2 months later.

Tevid woke up as he always did. Packed into a rotten old boot with a stinky purple foot. The poor halfling struggled to remember a night not consumed by darkness, sweat and rancid foot odour. He had no idea whether or not Shazgob was awake or asleep, or if she even planned on sleeping in this morning. Funnily enough, he missed being back home. Sure, there he had to stomach his sister's feet, but even they were infinitely preferable to this nightmare.

The eventual scrunch of long, greasy toes around his noggin usually meant the ogress had awakened, though sometimes she was mean enough to torment her slave whilst being fast asleep. This morning was not the case thankfully and she soon pulled her feet free of those dastardly boots. Her hand dove in afterwards, finding Tevid with relative ease and fishing him out of the stink den. Sometimes the heat and pressure overnight would be enough to glue him to the bottom of her foot, which Shazgob never failed to find funny when it did occur.

“Rest well, little one?” Shazgob asked with a toothy grin. Before Tevid even got chance to answer the ogress yawned. During the night she would strip off and sleep in the nude, save for her footwear obviously. Perhaps the only somewhat arousing sight left in the halfling's life was because of this. It was difficult to deny that the monster had an athletic, curvy body by normal standards. If only she weren't huge, evil and horrendously stinky he might have actually found her attractive. These thoughts were muted when Shazgob spat a mouthful of smelly saliva onto Tevid's equally naked body before using him for a morning wash. But in ogress terms, a 'morning wash' was drastically different to what any civilised person would expect.

Shazgob used her sentient toy as a regular person would use a sponge, with lots of her thick saliva substituting for lotion. She had a lot of fun rubbing the fleshy, wet sponge along every inch of her skin, the dirt, oils and body sweat being transferred onto him. Every step of the way the ogress would ensure that his mouth was facing her skin, picking up dozens of awful, varied flavours along the way. She would take great care spending plenty of time on her shaven yet slimy armpits, scrubbing the tiny nude male into the soft, stubbly skin tainted with acrid armpit sweat.

The armpits weren't the only location on her body that Shazgob enjoyed 'washing' with new methods. A fresh glob of spit was applied to Tevid and she descended her body. Somewhat kindly, she would extend his time being mashed against her large breasts, knowing that they were one of the only parts of her body that her slave enjoyed. But what Shazgob liked doing more was robbing him of those huge breasts, taking him even further down. Placing his body between both palms, the ogress would insert his head into her bellybutton, rolling him between the palms like a spinning brush.

Not even bothering to protest any more, Tevid just groaned when Shazgob plucked his head from her bellybutton and took him lower still, to the worst part of the wash. Though by now, the halfling thought himself lucky that he wasn't simply relegated to a long day serving those foul feet again, the most disgusting part of the ogress' body by a long shot. Between her legs, Shazgob had grabbed him by his hands and feet and was whistling merrily as she flossed him between her legs, favouring the taint and ass over the slightly more attractive prospect of a long unwashed pussy. Her sponge became noticeably slicker after a couple swipes between her firm butt cheeks, being lubricated by the stash of slick sweat held there thanks to a nomadic lifestyle featuring a lot of walking. By the time Shazgob had finished washing, Tevid was breathless and exhausted by the rigorous experience, but the day was far from over for him.

“Breakfast time!” Shazgob informed her slave, uncaring that the sun was nearing its zenith. As usual, breakfast consisted of the leftover 'ogre mush' Shazgob had made last night and deposited into the boot where Tevid hadn't slept to be kept warm and flavoursome by her other sweaty foot. He didn't know exactly what Shazgob did to make the awful food, if it could be called food, but he had caught glimpses of her spitting into the bowl as she made it, emptying the puddles of foot sweat that frequently stagnated on the insoles of her boots, followed by actual edible ingredients like whatever vegetables and meat she had found the day before. Once the solids were mushed and combined into a gross, runny meal, the ogress would season the dish with ground up toenail clippings. Apparently it was an ogre delicacy. As the most abhorrent thing Tevid had ever consumed, he agreed wholeheartedly. If only his tormentor was willing to let him eat anything else. Over the course of a night in a boot the mixture thickened up and coated the insole, very little remained on Shazgob's foot in the morning though she would always lick it off herself.

So for Tevid to eat his breakfast, the ogress dropped him into the boot where the food was located, leaving him to his own devices whilst she got dressed and went off gallivanting barefooted outside of the cave she had made home as she waited for the arrival of her friends. Tevid began eating the ogre mush quickly, knowing that if it wasn't all gone by the time she returned there would be punishments. He wept as he ate, aware of the filth and stinky saliva that coated his body. The mush was further flavoured by the grime and foot gunk that accumulated naturally within the environment of the ogress' boot and having sampled freshly made ogre mush, he knew that this was the more potent meal.

Digging into the set, uncomfortably warm mush with his hands and scooping it into his mouth. Inevitably he picked up a good about of the foot waste that had been stomped into a blackened grime on the insole. Other than the lumps of foulness that collected on the edges of the insoles, the surface was slick from many years of absorbing sweat and this transferred a salty flavour to the mush, distinct from the sourness of the dark goop. If only he had been the same size as Shazgob, then this would have taken him under a couple minutes, amounting to one or two mouthfuls, but with the size discrepancy it took Tevid much longer. So long in fact that he heard loud footsteps signalling the return of an ogress.

“Shit!” He swore, speeding up his consumption of the vile excuse for food. He did not want the ogress to find him still eating. Though, it seemed like she had only just left. It wasn't fair for her to return so quickly, but in the time he'd known her she'd proven to be anything but fair. Hopefully the punishment would be somewhat merciful, is what he thought as he swallowed mouthful after mouthful of ogre mush that had been stomped and re-cooked by a massive, stinky foot. Strangely, no invasive, purple hand came to fish him out. Tevid thought he could hear a voice outside of the boot, but he wasn't sure. Regardless, he finished his breakfast in record time thanks to the apparently unrealised fear that Shazgob had come home early.

Rather than wait around here, constantly inhaling the strong aroma living with him inside the boot, Tevid chose to try and grab the attention of whoever had come into the cave. What could go wrong? If it was Shazgob, she could be testing his alertness to her presence. If it was anything else, there was potential to be rescued. Moving to the heel of the boot, Tevid stood upright and placed a hand on either side of the seemingly always moist surface and started rocking from side to side. He'd tried climbing out before, and it hadn't worked. Perhaps if he'd been a muscle-bound freak he'd have been able to climb up the shaft however the sweat stained sides were far too slick. Tipping the boot over might have been a plausible idea, but with how long it would take alongside the possibility of the ogress coming back at any moment the risk was too great for him. When he was desperate enough, he might attempt it. Knowing that something else was in the cave was enough for now. If it was the kind of wild animal that might tear him to shreds, the putrid odour leaking out of the boot should be enough to deter it from searching from tasty snacks within.

Tevid gasped when he felt the boot suddenly get lifted into the air. It had happened many times before during his time with Shazgob, but every time he'd been snugly lodged against her foot. He stumbled, not used to the sensation whilst actually standing and having room to move around. An even stranger sensation followed, the boot was being tipped. The shaft of the boot that had led upwards before soon faced the hard ground of the cave and the halfling came tumbling out, unable to get a grasp of the inside, and crashed onto the floor.

“Now, what do we have here?” A voice spoke. It wasn't Shazgob, he knew her voice, but it shared a lot of similarities. Cruelty for the most part, but this was hidden behind a softer, lighter tone than he was used to from the dominant purple ogress. Turning over onto his back, Tevid found himself being stared at by a crouching ogress, and though she was of about the same size and had a slightly pudgier body than Shazgob, the burnt orange skin and short, crimson red hair differentiated her from Tevid's tormentor. The expression on her face made this new ogress look dumber too, by comparison to the sharp, cunning face belonging to Shazgob. Also unlike Shazgob, she had only a single facial piercing: a golden nose ring on her left nostril.

A long, black fingernail poked at the halfling, jabbing at his stomach a couple times. Involuntarily, he let out a small giggle which brought a wide grin to the orange ogress. “Do you belong to Shazgob, little man? She did mention in her message that she had come across a new slave that was a blast to play with.”

Tevid nodded, slowly and shyly, not wanting to provoke Shazgob's friend to do anything disgusting with him. But asking an ogress to refrain from doing anything disgusting was like asking an alcoholic to quit drinking: unlikely to yield any results.

“Excellent! I want to see how well she's trained you. Assuming she left you in her boot whilst she went out for a walk, we should have some time yet before she comes back. So let's make that time count, shall we?”

Leaning against the wall of the cave, this new ogress shifted from her crouch to being seated by hefting her legs out from under her, laying them flat with the soles of her black boots facing Tevid. One a time her legs came back within reach of her hands where she would then tug off the boots, filling the cave with a fresh dose of foot odour. On her wide, orange feet the ogress had a pair of thick, woolen socks. How many sheep had been sheared to create those things? Regardless of the cost of materials, it was clear that she wore them excessively. A multitude of holes, tears and threadbare patches decorated the socks, exposing the sweaty, meaty flesh of the soles and a few of her pudgy toes. Perhaps the material had been white once, long ago, but now it was soiled due to absorbing copious amounts of foot sweat, turning to shades of dark grey or revolting yellow. Tevid struggled to his feet, which was quite challenging with a pair of massive, reeking, socked soles only a few steps away.

“Give me a massage, halfling. Use your entire body, I want to really feel it. You're more than welcome to throw in plenty of kisses too; in fact it is encouraged.” The ogress giggled as she gave her order.

For a moment, Tevid's eyes glanced at the cave entrance. He could run, flee from the giant feet presented to him. But Shazgob was out there, among the trees, hunting. Sure, maybe his short yet agile legs would be able to carry him out of the cave before the orange ogress managed to realise what was happening, get up and give chase. But with a pair of determined ogresses hunting him, there was a very slim chance of him escaping. Also from what Shazgob had told him with some of her seemingly endless verbal teases and taunts, a second friend of hers was also on her way.

Sighing, releasing the building rebellion as well as his breath, Tevid advanced over to the pair of big feet awaiting him. Laying his hands on the socked sole, he applied pressure, enough to provide a massage to the skin hidden behind the sock. As his fingers sunk into the material, stored up sweat was expunged from the fibres, spilling out and drenching his arms in the strongly scented liquid. At this point, having the foot sweat of an ogress on his skin was common for Tevid and though it still bothered him greatly, he'd become used to it enough to not retch at the sensation.

“Can you feel that?” He asked the owner of the foot who was spectating his ordeal with amusement. The last thing that he wanted was a disappointed ogress eager to dish out stinky punishment.

“Just about. Keep going, and don't forget kisses! In fact, you look quite thirsty little one. Suck some of the sweat out of my sock. Don't worry, there's plenty there and I can replenish it easy enough.”

Gulping, Tevid tried to mentally prepare himself. The most traumatising part of his enslavement to Shazgob was the flavour of her rancid feet. The taste was extremely potent and sharp, like bitter cheese with a strong, salty after-taste. A night of worshipping the feet of the purple ogress would leave his mouth tainted by the flavour which persisted until the next foot licking session.

Biting down on a yellowed patch of sock, Tevid screwed his eyes shut as the vile substance burst out and filled his mouth. It was quite thick, much like that of Shazgob's, but unlike Shazgob's foot sweat this seemed to be much sourer and leave a vinegary after-taste behind once swallowed. Pulling away, Tevid coughed a couple of times, but was quick to recover and plant a kiss onto the socked foot, pressing his little face deep into the sweaty material that he had literally just finished sucking foot sweat out of.

“How gracious of you!” The ogress was howling with laughter, appeased by the halfling's obedience. At the very least she would give a glowing review to Shazgob upon her return, a review that he was paying for with humiliation from his dwindling source. Not wanting the orange ogress to change her mind, he continued the massage and worship combination with maximum effort.

Picking up one of her boots, the ogress gave the opening a sniff. “Wow, that's stinky. Even for an ogre boot. I must say, you're pretty tough to even be standing near my feet. I wonder, is that toughness all yours, or have you acquired it during your time with my good friend?” She asked rhetorically, wiggling her toes absently as she was thinking. The question got Tevid thinking too. He didn't think that he had been all that tough before encountering Shazgob, but she had commented a few times that it took him longer to faint during exposure to her titanic foot stench. Had his sister unknowingly trained him for this horrific twist in life?

Until Shazgob came back to the cave, Tevid kept massaging. At times, he had to rub the damp, doughy flesh of this ogress' sole through one of the holes in her sock. The ogress offered both compliments and words of advice as he worked on her feet, delivering both with a smile of smug superiority plastered on her face. When she opened her mouth to instruct Tevid to move onto the second foot, Shazgob entered the cave, carrying a few deer dangling by their legs from one hand and a sack full of vegetables in the other. The sack was made of material that looked suspiciously like the orange ogress' socks, and was stained in a similar way. Not as stained as the socks, but discoloured all the same.

“Glasha?” Shazgob said, blinking to adjust to the reduced light in the cave, smiling a grin of recognition.

“Shazgob! You finally arrived! As you can see, I made myself at home and made good use of your slave. He's good, but I see more than a few areas that he could improve in.” Glasha commented, pulling her feet away from a shocked Tevid. Venomous thoughts brewed within his head. After all he'd done for her, she told Shazgob that? He shivered as Shazgob's eyes turned to him, the glint in them promising punishment.

“Well, I'm sure between the two of us we can offer enough... encouragement. Did you see Yazgash on your travels, or is she even later than you are?”

“Late? I wasn't aware that you had specified a time. The message carried by the hawk just said to come here so I did. Okay, I stopped at a couple villages on my way for some fun, but I made it didn't I?” Glasha said as she rammed her feet back into her boots, giving each a couple of stomps to ensure they were on properly. “Besides, Yazgash has to walk all the way from the badlands. That's a long way, even for a trooper like her.”

“I suppose you're right.” Shazgob agreed, looking down at her own bare purple feet. When her head raised once more, she was staring at Tevid expectantly. “I've just noticed that my feet are both filthy and sweaty from all the walking around without boots I have done this morning. While we wait for our belated pal, I think it is a good time to show you how well my little slave can clean feet. Come on Tevid, get that tongue ready you've got quite the task ahead of you!” Shazgob laughed, sitting down and presented her feet in the same way that Glasha had, showing him the patches of blackened sole that he had to clean with his mouth.

“I'd hurry up, little one.” Glasha said softly, moving to his flank. “You don't want me to make you clean her feet, do you?”

Tevid shook his head, gulped and went over to begin lapping at Shazgob's soles. Oddly enough the dirt somewhat took away from the putrid natural flavour of her feet, meaning that he much preferred cleaning them in this state rather than straight out of a hot, steaming boot. Though it was still far from a pleasant task and the second ogress stood behind didn't help matters much. But things could only get worse from here, with one final, foul tempered ogress still to arrive.

In the days leading up to the arrival of the third ogress, Tevid's torturous slavery to his ogress master became much more tedious. With Glasha now staying in the cave with them, Shazgob upped her game in order to impress her equally sadistic friend. Rather than spending most of the time in her boot, he instead spent most of his time serving their smelly bodies, primarily their huge feet. Licking, kissing and rubbing the odious things for all he was worth. The purple ogress didn't hesitate to share her method of washing with Glasha, which led to the both of them striping off, loading their halfling sponge up with a glob of spit from both of their mouths before being using him to clean the stale sweat and dirt from their skin.

A second meal was added to Tevid's diet with the arrival of Glasha. Just how Shazgob knew how to make ogre mush, Glasha knew how to make soup using her own special recipe. It wasn't exactly a complex one either. Pulling a large bucket out of the loot bag she'd acquired from various villages during her travels, Glasha would use it as a large bowl to both make her foul invention and also feed Tevid. Removing one sock, she wrung it out above her gaping mouth, filling it with old, lukewarm foot sweat. Next came a thorough rinsing of her mouth before spitting the barbaric concoction into the bucket to be consumed. Often enough, there would be chunks of meat floating in the bucket, knocked loose from her sharp teeth and loaded with flavour due to a long period of marinating in the ogress' hot, moist breath and saliva. Admittedly, due to consistency and method of serving, Glasha's special soup was the preferable meal to eat out of the two available to him, though it still caused him to shudder with disgust whenever it touched his tongue.

Four days after Glasha showed up, the trio were in the cave together. After eating a hearty breakfast of ogre mush, the four big, stinking feet were giving Tevid quite the workout, playing a game where their sweaty feet would wrestle for supremacy over his tiny body, pinning him to the ground or sandwiching him between feet and squeezing him for all he was worth. Whoever had him when they got bored would have their feet licked clean first and the loser would have to wait, usually passing the time by putting on their boots and going for a long run. This time was different however, as the game was interrupted.

Stood in the mouth of the cave, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed, was a large figure. She had been stood there silently for a while, watching the scene before her unfold. Tevid spotted her first, a feeling of dread filling him as he was swallowed by hot, smelly foot flesh. His tormentors hadn't yet noticed. From the pair of horns jutting from her head, it was obvious that she was an ogress. Her complexion was an olive green colour and overall she had a tribal appearance. Where Shazgob and Glasha clothed themselves in tanned leather and tough fabrics, this one was dressed in animal skins and furs (stained by body sweat, of course) with seemingly random pieces of metal armour attached here and there. The green ogress' black hair was worn in one single, long war-braid. On her right cheek she had painted something in red: five dots that decreased in size from left to right. She had piercings too, but not of metal. Her piercings were of immaculate white bone, mostly teeth but some were carved from larger bones. These piercings only really adorned her ears and one eyebrow, but it was quite the striking feature nonetheless.

For the better part of an hour, the green ogress remained quiet, not wanting to interrupt her friends' fun and games, and also because she enjoyed watching the tiny, pale male being mashed between their feet. Once she grew bored of merely watching she coughed loudly, attracting the attention of both ogresses who looked elated upon seeing the figure stood waiting.

“Yazgash!” They said, not quite simultaneously, confirming Tevid's educated guess that this was in fact the individual they were waiting for.

“Took you long enough to notice me.” Yazgash grumbled, though the slight smile showed that she was far from angry.

“How long were you stood there?” Shazgob asked.

“Almost an hour. Your slave spotted me a while back, but didn't say anything.” Yazgash's eyes shot to Tevid, who felt himself cower from her stare alone. This one was mean.

“Did he now?” Shazgob said, trying to look stern but failing to completely hide the smile of sadism brightening her face. “Well, I think that my little halfling should have to compensate you somehow, what do you think?”

A toothy grin came to the green ogress. “Hmmm...” Yazgash mused loudly, drawing snickers from the otherwise uninvolved Glasha. “I must say, the journey from the badlands all the way to this cave has been killer on my feet. A long, tender massage with a tiny tongue would hit the spot right about now.”

“I know just the little foot rubber who would be happy to help you with that!” Shazgob said, giggling, as she volunteered her slave.

Yazgash grunted happily, stepping forward and sitting heavily on the ground with her friends. With a couple forceful tugs, the green ogress managed to remove her footwear with not too much difficultly. The boots she wore were much different from Shazgob's and Glasha's boots, which had the craftsmanship of ogre cobblers. These were different. Much like her clothes, they were crafted from animal furs and skins in a fashion typical of the badlands from what little Tevid knew of the region. A land of orc tribes constantly at war, their wars consisting of wrestling and forced foot smelling. It was extremely difficult to overwhelm an orc with foot odour, but the residents of the badlands managed it on a daily basis. This led the halfling to believe that those boots that Yazgash wore were no joke in terms of manufacturing stink.

Washing through the cave was a reeking wave, distinct from that of the other two ogress' feet. It was the stench of pure cheesy feet, so strong that it was actually visible and made Tevid's eyes water as it made contact. Wrapped around her big, smelly, green feet were lengths of leather footwrap. Perhaps the footwraps were once brown a long time ago but they had been subjected to so much foot sweat that they were now nearly black in colour. Yazgash slowly unravelled them, releasing more and more foot stench as more and more of her flesh was exposed. The entire meaty, wrinkly sole was flushed a deep red over the natural green pigment thanks to being wrapping up in sweaty confines.

“What do you think girls?” Yazgash asked with no small amount of pride, flexing her newly freed bulbous green toes.

“I'm starting to see why they call you the 'Terror of the badlands'. Your feet stink something awful!” Glasha commented, wafting her orange hand under her gaping nostrils.

“Are you implying your own feet don't stink? When I walked in here and you guys were tormenting the tiny slave the smell kicked like a mule!” Yazgash fired back, chuckling heartily. The ogresses acted like they were trading insults but to them these were actually compliments.

Yazgash turned her menacing gaze to Tevid, who was cowering before her reeking feet. “Come on. You got a lot of licking to do.” She extended one foot, moving it towards him and burying his body in the shadow.

“What are you waiting for?” Shazgob asked, hoping that the immense foot odour assaulting his nose would be enough to cause disobedience, giving her reason to inflict punishment. She stomped one of her long, purple feet to drive the unspoken threat home.

Tevid began licking feet once more. Although it was just as torturous an experience as it had been the first time, so much licking of ogress feet had got him used to it slightly, allowing him to continue without shrivelling up and crying due to the harsh, putrid flavours entering his body. The trio of ogresses laughed when they saw the halfling's face twist with near painful distaste yet keep licking anyway, all of them thinking about how well trained he was. Yazgash kept her foot extended, rotating it so that Tevid could reach every inch of the cheesy, slimy foot flesh with his tiny tongue. It took a while but Shazgob and Glasha were watching with glee. Yazgash may possess the stinkiest feet of the three of them, but the other two weren't far behind, and one thing on their mind whilst they watched the entertaining display was how smelly they could make their feet in the future in order to make their slave suffer even more.

The heel, the wrinkled arch, the meaty ball, and all around the huge toes. Tevid licked it all, consuming mouthful after mouthful of foot sweat and foot funk that clung in the deepest pits of reeking flesh. Once he was done, he almost collapsed, dreading the idea of repeating the exercise for a second foot. But he was taken by surprise. Whilst he had been busy, the ogresses had discretely decided that they intended to begin marching for the garden of growth this very evening.

An object caught Tevid from behind, lifting him up slightly and smashing him into the doughy, moist sole of the unlicked foot. His head was pushed into the space between Yazgash's toe heads and the ball of her foot and remained there, the object originally used to cause the contact was being wrapped around him and the ogress' foot, entombing him in one of the foulest places in the realm. Yazgash was re-wrapping her foot with Tevid still pressed tightly against her incredibly unpleasant sole. He tried begging but Yazgash simply scrunched her toes, burying his opening maw into the rancid bank of flesh slightly below his chin. This caused only muffled screaming and the consumption of more of the sour filth that coated her skin.

With her foot fully wrapped with Tevid imprisoned under the heavily overused strip of rotten leather, Yazgash put her boot back on, launching him into a realm of heat, sweat and stink. Immediately he felt the difference between this badlands boot and the leather boots owned by the other two ogresses. These boots made in a distance land that Tevid never wished to visit had an amazing ability to withhold and produce heat thanks to layers upon layers of heat insulation granted by materials harvested by animals. These materials could not be from the badlands, as the beasts that roamed those lands did not acquire such warm hides in their evolution. It was likely that the materials for these boots had been shipped in from a colder climate specifically for the purpose of giving the stinkiest ogress in the badlands a pair of boots that matched her naturally pungent odour. And it was a glowing success. Tevid could feel the environment separated from him by the footwrap, some of the foulness seeped through the gaps, and he knew that the inside of the boot was like a searing swamp.

Yazgash finished putting the footwrap and boot back onto her second, mildly cleaner foot and hopped to her feet, ready to go. The three ogresses collected their supplies and set off for where the halfling had told Shazgob that the garden of growth was located.

The journey and subsequent arrival of the ogresses at the garden of growth was mostly uneventful. They had to crawl through the tunnels that went under the enormous mountains surrounding the valley where the magical potatoes of growing were. It was as if whatever magic created the potatoes also caused the mountains to swell too, ensuring that the valley was protected by hulking walls of rock.

Wildlife was plentiful here, larger than usual too. Deer ran around three times the size as what they were in the outside world. Needless to say, the animals fled as soon as they saw the brutish ogre girls exploring the valley, though it was entirely possible that they smelt the ogresses first and were ready to run. The garden itself where the potatoes grew was easy enough to find at the centre of the valley. A group of smaller deer (yet still huge compared to deer in the outside world) were sharing a single potato between the four of them, nibbling at it carefully. Glasha smiled at the sight, but not a sweet smile like any normal being might see when witnessing deer feeding. She stomped her foot several times, drawing the attention of the deer and scaring them off.

“Hahahaha!” Glasha laughed, pointing at the fleeing animals. “Did you see how fast they booked it when they saw me? Classic!”

“Maybe if it were me they'd have come over. After all, I am significantly less hideous.” Shazgob said.

“Yeah, it was definitely your face Glasha.” Yazgash agreed, smirking.

“You guys are mean!” Glasha said, however she wasn't offended in the least. In fact she enjoyed the banter with her best friends, other ogresses she hung out with just didn't seem to understand.

“It is nice, all of us being back together again, isn't it? The three of us, our stinky feet and a broken foot toy to play with. Heaven.” Yazgash had a rare moment of vulnerability, adopting a happy tone which sounded strange on her usually harsh tongue. This dragged the other two into her mindset and they found themselves nodding slowly.

“Right!” Shazgob piped up, stepping forward “Let's see how these potatoes work!”

“How are we going to do it, to measure how big we grow?” Yazgash asked.

“Shazgob and I had an idea involving you, since you have the foot slave currently stewing under your foot.” Glasha said.

“Indeed. The best person to witness this growth would be the halfling pressed up tightly against your foot. If that big foot of yours starts getting even bigger, he'll be the first to know about it!” Shazgob elaborated on her plan and Yazgash loved the idea.

Without further ado, Yazgash began tearing handfuls of potatoes out of the ground, shovelling them into her large mouth.

“Ummm, Yazgash?” Glasha said “You know that you're supposed to cook those first, right?”

“Just leave her too it. She's enjoying herself. Aren't you eager to see the results too?” Shazgob replied, making Glasha realise how much she wanted this to work, imagining how powerful she'd be if she were even larger.

The two ogresses watched with interest as their friend swallowed mouthful after mouthful of the magic growing potatoes. There were countless potatoes growing, so overconsumption wasn't an issue, after all the wildlife living in the valley had been there for a long time. Once she had eaten over a dozen handfuls of the potatoes, Yazgash came to a stop, starting to feel quite full.

“Do you feel any different? Any bigger?” The purple ogress asked her green friend.

“She doesn't look any bigger.” Glasha had to have her input of course.

Raising her hands and staring at them, Yazgash blinked. She did feel bigger. Ever so slightly. And she also felt that she was still growing at a near unnoticeable rate. “I am growing. It's not much all at once, but I'm growing.”

Shazgob and Glasha started jumping and down with excitement, clapping their big hands and sending what was literally a thunderous applause throughout the valley. They had been hoping for a quick solution to increasing their dominating abilities, but this was good enough. “How about we wait until you think you've stopped then rip that stinky boot off to ask our slave?” Shazgob suggested.

Yazgash had a couple of false alarms, telling the others that she had stopped growing before realising it was still going, but finally the badlands ogress knew for certain. Pulling at the boot, she found it impossible to remove by herself. The boot had not gotten larger alongside her, tightening around the olive green skin of her calf and foot. She stood it, causing Shazgob and Glasha to back away in surprise. Yazgash had always been a little taller than them, but they could see that she was even taller. It wasn't a huge difference, but they still noticed it. Perhaps it would take years of constantly eating those magic potatoes to reach the size they desired, but the results were within the realm of possibility.

Lifting a hefty leg up, Yazgash put an arm around Shazgob's shoulders to prop herself up and nodded at her foot. “Lend a hand Glasha. My boot is stuck.”

The orange skinned ogress rolled her eyes. “Perhaps you should have thought about that earlier, you big green dolt.” Regardless, she lent her help and firmly grabbed the boot with both hands, those powerful ogre arms pulling with full strength. She was surprised by how much force she had to exert but soon enough the boot was off, the disgusting scent trapped within spilling out in a foul flood. They repeated this with the second booted foot, the one that Tevid had been kept prisoner with no sense of anything but Yazgash's sweaty sole and thick, cheesy toes.

Facing her wrapped sole to the sky, Yazgash presented the halfling to the others. Immediately all three of them began to laugh. The well worn leather had constricted around the meaty ogress sole, squeezing the hot, smelly flesh to its limit as well as the naked Tevid who was tied to it. The bulging flesh had caused him to be passively smothered by Yazgash's foot even more than before.

As soon as he felt anything but the warm, humid air that lurked within the boot caressing his back Tevid started struggling and screaming, which amounted to little more than twitching and muffled noises thanks to the amount of pressure forcing his body into Yazgash's slightly larger foot.

“Looks cosy.” Glasha sneered, letting out an ugly laugh.

“I think we should go grab a bite to eat Glasha, whilst Yazgash unwraps our present.” Shazgob nudged her fellow ogress.

“Now that... that sounds like the best thing you've said in years!” Glasha was eager to become bigger, bigger than even Yazgash had become. She couldn't wait for the day when human cities would evacuate on her approach, fleeing in terror as she assembled her army of slaves that would learn to worship her or face a life of stinky suffering. She and Shazgob went over and started gobbling raw potatoes, ripping them out of the ground with muscled ogre hands of purple and orange.

Slamming to the ground onto her toned buttocks, Yazgash set to work removing both footwraps, first unwrapping her unoccupied foot and dropping the long strip of leather into a vacant boot before working to free Tevid, as good as he might feel being constantly dominated by the stench of her foot and weight of her body, she had to share the halfling with her friend.

“There there,” She cooed, teasing as Shazgob would have. Yazgash had always envied her friend's ability to verbally torment others, the badlands ogress tended to rely on power and odour alone. “I'll free you from my big, mean, stinky foot little halfling. I hope you and your tongue are ready. We've been walking for days as I'm sure you know, you probably felt every step.”

It was true. Tevid had felt Yazgash stomp him so many times that he had lost count. With no way of telling time inside the putrid prison, he had thought it had been much longer he spent in there. Upon hearing that it had only been days, his eyes widened in surprise. He was utterly exhausted, not just from the past few days in Yazgash's rank boot under a ceiling of sweaty, wrinkled skin but from his new life in general. Tevid yearned for the days when it was only his sister making him miserable. Now he had three monsters making him far more miserable than his bully of a sibling could ever dream of doing.

Yazgash took her time, slowly peeling off the second footwrap, each layer removed gave Tevid some much needed freedom. In the meantime Shazgob and Glasha had eaten just about as much as Yazgash had, encouraged to eat quickly after seeing the effect that the earth-born vegetables had on their friend. Having eating their fill, they slowly made their way back over to Yazgash's slow unwrapping of Tevid, casting their large shadows over the two, spectating as they steadily grew in size.

By the time Tevid was free from the footwrap but still stuck to the hulking foot of one of his ogress captors because of a combination of sweat and pressure, Shazgob and Glasha had finished growing. Now they were just as tall as Yazgash had become.

Olive green fingers found Tevid's foot and peeled him from the filthy sole that he was glued to, dropping him to the ground. In this moment, had he the option to do so, he would have ran. Fled from these vile ogresses that were happy to use him as a foot slave and more, violate his senses with casual behaviour, utterly breaking his senses when they actually tried. But he was broken and tired, unable to resist. He simply sat in horror as the now larger trio got in position around him, sitting down as Yazgash already had done.

Three pairs of massive, reeking, ogress feet sealed Tevid between them, creating walls of stinky, wrinkly foot flesh on each side. They put both feet together, side by side, then the three pairs together, edge to edge. Tevid was assaulted by the cocktail of pungent funky odours that raped his nostrils, overwhelming his brain and re-educating him on what kinds of stink were possible from feet. Though he had nearly been the same size as an ogress foot before, after his slavers had eaten the food from the garden of growth they outsized him further. They didn't quite reach double the size of the halfling's body, but they were close. He struggled with every breath; the so called air was packed full of acrid moisture and felt heavy as he breathed it into his lungs.

“Lick, slave. Lick our soles like your life depends on it.” Shazgob ordered. It didn't, these ogresses loved having a tiny slave to serve at their smelly, dirty feet but Shazgob enjoyed making the threat. Tevid came close to calling her bluff, but his willpower gave into the obedience that had been drummed into him by his purple master.

He licked and he licked and he licked some more, consuming the thick, slimy sweat lingering on their warm skin starting at the heels and working his way up. As he was surrounded by ogress feet, his little pocket in the middle was heating up, their natural body temperature combining and causing their feet to sweat further. Tevid eventually cleared the uncreased, rough skin of all six heels and began lapping at the lowest point of the six arches. He found that another effect of the size increase was deep wrinkles hiding even nastier flavours inside. Had he not been worshipping feet with everything he had, Tevid would have felt dread thinking about how giant and terrible these colourful feet would become in the future.

Working up the arches, ensuring to give each ogress equal attention, Tevid came to a point where he could only just reach the doughy balls if he stood on his tiptoes but he doubted that the ogresses would care about his excuses so he continued trying without success.

Shazgob, Glasha and Yazgash enjoyed watching their slave try his best to please them but fail anyway. But there came a point when they just wanted him to keep on cleaning their disgusting feet so decided to intervene. “Don't worry, slave. We'll help you out.” Shazgob told him with an evil smile. At once, all three of them pushed their feet even closer, sealing off the bottom of the halfling's smelly pocket of space by touching their heels together. Tevid slid upwards thanks to the coaxing of wet skin, some of the moisture was his saliva but a good percentage was fresh ogress sweat. He felt the hot skin embrace his lower body, trapping his arms by his side and leaving him stuck at the level of the balls of the ogresses, only able to move his shoulders and head. With nothing to do but obey, Tevid licked the filthy banks of flesh all around him, the ogresses using their feet to rotate him around. They further manipulated his little body with their feet when he had finished licking the balls of their feet and shimmied him up just a touch more so he could stick his head between their toes, each stinky gap a contender for hell on earth. Between those toes a sizeable helping of toejam had collected and Tevid managed to choke it somehow without puking it back up.

It came to a point where the ogresses were somewhat satisfied with the triple foot worship from their slave, after he had practically used his tongue on every inch of smelly foot flesh. They released him from the foot press and he fell back down to the bases of the three differently coloured, huge feet, awaiting instruction in his cave of foot odour.

“You've done well.” Shazgob said, leaning forward and letting Tevid she her smiling face up past her toes above him. The other two copied her actions, giving the halfling a horrifying image of his masters' faces atop the walls of feet trapping him. “Since you've finished, we've decided to have some more fun with you.”

The three monsters started laughing and had to wait a couple minutes before they could continue. Clearly they had something devious planned. After the laughter had passed, all of them started drooling, allowing their rank saliva to drop into the space between their feet where Tevid dwelt. At first, he avoided the drops of thick spit that rained down on him, but it rapidly collected on the ground and soon enough his odorous cave became a well to ogress saliva.

“I'd get drinking if I were you!” Glasha said, putting her barrage of spit to a stop for a moment. “Or else you'll soon be swimming in our spit and you ain't getting out until it is all gone.” Tevid tried a mouthful, and though it was foul, it wasn't quite as awful as all the foot sweat and grime he'd recently eaten. As he literally gulped down the liquid from the mouths of his tormentors, Tevid thought about his situation, how dire it had become. He didn't even speak any more, he had no reason to. Oddly enough, Castella came to mind. He wondered if she ever thought about him and the sacrifice that he made. But thinking about the happiness he felt around Castella just made Tevid sad. So he pushed such thoughts out of his mind and went back to the monotonous task of drinking ogress spit that was slowing being roasted by three reeking soles, adding to the already putrid flavour.

Twenty years later.

“Another!” Castella yelled, keeping her expression hard like it always was. Sure, she could be happy from time to time. But this was not one of those times. For the previous week and the upcoming two, she travelled the one trading route that she hated. This was the route where she committed what she considered to be her greatest failing in life.

She had avoided that halfling village ever since. There was no way that she could return there, knowing what had happened to Tevid. Poor, sweet Tevid. The halfling who worked so hard to improve his life, only to be robbed of everything by a cruel ogress. Perhaps he was dead. Castella hoped he was dead. The alternative was so much worse.

Finally, the barkeep handed over a mug of ale that the merchant immediately paid for, taking a grateful gulp. A lute player had just finished his song over in the back corner of the bar, quickly replaced by a female. She introduced herself as a storyteller and Castella's iron face almost cracked into a smile. She loved just closing her eyes and listening to a good tale, imagining every step of the journey.

But this story was not a pleasant one. The storyteller proved herself to be a bit of a doom-sayer, starting the story off with a warning about it being a story of an impending disaster, one that might be only decades away. She spoke of three ogresses who had moved into a valley not so far away long ago, a valley where the 'garden of growth' was located. These ogresses, one purple, one orange, one green, went there in search of a way to make themselves larger. And they succeeded. Apparently they had eaten the potatoes that grew there and grown far larger than they were supposed to. But that left them with a problem. The underground tunnels that they had crawled through in order to enter the valley had become too small for them to leave through, trapping them within the valley.

“And to this very day, the three ogresses live in the valley, feasting on magical growth potatoes. However, one day they will reach their goal; becoming large enough to climb over the mountainous walls themselves. What they will do when they escape is anyone's guess, although I promise you that it will not be good.” The storyteller concluded, having accomplished bringing everyone's mood down with her tale.

The storyteller came over to the bar after she was done, standing next to Castella. The merchant was overwhelmed by the story, wondering if maybe it was about the ogress that had taken Tevid away from her. She had been purple after all, and the garden of growth was Tevid's end goal. Curiousity got the better of the merchant.

“Excuse me?” Castella said to the woman stood next to her, who turned with a warm smile.

“How can I help you? Do you have any questions about my story?”

“Just one.” Castella took a deep breath. “How true is it?”

The storyteller's expression darkened. Not with rage, but fear. “Extremely so. I was hiking years back with some bards because they wanted to explore the mountains in search of inspiration when we smelt something... awful. Following our noses, we were led to a valley and at the bottom, miles below where we stood, were a trio of colourful ogresses far larger than any ogres had a right to be. Their harsh voices echoed up to us. They weren't talking to each other though. It looked like they had some poor creature at their feet, which is what we could smell. I can't even imagine being directly beside those things. Anyway, it seemed like they were verbally teasing this captured creature. Likely they were entertaining themselves, it probably gets boring being trapped in a valley.”

“After doing some research when we returned, I put together the other details that made up the story. Knowing that one day those monsters are going to escape at even greater size is something I've had nightmares about ever since. The foot odour was horrendous enough, when they become gigantic it will likely reach unfathomable levels.” The storyteller went into a haunted silence, shaking her head.

When the woman didn't continue talking, Castella took that as the end to the flow of information. She finished her drink and left as fast as possible, wanting to be alone with the emotions welling up inside her. But she couldn't shake the thought of Tevid still being alive at the mercy of not one, but three ogresses and their immensely stinky feet.