My reflection on the past was interrupted by a splash in the present. I was back in the dim sultry leather pump. My tongue had moved to the side of of Dianne's big toe, the callous here felt hardened but smooth, occasionally using my teeth to chip away at an especially encrusted piece of junk.

I had almost finished licking along the three ridges of encrusted dirt on her callous. Each time I had to stretch my tongue out to reach the bottom of this skin ridge, it felt two or three inches deep, so that my tongue felt like was being placed into a rough, dirty bowl, that tasted of leather and cheese. I would then drag it along this texture picking up wet and dried muck, as her dead skin and dirt filled my mouth and overwhelmed my senses with her foot gunk. I was on the final line of filth I had to lick up on the big toe. My mouth and tongue ached – I felt somewhat thirsty but my mouth was soaked with salty sweat. It wasn't salty enough to dehydrate me, but it felt close enough to make me desperate for a drink. My tongue continued to drag into the ridge, as I pushed it left and right, my mouth filling with wet goop, and I coughed it into the increasing pile.

Finally, the 3 lines of dirt, removed and clean, left me feeling oddly satisfied. My toe mistresses sensed that I had done the job, and her big toe curled back and over me, it began to lower slightly, and I stepped back so it wouldn't hit me, moving back to the tip of the shoe, before the big toe slammed back down. I found my self staring at the black nail of her big toe again. I was desperately thirsty. I pushed the gunk I was holding back into the tip, and set off once again to fulfill my purpose.

Dianne's toes were resting on her insole, her toe prints full of foot sweat below them – barely enough to appear visible to her, but looking like about a foot or deeper depending how deep her toe prints were to me. I had just spent god knows how long licking and chewing filth caked into the grooves of skin from Dianne's big toe, but I still had four more toes to go; I hadn't even gotten between the second third toe yet. Desperate to satisfy my thirst, I turned around on my hands and knees, and her big toe loomed above me by a yard to her nail, but was resting in a shallow puddle of sweat.

I put my head down, like a gazelle trying to lap at a drying riverbed in the middle of a hot african summer, sweat pouring from my brow from the sultry conditions within Dianne's shoe. Like a monstrous lion, Dianne's big toe loomed above me and made me nervous, like it might pounce on me at any time. It was all animalistic; I was hardly thinking but I felt things my primal ancestors must have felt thousands of years ago, the genetic memory living on in my instincts. Trying to keep one eye on Dianne's big toe, I put my lips into her sweat. I was immediately hit by a taste of salt and vinegar – but I was so thirsty I began to drink – floating debris getting caught in my teeth swallowed out right. Bits that got stuck to my tongue tasted of leather and cheese, but in my desire to quench my thirst I ignored them and they were washed down my throat amongst the sweat. I picked my head up and coughed, Dianne's toe seemingly amused by this lifted and slammed down in front of me, splashing sweat all over me. The aftertaste was like moldy cheese, and I started to gag, but only for a second. Although not feeling refreshed, I was no longer thirsty, and moved on to my duty to Dianne's toes.

Moving past Diannes' big toe, her long second toe was lifted slightly in the air, and was pressed against the front of the shoe. From the dim light within the shoe, I didn't hesitate, I squatted down into the pool of sweat with my naked body to pass under it. The 12 inches or so of sweat within the toe print was covering my mouth, and I attempted to crawl military style, like I was in a swamp crossing under a log.

As I passed under her toe, I looked up, and I could see bits of muck clinging to the bottom, they appeared like to be finger sized rags of wet brown and black material, presumably from her skin and shoe. Before I had completely passed under it, her big toe came down on me, pinning me face first the shallow water.

I once again found myself struggling for my life, this time in the shallow toe print of her second toe. It was pathetic. From within the water, I could feel bits toe junk flowing into my face and mouth as I tried to pull myself up and out of the water. As I did, the second toe appeared agitated, and shoved me deeper into the mud that was her insole. Pinned below her toe and the insole, I could feel myself sinking deeper into the muck, there was nothing I could do, and I found myself slapping the toe with my left arm, like a wrestle attempting to yield.

The toe lifted itself back up allowed me to surface. I found myself gasping for breath, leaning on the toe that nearly drowned me. In fear, I crawled forward towards the third toe, but before I reached it Dianne's whole foot moved sharply to its left, throwing me back into Dianne's second toe with a thud, before I fell dazed into the sweat. The whole shoe now slanting towards her big toe, I found myself caught in a whirlwind of sweat as I fell with a wave that splashed into Dianne's big toe, the wind knocked from my chest.

As I was gasping for air, the shoe was jarred quickly to the right, throwing me from the toe. I was caught in a returning wave of warm salty sweat; I found myself rolling along the bottom of the shoe in what appeared to be a toe riptide.

The shoe stopped moving. The toe sweat simply bounced from left to right in the shoe, slowly decreasing in intensity, like a wave pool which just got turned off. I was on my back with her sweat submerging more than half of my body, but wasn't enough to cover my face, I breathed in the humid, sweaty air, only pausing for the small tide of sweat that was still bouncing on both sides of the shoe to run over my face, sticking bits of detritus to my naked flash as it passed over.

Above me was Dianne's second toe. I could see the muck I had seen from earlier, with fresh deposits from the tide of sweat that had been bouncing around the shoe. It was bobbing above me, twitching left and right, and looked like it was dancing – or that Dianne was twitching her foot to some music.

Exhausted and scared, I simply lied their watching this monster dance above me. It was futile, I had absolutely no control over my situation and simply took the moment to temporarily try to regain some energy. The second toe started to lower back down, but I didn't even attempt to move. The living slick leather skin was warm as it first touched the top of my legs, before pushing into my crouch, chest, and face. Upon touching my face I first couldn't breathe, but then it lifted up a little, giving me room to turn my head. I took a deep breathe while having my face pressed against her second toe, her sweaty skin gave on wet heat like a sauna. I simply lied there breathing in deeply, the smell of her sweaty shoe sauna and her second toe a mix of cheese and vinegar.

The second toe then pressed into me, only lightly and for a second, but it was enough to make myself feel like I moved a few inches down into the muck, and sweat got closer to the lips of mouth. Any further and I would be back under the sweat level, struggling to not drown. But the toe lifted, and I found the myself rising again.

Then it came down again, this time a little more, pushing me into the sweat for a second, before lifting, allowing myself to breathe.

Then there was a pause. The toe seemed to be agitated. Dianne's toes lifted above me and she brought them together, scrunching them downwards and creasing folds along the bottom of her foot, before relaxing, and her second toe resting on me again, her sweat dripping onto my face and body..

Another pause. I simply stared at her second toe, too tired to do anything. Her I could feel the swirls on her soft sweaty skin, which was heavy but somewhat soft.

WHAM!

Her second toe had jerked up quickly, bent back slightly, and slammed down on my chest, knocking the wind from me. I was gasping for air. It then flattened itself out, dragging it's sweating skin along my legs, crotch, and chest, before resting on my face.

Based on my previous experiences and the fact I hadn't been able to move forward, I finally understand what the toe mistress wanted. I wrapped my arms and legs around the bottom of the toe, and like I was making love, begin it kiss and lick the bottom of Dianne's second toe. Her toe, delighting at the sensation, pressed into me like it was embracing a lover, which had the effect of submerging me deeper into the sweat, not deep enough drown me in the pool, but enough to cause the sweat to splash into my face and spill into my mouth.

So there I was, licking the gunk from Dianne's second toe, nibbling off bits of dead skin. My naked body locked in an embrace with her second toe, which seemed almost twice as long as I was. The toe, in return, shoved me into a swamp of sweat and junk, and every moment I spent was a struggle to kiss and to breathe, only getting enough breath to stay conscious long enough to be pushed under the sweat again, to panic and to surface, licking the toe as I breathed through my nose hopping to appease my goddess.

This went on for god knows how long, before Dianne pulled up her toe and tipped her foot to the side, causing me to roll in the tide into her third toe. Slamming my face into it, I didn't hesitate, and immediately began to lick the side of it. I crawled along in the pool of sweat towards her toe web, leaving my tongue on the wall that was her third toe as my right and left shoulder rubbed against the wall of her second third toe respectively, the sweat from the toes transferring from her to me, and I could feel the stuff dripping down my shoulders and arms, and over my back and crotch; the sweat coming off me appeared like a had placed myself in a shower. Her skin was soft, warm, and leathery, tasting of malt vinegar and cheese, and covered in grime. As I reached the web between her toes, I coughed up some larger jam that had accumulated in my mouth, and simply buried my face into the webbing – it was dirtier than it was after I had cleaned it, but still no where near as dirty as earlier. Any place I saw a bit of dirt, began to lick – crustier elements requiring me to nibble and drag my teeth across it to remove. I would get an occasion crunch of something nasty between my own teeth and tasting like I bit into stale, yet moldy cheese. It made me gag and cough, but I continued to lick the exposed surface.

I had been so thoroughly beaten about by Dianne's toes I was terrified to stop working. She had trained me well and quickly from within her shoe, and at this point there was only one thing on my mind – fear of my mistresses. I was their slave, and my existence was to service them or be punished. I had forgotten who I was, forgotten where I was going or for what reason I was going there. My life was this sultry shoe, my purpose to clean these beasts before me.

So I did. After thoroughly licking every exposed inch of flesh between Dianne's second and third toe, I turned back, and with my tongue against her third toe, moved my way back up the to the nail, this time lower then before, picking up a new layer of grime and dirt with my tongue. Occasionally my mistress would wiggle, delighting in the sensation of my tongue against her, and knocking me back with a splash in her sweat, seeming to emphasize that her joy was my misery. Each time it felt like I was getting slapped and it made it more difficult to get closer to her toe. The instinctive reflex of not wanting to get near something that had caused me pain was becoming stronger and stronger – but then the terror of what would happen if I stopped would overwhelm the fear of pain from her toe. I continued. As I neared the front of her third toe, the skin, while still slick with sweat, became harder, more noticeably scratching my tongue, and it felt rough against it. I crawled around the front of toe, the gap between the toe and wall of the shoe enough for me to lie down in, and simply made love to the tip of her toe, right below the nail, nibbling at the hardened cheesy skin. I could see a layer of gray black muck wedged in between her nail and skin, and after thoroughly licking the skin below it, making sure to suck up the junk that was caked to her flesh, I buried my face under the nail, and began licking and chewing through the grayish detritus that had accumulated under her black cuticle. This goop, while still wet, was slightly dryer than the rest – it reminded me of chewing through, oddly, wet beef jerky. I occasionally came upon a rock or piece of dirt that cracked in mouth, tasting of skin and cheese and vinegar. I used my teeth and tongue to remove the caked in gray material, the bottom her her nail felt like the surface of a rough sea shell. I spent a good long time licking and coughing up the material there. Near the edge of her toenail I buried my face into the the gray jam and pulled it out with my teeth, and an ever increasing strand of black gunk would emerge from the toe. I would cough it out, and see that more remained, so I wedged my face into her flesh once again, one side of my cheek pressed against the sweaty living leather, the other compressed under the nail, as my tongue probed the crease of flesh between the two, tasting salt, desperately trying to to remove they gray material with my tongue in an attempt to scoop it out.

My mouth would have been dry if it wasn't for the sweat from Dianne's toes seeping into my mouth, and my tongue ached from use – even my jaw hurt.

I continued to nibble at the corner of her third toenail, when the toe knocked me forward into the wall of the shoe. Dazed, I saw the toe lift up, jerking back once or twice after reaching it's apex. I could tell what it wanted, it was beckoning me forward.

Muck and jam covered the bottom of her third toe – it was time to clean and be it's bottom bitch, as any good toe slave would be, at the mercy of my third mistress.

I was exhausted, terrified, was trying to cry but I had no tears. I got back onto my knees in the pool of sweat, and then rolled onto my butt. I shifted my body forward so that my feet got closer to the ball of her foot as I lowered myself into the sweat and muck that was her insole. The sweat splashing over me for a second, and I simply watched Dianne's third toe lower onto me from above. It was inevitable.

Her toe pressed into me, the sweat and jam from it pouring and sticking onto me. I wrapped my arms and legs around the toe. This third toe, shorter than the second, was only slightly bigger then me. I found that my face was directly below the nail. I stuck out my tongue and began to lick, occasionally cupping my lips onto her skin to suck at it, like I was I french kissing. I adjusted my body so that I could get to all the dead skin and jam, sucking it off and nibbling it away.

I was nothing but a living toe cleaner.

Sweat from her third toe continued to roll down off the side and onto me, like a warm little waterfall. It was so hot in the shoe. I desperately just wanted fresh air. But I was terrified of mistresses, my face was buried under the joints on her third toe, and I found myself licking at jam that had gotten wedged into the folds. Up and down I dragged my tongue, and for stuff that was especially encased I used my teeth to nibble away at it. After removing the rougher stuff, I would lick it, and then attempt to suck it off, using my tongue as a wedge and lubricant, while I pursed my lips together. Her skin was hot soft underneath the callouses, tasting of vinegar and cheese. Her third toe seemed delighted by this. I must have worked on this gap for a good 10 minutes.

I paused for a respite, only briefly, but then her toe pulled back and pushed forward, rubbing her slick skin up and down my legs, crotch, chest, and face. I immediately began licking and kissing her toe, simply out of fear, afraid the third toe was mad at me for pausing, begging the thing to not drown me in the insole. As I did, it continued to rub me up and down, and the sweaty flesh rubbing into my crotch. I could feel my manhood being pushed down towards me legs. Then her toe would switch directions flipped my manhood again and pushing it towards my chest.

I started to become aroused. I was so terrified and exhausted I was helpless to even stop myself, trying to resist the just seemed like an unnecessary waste of energy. I wasn't particularly into feet (not that there was anything wrong with them) – but I was so helpless and so beaten that I'd become delirious, the sensation of the warm, living, sweaty flesh provided the first pleasantness I'd felt in what seemed like years. The shoe was such a sultry hell, her toes had beaten and nearly drowned me so many times, that in comparison her toe simply rubbing up against me felt like I was being patted like a dog. It felt almost devine. So in a mix of terror and arousal, I found myself getting harder, and her toe, in kind, began to rub me faster, up and back. Out of fear and lust I was burying my face further into the flesh of her toe, trying desperately to please and satisfy them. My johnson was flipping forward and back as her toes rubbed me further and further, sweat splashing everywhere. I became harder, my consciousness of who I was becoming lost in a sea of sweat and toes, my memories of being normal fading and my existence starting to solidify itself as nothing more then a toy of Dianne's foot, - no a toy of these toe mistresses.

I was nearing climax, I had no comprehension of anything but the toe and feeling between my leg, when the toe stopped. The paused was welcome, despite the fact that I was about to climax, I was exhausted and the sweat from the pool had been splashing onto my face, giving me difficulty breathing. It started to withdraw. The shoe was becoming brighter.

She was removing her foot!