair.  If anything, the woman seemed to be scrunching her toe across Scott’s body harder with each bounce.

                On each impact, he’d wheeze with increasing volume, hoping Judy would get the hint, but no change was made.

                He dug his fingers into the tougher sides of stocking around the big toe, feeling residue of old sweat and fuzzy thread ends from recently worn nylons pressing into his palms and invading his body with their early summer stink.

                It wasn’t long before the scent had soaked itself thoroughly into his meager clothes, leaving a sticky coating up and down his body, practically making him one with his mother’s toes, and so Scott gave up for the remainder of the trip, keeping his arms wrapped uncomfortably tightly against his mother’s toe. 

                As the car finally pulled into the driveway and the sloped curb was hit by the tires, the strongest bounce of all was experienced.  Scott was pressed so hard into the softened underside of his mother’s scrunched toe that he felt his crotch bending at a painful angle through his pants against her stocking.  He let out a screech of pain that went mostly ignored, except for a raised eyebrow and a grin from Maggie in the backseat, who had been listening quite intently for any sound effects from Judy’s little passenger.

                “All right, everybody.  And especially Scott,” Judy smiled widely, putting the car in park and unlocking the doors.  “Welcome home.”