Too groggy with lust and excitement to process how long Heather had apparently planned this odd event, Jason curled himself around the woman’s proffered thumb. It was all he could do to keep from humping and thrusting against the stiff form of it, but he gritted his teeth. No matter how far he’d gone with the neighbor now, he had to maintain some modicum of respect.

            “Just hold tight,” Heather instructed. She lowered her thumb back into her palm, and then over the heel of her hand, Jason could see the PMRD gripped in her fist. He closed his eyes just in time for the flash of emerald, then sunk down in a billowing puff of fabric.

            She’d shrunken him, one last time, but not his pants or underwear. The boy chanced one gawking glance around the space and was glad to have so much surrounding palm flesh as protection, because he was now smaller than ever. Jason was left completely naked in Heather’s palm at half an inch tall: less than the length of her fingernail.

            With precious attention, the pads of Heather’s thumb and index finger arrived at Jason’s sides again. At this scale, he could sincerely appreciate the artistry of her thumprint’s sworl as it hugged into his body. He was only vaguely aware of how easy it would be for her to pinch and snap him.

            Unlike the last reduction, though, Jason no longer felt fear. Arousal had long ago trumped self-preservation, and he wouldn’t have trusted anyone on earth more than Heather Goodman to pick him up in such vulnerable state.

            The boy again resisted the urge to thrust his hips, even as the broad curve of Heather’s thumb was pressed into his lower torso, gently pinning his hard-on against his waist. He moaned, meekly, silently begging for a release.

            “Another few seconds, hon. Just bear with me,” Heather promised in answer to the trinket-sized naked boy in her fingertips. Her warm breath wafted between the peachy vice of her citadel-like digits around his body. Down below, just in Jason’s limited view, Heather’s left foot neared.

            Gargantuan. Titanic. Jason just didn’t have the words to describe the all-consuming wall and mass of it. It was something like seeing a jetliner for the first time. A veritable atlas of blanched wrinkles and pink creases awaited below as Heather slid Jason toward the front of her fingers, facing him directly toward the oncoming bulwark of her lovely sole.

            With such grace Jason scarcely believed it was possible, his body was pressed into the woman’s bare, powerful heel, and then glided up the hill towards her toes. He was stroked and swabbed by the immaculate landscape of Heather’s sole, elegantly molding at every millimeter into the doughy floor. Every sexily tortuous second that passed, Jason was sure he’d explode.

            “Not yet, hon, not yet,” Heather commanded in the sweetest tone imaginable. “Here comes the trick I learned, just for you. Hold on a little longer.”

            The globe-like bulb of her meaty big toe arched, then parted ways with its secondary, slender neighbor. Tender flesh and easy dampness welcomed Jason’s twitching body as he penetrated the toe crevice. With the same care she’d used to scoop him up, Heather’s massive digits, each of which now outsized Jason, lovingly clamped around his hips.

            Then, with the woman’s polished fingertip poised at Jason’s back, her digits began to pump. In full force, her two toes jerked and flexed around the boy’s body, teasingly constricting him with such care that he was literally masturbated by a lightly greased toe crevice and raw talent.

            It was a miracle Jason had even made it this far. He shuddered and moaned passionately, bucking one last time into Heather’s soft toe flesh, and came. After roughly an hour of blue-balling prior, the experience left him drained and limp as wet paper. Helpfully, to the tune of her adoring, amused chuckles, Heather’s fingers fished into her elegant toe crevice to recollect her living toy.

            “I’d say that puts us just about even now, little guy,” she whispered tauntingly, her face and luscious hair framed by the light above in an appropriate halo. “Wouldn’t you say?”

            Thirty minutes later, Jason was returned to his full height of five-foot-five and cleaned up in the guest room shower upstairs. As he pulled his pants and shirt back on, which of course had to be regrown from their varying stages of abandonment during Heather’s games, he couldn’t help but come to a strange realization.

            His body, though shocked at first, had actually become startlingly calibrated to the experience of being shrunken under his gorgeous amazon of a neighbor’s whims. Moving about now in the stylish upstairs hall of Heather Goodman’s loaded residence, he almost had to remind himself how to carry his regained mass and stature. Where once he’d spend nights begging the biology gods to grant him just a few more inches in height, right now, he felt large. Almost too large.

            “I almost forgot,” Heather said with a wink as she met her hired mover down in the foyer at the base of the staircase. She handed him a wadded envelope containing cash. “This is for the portion of your work earlier carrying my furniture, and nothing more. This isn’t a brothel, after all, Jason.”

            “I didn’t think it was, Ms…. I mean, Heather.”

            “Don’t worry, sooner or later we’ll get that name straight in your head. I’ll just settle for you calling me Ms. instead of Mrs. for the time being. Much better.”

            “I… I, um… don’t really know… what to…”

            “No need to fret, hon. I won’t make this awkward for you. Let’s just say… I appreciated your company this afternoon, and leave it there for today,” Heather said seductively, looking down upon the sputtering young man. She reached out and gave his hair another playful ruffle which then lingered into a teasing massage. Her hand traced down the side of his face and came to rest on his cheek, which she cupped and tipped upward a few inches to ensure he stared straight up at her.

            “That… sounds fair to me,” Jason said. He gulped hard and tried to hew the sensation of her hand on his face into memory. “Thank you.”

            “It’s my pleasure, Jason,” Heather promised. Arm cuddled around his shoulders, she guided the young man to the front door and opened it. “Just keep in mind, for… future reference, when next the occasion arises. I always repay good work done for me, in whatever ways it deserves. Always.”

            To drive the point home, just when she knew he was looking, Heather arched her creamy, muscular sole down against the floor at a dizzying angle.

            As Jason marched down the winding path toward the street, his stunning, sky-high neighbor and secret confidante winked. Those hazel-green eyes nearly melted him into the sidewalk.