Part 3

Gina clenched her cheeks together, delighted and aroused by the wriggling of her opponent within. She wanted to get off by herself, without Tim's gargantuan eyes watching her, and she knew just the place to go to. She'd been there before once or twice, and each time she had enjoyed herself thoroughly.

The place in question lay just beneath Tim's penis - on his balls to be precise. Gina stepped across her lover's thigh and directly onto his engorged ball sack, producing convulsions of pleasure for her giant lover. She took a few steps across the wrinkled surface until she was within the shadow of Tim's tree-sized dick. This was the perfect place to set up her "picnic".

She untied her boots and pulled them off; it felt good for her sweaty feet to be exposed to fresh air once again. It also gave her a chance to check in on an old "friend", whom she had kept tucked away inside one of her socks. This "old friend" was a man by the name of Wesley who Tim had been friends with since High School. One day, Tim caught Wesley sniffing Gina's panties, which he had found in their bathroom hamper.

In anger, Tim had nearly beaten Wesley to death with his bare hands, and would have killed him then and there if it hadn't been for Gina who was able to talk him out of it. This was back when they had first come in possession of the shrink-ray, and Gina argued Wesley would make an excellent test subject. As a result, Wesley had been the couple's first shrunken victim. Tim thought Wesley perished years ago inside his Gina's pussy while he fucked her with his colossal dick.

Unbeknownst to Tim, Wesley somehow managed to survive - albeit with broken bones - and afterwards, Gina had extracted him from her depths and kept him alive all of this time for a reason that only she knows. She had told Tim that Wesley had died and that she flushed his corpse down the toilet, and as far as Tim knew that was the end of the matter.

Since then, Gina kept the tiny gimp as a sort of pet inside her socks or in her panties. His broken legs never quite healed properly, and he couldn't walk, but this suited Gina well, since that meant he could never escape her. Her broken slave managed to subsist, for the most part, on a diet of lint and sweat, as well as a few crumbs and whatever else Gina decided to spoil him with.

Wesley's first year or so as her foot slave were absolute hell for him, and he often wished he were dead. It was perhaps fortunate that he was crippled and unable to commit suicide, or else he no-doubt would have. But as time passed, Wesley slowly forgot about his family and the life he once knew. His life as Gina's slave was never pleasant, but for the most part it had become tolerable, at least.

Being the panty-sniffing pervert that he was, Wesley was able to derive at least some sexual enjoyment from being constantly surrounded by the stench of Gina's toes - thankfully his penis was one thing that wasn't crushed during that fateful night! He could also look forward to those times when Gina would remove him in order to feed or bathe him; and at night when Gina would hide him away in her panty drawer.

Wesley had no clue what day, month, or even year it was. He had completely lost track of all time in his dark, dank, prison. He was at the complete mercy of his giant female master, and was always in the dark (both literally and figuratively) on what Gina was doing, or about to do with him. Today was certainly no exception; but Wes had some inkling something was up, because the movements of his prison were especially intense, and Gina's feet were sweating prolifically - a sure sign she was up to something.

Having spent years living amidst the toes of his colossal mistress, Wesley could rightly consider himself an expert in matters concerning Gina's feet. You might say he knew Gina's feet better than the back of his own hand; better, even, than Gina herself. Therefore, he was not the least surprised when he felt himself being elevated up the boot shaft, within his cotton hammock.

***

Gina peeled the sweat-saturated socks from her feet and set them aside on her boyfriend's Zeppelin-sized testicles. Now she could feel the wrinkled skin of Tim's sack against her bare soles; the balls were swollen and firm enough so that her tiny feet sunk in only a tiny bit (otherwise, it would have most likely been like walking on a Waterbed). A musky manly aroma wafted from the skin and wafted itself towards her nostrils; furthering her arousal. Next, she peeled off her moistened panties and cast them aside with an almost audible "plop".

She then got down to her knees and set her bare bottom down on the testicles of her boyfriend. She wriggled in her little rear a bit to get comfy, and to feel her lover's silky man-skin against the sensitive area of her ass-crack and nether bits. This produced a pleasurable sensation against her clit and labia, and it also served to torture her butt-slave even further - the thought of the Goth's suffering turned her on even more. In fact, this gave her an idea.

Gina leaned to her side and reached between her cheeks for her prize. She easily found her shrunken captive. Somehow, the tiny girl had been pushed into the tangle of hairs that surrounded her anus, and it took a little effort to free her from them. She held the poor creature to her face; the girl was huddled in a fetal position, her body was covered with brownish slime and she smelled terrible. Gina crinkled her nose at the cheesy ass stench that reached her nostrils. The girl was sobbing in an apparent state of despair. "I'm in a good mood, so I decided to give you a break from your nasty dungeon," Gina said. "But don't feel too relieved, because you're going back in there, do you understand?" The shit-covered girl just kept sobbing and gave no response.

Gina shrugged, and laid the tiny ass-slave down on the wrinkly surface of Tim's testicles. At her extremely small size, the tiny Goth must have been no more than a grain of sand in relation to the unimaginable hulk of the normal-sized man on which she was placed. In fact, at this speck size Heather actually tumbled into one of the many wrinkles and fissures on Tim's scrotal skin - much like a piece of sand might find itself wedged inside the minute fissures on the sole of a shoe, and the owner of the shoe would be none the wiser. There she was tucked away and would safely remain until her mistress retrieved her. But for now, it seemed her owner had other plans in mind.

For her own sick amusement, Gina grabbed the sock where she kept her foot-slave, and dumped its contents out in the palm of her hand. There lay the form of a man whose head was covered by long dark hair that had become tangled and filthy from years beneath her toes. The poor man was in desperate need of a shower, hair-cut, and shave, but Gina would allow him none of these things - save for a soak in the tub with her now and then. He was naked, and his broken legs were twisted and atrophied from lack of use. It may be considered fortunate that his arms were still functional, though, and with them he could pull his broken body along during those rare occasions when Gina let him out.

***

Wesley's body landed with a thud on his mistress' palm, just as he had countless times before. He had become somewhat accustomed to this, and right away he began kissing her skin and thanking her for allowing him this brief respite from beneath her sweaty toes. Gina grinned, as she brushed her golden hair from her face to watch her slave go about his worship ritual. She loved how attentive and worshipful he would be, and of all the slaves she had shrunk and killed over the years he seemed to be the most loyal. That was perhaps part of the reason why she kept him alive.

She watched him for a time, but never once did Wesley look back up at her. He learned long ago he was not permitted to make eye-contact with his female master, and he had been faithful in his obedience. At last, Gina spoke: "I have a special treat for you today, my special slave."

"Thank you, my beautiful Goddess. You are both beautiful and kind." Wesley replied, making sure to keep his eyes downward the whole time.

"Have a look around your master Tim's giant nutsack over here, and I am sure you'll find something you will enjoy. But please try to be easy on this one, as I want her back when you're through with her!" Gina laughed, and set the crippled man down in the same general area where she had placed Heather only a moment before.

Wesley was more or less the same speck-size as Heather, and was in the same danger of falling into a scrotal wrinkle as she was. Nevertheless, he had experience on skin this size before and knew the dangers. He reached out with his hands and pulled himself forward with the many pits and crevices that provided easy handholds for him to grab onto. He didn't have much of a clue what he was searching for, but a peculiar aroma stood out within this already musky environment, and he followed his nose towards it through the tree-sized hairs until at last he peeked down into a wrinkle and found himself looking eye-to-eye with a darkly dressed young woman who let out a piercing scream when she saw him. Wesley's bearded face contorted into a smile as he crawled down after her. It had been a long time since Gina had let him ravage a woman this young and beautiful...

(To be continued...?)