With my naked body fully compressed between the sole of Sarah's flat and her hot oily arch, I realized I only had about a minute or so before the tight restrictive space that prevented me from breathing would fully suffocate and kill me. It was pitch black; I could feel the weight from Sarah's enormous body pressing down onto me, preventing me from moving at all, her infinitely heavy arch pushing down onto my chest and extremities. My head was forced awkwardly to it's side, and I could feel her soft hot leather skin warping over most of my face. I was in agony, at any moment my bones might begin to snap. I lingered under her foot for what felt like an eternity and soon the asphyxiation was all I could sense besides the pulse from Sarah's foot, which felt like a minor quake. I instinctively struggled for breath, becoming more and more desperate as the seconds went by, but it was utterly useless, I couldn't move any part of my body. The claustrophobia and diminishing supply of oxygen in my blood was increasing my panic, and my desperate struggle was all occurring instinctively and beyond my control. There was a noise that sounded like a muffled wail around me - like it was coming from somewhere else in the pitch black flat, but I soon came to the horrifying realization that it was my own desperate screams under the tons of Sarah's flesh.

An immediate acceleration forced me down into the floor that was the sole of Sarah's flat, as simultaneously Sarah's foot lifted slightly, giving me enough space to breathe in deeply through my mouth. It was a familiar feeling; she had finally begun walking. The movement appeared to pull me into her hard sole as her arch lifted off me, the small gap of space enough to shift my body. But I had nowhere to go, and I knew what would happen next. Just as quickly as I was pulled down, I felt the vertigo of falling. I was now lifted up as Sarah's arch met me as it returned back down, pushing me into the insole. The fraction of a second that I was forced up into her arch was more than enough time to fill me with dread. All I could sense was the fear of the crushing force of her foot falling upon my tiny naked form, my skin rubbing against the hot grooves of her arch, feeling the contrast between her oily skin and damp dirt clinging to it, which felt like wet rags in on the smooth grooved surface of hot wet leather.

BOOM

The wind was knocked out of me, as if my whole body had been hit by a collapsing wall, the vibrations rapidly shifting me in all directions. I was dazed and struggling for breath, the weight of her foot on my body further pressing air from my lungs I didn't know existed. I was instinctively trying to inhale but couldn't, and Sarah's flesh around my face meant my mouth was full of nothing but her hot skin, the oily seeping into my mouth. The crushing weight from her foot wouldn't have allowed me to expand my lungs anyway. Mercifully, I felt the process begin again and was pulled down into her sole as the arch lifted off of me, taking a breath of sultry air, the oily sheen of liquid from Sarah's skin on my body now noticeable as I was somewhat separated from her foot. As her foot reached it's apex, my acceleration upward sent me into her steaming hot arch, where I felt the dreadful vertigo again, followed by the terror as I fell and felt the massive swirls of her foot fall onto me, the only thing I could sense.

BOOM

I had barely taken a breath when I was slammed by the hot leathery wall again, the air forced from my lungs, my headache increasing. I wouldn't be able to survive long like this, my body battered, the strength leaving me, desperately struggling for breath. It was pitiful. I couldn't move, my whole body trapped under Sarah's arch, like an infinitely huge and heavy couch. It was futile. The back of my right hand had barely any room to slap the bottom of her arch.

I was dragged down again, feeling the vertigo and then the free fall, warm foot sweat mixing with the oil of her skin, burning my eyes and causing me to choke. The awful conditions of the shoe getting hotter and steamier with every step.

BOOM

The wind was knocked out of me once more, and I let out a whimpering wheeze. My eyes were adjusting to the sliver of light coming from the side of Sarah's foot now, I could make out gray specs of dirt wedged into the ripples of flesh that looked like shimmering white water in front of me. I felt pain over my entire body, and my skin pushed into my ribs, which were compressed enough to feel like they would soon break. The space was constricting further, and the folds of her flesh sagged and straightened around me like a white ocean, strange and suspended above me, defying the laws of gravity. Stars were shooting in my eyes and my head hurt, the oil from her skin begin to mix with a sheen of light liquid sweat, pouring hot oily liquid over my entire body, coating my legs, groin, chest, and face. It burned my lips, nose, and eyes, and I found myself struggling just to breathe without it getting in my mouth as it flowed freely from her foot onto me, and even with my mouth closed it tasted like acrid cheese.

I was pulled down into the sole before I continued with my upward acceleration and slammed into her arch. I lingered here in vertigo, giving me enough time to comprehend in terror my naked body about to pulverized again by the flight attendants foot, being incapable of escaping from it as she simply did her job. I screamed pitifully before feeling pushed down by her foot, which would inevitably slam me into the sole of her flat again.

Sarah finally stopped at the back of the plane. She was beginning to prepare the meals for the passengers with the other stewardesses. It would be her job to actually hand out the meals, and the customers could choose between eggs or french toast. Nothing particularly fancy, but enough to satisfy people for the remaining 5 or so hours of flight.

“This is the home stretch – and the slowest part of the flight.” Dianne said aloud to the group.

Most murmured in acknowledgment. Sarah was feeling it too. These long flights were always the worst, and the end seemed to drag on forever.

“Totes. If these flights were like, any longer, I don't know how I would survive.” Sarah said in a somewhat whining tone. “We should seriously get paid more for this”

Dianne laughed. “Paid more? In your dreams sister. We'd be lucky if they gave us an express lane for security.”

Another stewardess chimed in. “I'd just love to have my tiny insoles. Just feeling them under my feet would certainly make these hours of standing more pleasant.”

Sarah studied Dianne, who made eye contact with her before she looked down toward her flat, and then turned back to other stewardess. “That would be lovely. But you know. FAA is worried about tiny smuggling. And no exceptions for us.” Dianne responded casually. To Sarah, it seemed like a genuine response.

The other stewardess turned to her. “You know in New Zealand tinies actually still have human rights? That they actually are being protected by the state? Crazy how backwards some societies are.” She laughed and continued. “Seriously, do you expect me to look out for those bugs when I'm walking?”

She giggled before continuing. “While it's illegal, you can't change the reality of it. Tiny trafficking is apparently extremely lucrative. The fact that it's illegal to have them increases their value. Even enforcing crimes against tinies is difficult when it's hard to know what even happened to the victims.”

The stewardesses continued talking as Sarah stacked food trays in her cart. The talk of tinies and insoles reminded her of the insert in her shoe, and made her smile. She had already forgotten about it. Where the tiny was positioned under her arch made her foot feel remarkably comfortable, as the weight that would normally be distributed under her foot was now being alleviated by the pressure she was applying onto it, making the rest of her foot hurt less. Her feet were sore from the flight already, but she could tell that the insert was already doing wonders for her foot. Her right foot felt sore currently, and she knew from prior experience that her feet at this stretch of the flight would really begin to ache. Her left foot, in contrast, felt quite comfortable. The tiny insert was absorbing much of the weight from her body, lessening the pressure on her feet against the sole of her shoe. She smiled in delight, and shifted her weight somewhat further onto her insert to relieve the stress on her right foot. She could feel the insert more now, getting pressed into the flesh of her arch.

She thought about her earlier talk with Dianne's insert in the bathroom, and while she had gotten a bit carried away, she felt she was doing a great service for Dianne. She was lucky, but the tiny thing clearly wasn't trained yet, so she felt her strategies were appropriate. She knew she risked damaging it over the next few hours, but since the little thing hadn't been crushed already, she knew that as long as she didn't want to deliberately crush it, the worst that would happen is she would break a few bones.

As she stacked more trays she shook her head to herself, knowing that with her training the tiny would soon be in Dianne's shoe, and supporting her in her duty. Doing a friend a favor, and flirting the law like this, was exciting. She hadn't broken in a tiny in a while, and getting one like this would be a special delight, it's potential seemed incredible already. It had the possibility to be under Dianne's foot for years.

In fact, this would be an excellent time to see if her ideas for a training regiment would work. Sarah had been thinking about opening a side business training tinies. Up until this point in her life she'd been too busy and the overhead for the business was too high.

If I could break it in over this 3 day weekend... she thought ...that would be like, some kind of record. I'd know if my program could finally work at creating excellent inserts – and I'd be getting my friend an awesome gift – not to mention the free marketing.

The thought made her excited. By the time we are back in the states, the tiny will never want to be anywhere but under Dianne's toes.

BOOM

I woke up, and before I even attempted to open my eyes, I could feel intense humid heat and hot oily liquid flowing freely onto me, overtaking all my senses. The last pulverizing blow must have temporarily knocked me unconscious. I tried to breathe, but my face was almost completely immersed into her humid leather skin. Pressed against the hard flat insole, thick foot oil flowed over my face, creating a film of liquid around where my mouth met the sole. It flowed slowly from Sarah's foot over my face and body, my face so compressed between her flesh and the insole that the sliver of it which wasn't pressed into either was covered by Sarah's disgusting oil. I couldn't breathe at all. I was suffocating and panicking. Only one of my eyes wasn't completely covered by the hot grooves of Sarah's arch, and the salty foot liquid splashed into it causing a sharp pain.

I don't know how long I hadn't breathed, but I began to convulse – part of my mouth opening in a desperate attempt to breathe, immediately flooding it with this oily liquid. It was slightly viscous, and bits of debris poured in tasting of cheesy salt and dried skin, continuing to choke me. I was starting to drown in this shallow film of foot oil, almost like I was being waterboarded. I couldn't move anything, but I could feel my muscles spasming, shooting pain across my body as they tightened with nowhere to go. It was as if my whole body were tightly cramping at once. With the crud from Sarah's foot caking my face and body, the oily liquid from Sarah's foot continued to seep onto the side of me that hadn't been so completely submerged in it already. It felt hotter than the acrid layer I was mostly pushed into. My vision began to dim.

What was this, the fifth time today I've been drowning in some disgusting foot fluid?

The hot and humid torture device around me shifted, and I felt myself pulled into the floor, Sarah's foot lifted slightly above me. Instinctively, I turned my head upwards, so I was now looking at the white ocean of leather skin above me, and I took a deep breath of sultry air. I only had enough time for a partial breath, before I felt vertigo and Sarah's foot slamming down onto me, cutting off my vision and oxygen, immersing me in the acrid cheesy blackness of her leathery flesh, oil seeping over me as I was slammed roughly into her insole. My mouth was forced open, and dirty oil poured into my mouth, I could taste her skin on my lips, and with nowhere for the liquid to go, it slowly drained down my throat, along with bits of muck that were getting stuck in my teeth, and I instinctively began to gag.

BOOM

The wind was knocked from my lungs, and her foot felt like if an Olympic size pool had collapsed onto me all at once, leaving me dazed. Without any air, I continue to panic in terror, but I couldn't see or move at all, I just felt the the pressure compressing and locking me in place, the hot sweat splashing over the sides of my body and in between my legs and crotch.

“Would you like the Eggs or the toast?” Sarah said from above, her booming voice causing a strong vibrations around me, causing the the hot salty foot liquid to slip around me, my panic increasing in my chest, her weight feeling like I was being pushed deeper into her skin as the pressure painfully increased across my body.

“How about you mam, eggs or toast?” Sarah said again, her godlike voice thundering around me. Her foot oil continued to slowly drain into my throat, and I felt like I had already drank a tall glass of it. The acrid, cheesy oil flowed onto my tongue as my body to continued to convulse.

I began to spasm again from the lack of oxygen, creating awful discomfort when it mixed with the nausea in my stomach. My face was wedged deeply into the warm folds of her moist arch, a thin layer of oil creating a film of detritus like seaweed on my skin. Every time Sarah spoke her voiced vibrated through my body, her pulse continuing to drum me. I was in full blown panic, trying desperately to move, my body convulsing, shooting pain throughout my muscles – only furthering my agony.

Sarah was just beginning to deliver breakfast to her customers. She had to do about 40 rows, which usually took well over an hour, and sometimes longer depending on how finicky the women got and how many questions were asked. Occasionally she needed to restock if too much of one item was chosen over the other. She sighed, and took a deep breath of the stale plane air. She tried to find something to think about instead – the work was boring and she needed a bit of an escape to make the time go by faster.

Sarah turned to the seats towards her left.

“Would you like the Eggs or the toast?” The woman in front of her asked for eggs. She turned to grab the egg breakfast from her cart, and felt a squirming sensation from under the arch of her left foot, reminding her of the insert within her shoe.

“Perfect” Sarah thought. It was incredibly comfortable, the squirming sensation almost felt like a tiny massage.

Dianne is lucky. Sarah thought, focusing on the sensation of the tiny thing rubbing the bottom of her arch. Clearly a natural insert.

The sensation under her arch was not only redistributing the weight of her foot, decreasing the pressure, but also was providing relief to a stress spot.

God clearly created this pathetic creature to be underfoot. She chuckled slightly as she turned to the next customer, who noticed her ecstatic mood.

“You're having a good day” The women said, Sarah's own mood seemed to infect the women with an equally radiant smile.

Sarah grinned back at her. “Just another day in paradise” The two women laughed together.

Sarah was beginning to understand why Dianne seemed to be attached. If you got lucky, and found a good one, they were incredibly comfortable. Still, she knew that most tiny inserts didn't survive very long, so it was important to maintain a sterile relationship with them. After all, it's just an object, whose purpose was to inevitably degrade as it provided comfort for a women's foot. No reason to get attached.

She continued to lean further onto her insert, relieving the stress on her right foot whilst simultaneously increasing the pressure on her stress spot, the tinies body being pressed further into her skin. It felt divine, and she shivered with pleasure.

While Sarah felt wonderful, it hadn't occurred to her that the tiny boy was now being completely suffocated under her foot, and the “massaging” sensation was him writhing in agony as he slowly was being crushed.

Sarah smiled and took a step forward, enjoying the pleasant sensation of her insert cushioning the blows of her footstep, and the weight of her body. Sarah took a breath of cool air as she asked another customer what she wanted for breakfast.

One last thought crossed Sarah's mind on her insert before she went back to work.

I'm the one working here, after all. It's place is below me.

I hadn't breathed in what felt like an eternity. The painful spasms across my body began to lessen as my strength gave out, with no oxygen to power my muscles there was no energy for me to move them. The stars in my vision began to fade, the pain in my head and body began to lessen, and then all I could feel was was the hot wet leather of Sarah's foot, and her pulse vibrating through me.

For a brief moment, it seemed like the only thing in reality, as if all of space and time before and after this was simply Sarah's arch and the crushing weight of it onto me. Even in the dim light that bled through Sarah's flesh, I could make out the grooves on her skin with my one open eye that was only inches away from her foot, the sheen of foot liquid clinging between the gaps of her skin gave the whole thing a glossy look. My only senses were of the hot humid feeling of the infinitely heavy leather pillow covering me, the slamming of her pulse, the cheesy smell and taste of her foot, and the oily foot liquid that dripped off of it, coating me and filling my orifices.

I was abruptly pulled into the shoe, and Sarah's leathery ocean of an arch lifted off me, the dirty oily sheen clinging onto me as I desperately gasped in sultry foot air.

I only had enough time for a breath before I felt the vertigo and the foot slam back into me. I had enough energy to feel awake again, separate from Dianne's foot – and incredible pain across my body. I once again was suffocating, dirty sweat and foot oil pouring down my throat. The process of torture began again, and I slowly began to spasm in pain as the pressure compressed me between the insole of Sarah's flat and her enormous white ocean of an arch, completely unable to move or breath. The weight from her foot felt like I was buried alive, enough constant pressure to squeeze my body so thoroughly all the air was forced from my lungs.

With pain throughout my body, the soft arch of flesh morphed around my skin. The pressure increased, feeling like it might break my bones, the skin was pushed slightly inside of my mouth, my nose completely encased in it. I couldn't feel my body – just pain.

If the liquid dripping from Sarah's foot hadn't completely covered me, I might have been able to distinguish the wet tears in my hysterical crying. However, I was just an insignificant bug in her shoe, just to exist to relieve the stress in her foot.

Pain shot through my body as my desperation caused my body convulsed, I was writhing but not moving, desperate for air.

“Would you like the Eggs or the toast?” I heard Sarah's voice thunder around me.

I wanted to scream, the fight or flight survival instincts from my suffocation entirely taking over from any fear I had of Sarah's wrath. But I couldn't scream. I couldn't do anything. I was wholly at my foot goddesses mercy. So I prayed instead. I prayed to Sarah's foot, I swore to them I would be their slave forever if they just let me breathe.

But the pressure only increased, and the pain became more intense. My convulsions increased in correspondence with the pain, until I had no more energy to spasm, the convulsions diminishing as I lost my strength, and soon I could only feel the thump of Sarah's pulse amongst her hot oily arch around me as the liquid drained down my throat. The pain continued to increase, the pressure sharp across my body, but most painful across my chest. My ribs felt like they might soon collapse, and I started to lose consciousness.

Her foot lifted again, and I found myself gasping for air.

Sarah shifted her weight off of her left foot to take another step forward and went through the motions of delivering breakfast.

“Would you like the Eggs or the toast?” the words came out of her mouth subconsciously.

Instead, she was thinking about the tiny in her shoe. She could feel it rubbing her arch, and it's lips on her sole; the feeling was incredibly pleasant. With her few days off in New Zealand, she started to imagine all the things she could do to train it, and she began to get excited.

She had never expected to have a tiny during a flight. Without her inserts, her feet would ache by this point. With this insert, she could already feel the stark contrast between her two feet, and for an untrained insert already had amazing potential. The tiny below her clearly had an attitude, and if she wanted to thoroughly break him in for Dianne, she might have to impose some harsh measures.

It was for the best, however. If she could break a feisty tiny like Dianne's, it would make an awesome gift for her, she would look cool in the process, and most importantly, she would prove to herself that she had a legitimate training regimen. Dianne and her insert would be living evidence for it. She would consider it a mark of success if she could get the tiny to willingly go under Dianne's foot, and would be even better if it did it on it's own volition.

It was good that the tiny was already hungry. It would make it easier to break it in. The sooner it learned that rest of it's existence was to be under the feet of women, the better. Reorienting his world view around feet would be crucial. It needed to know it was no longer a person, just an object and hunger is quite the motivator.

Still, if there was one thing she learned from other inserts, pain would also have to be part of the process. She looked down at the top of her feet for a second, the plain white skin exposed on top of her flat looked perfectly innocuous. From up here, you couldn't see a difference. But she could feel it easily, her left foot no longer aching with the little thing helping to redistribute her weight.

Might as well start now she thought.

“I'll have the eggs” The women said. Sarah snapped back out of it. She still had a job to do.

The plane was full of women. She hadn't seen a full size man in a long time. New Zealand was a popular destination, in fact, more popular than it had been before Trent's presidency, and it had probably something to do with the minimization trend.

The process had never made it officially to New Zealand. While that meant that there were still full size men there, most of the visitation was simply about male relatives who had gotten out of minimization zones – most from after when they were shrunken.

She gave the tray of eggs to the woman, and her focus shifted back to her feet below her. From here, amongst the buzz of the airplane, the talk of ladies on board, and clatter of trays, she couldn't even hear her own footsteps. They looked like perfectly normal pair of black flats, her white skin healthy looking, with only a faint line of a vein underneath her flesh. Undistinguished and inconsequential.

Her feet felt hot in her shoes, her right foot noticeably sore around the balls of her feet, arch and heel, her calve flexed. Her left foot felt comfortable, her muscles felt relaxed and fresh. There was movement under her arch, a light pressing of movement against her arch getting a knot in her foot.

Remarkable instincts. Sarah thought. The squirming began to lessen, the massaging effect diminishing in strength.

Slacking off already? She thought. Not on my watch, bug.

Sarah was an expert. She began to shift her weight onto the tiny, steadily increasing the pressure, and could feel him being increasingly pressed into her flesh. The pressure on her arch increased from her own weight against the tiny being pushed further into her flesh, but also from a slight increase in movement from below her.

She smiled. It was a good sign. Still some fight left in it. The insert was strong, and it had to be if it expected to remain a solid insert for the rest of it's existence.

Sarah was now convinced that she could break this insert in. One way or the other. By the end, it will either be begging to lick the rot and dirt from under the grooves of Dianne's boots, or in a few days, it would be the end of a slow and painful process that lead to it's disposal.

She took a deep breathe of the cool recycled air, and turned to the next passenger to ask for her selection.

BOOM

“Would you like the Eggs or the toast?” Sarah's voice vibrated through my bones.

I wanted to scream desperately. On top of the routine of torture, Sarah would steadily increase the pressure on me, to a fever pitch that made it feel like my eyes were going to pop out of their sockets, that my lungs and stomach were being pressed into the bones. I was surprised I wasn't dead, and the creaks and spams in his body felt like it was only moments before my bones began to break.

The weight then decreased, moments from being crushed, relieving just enough pressure to prevent me from dying, only to the point that I no longer noticed the pain coursing throughout my body. The heavy weight now only prevented me from moving and breathing. My spasms began to diminish as vision blurred and dimmed.

But then I felt pulled down and the foot allowed me to breathe, only a fraction of a breath of sultry foot air, before Sarah's foot and flat slammed me back into her insole. Her flesh was pressing me into it, covering the top half of my body in her oily foot liquid as my face was completely smothered, the pressure against the hard insole causing a sharp pain across my back.

The weight of her hurt in and of itself, but her arch and the damp sole provided just enough leeway to prevent my eyes from popping out of my socket. Still, each step left me feeling weaker. I'd already swallowed god knows how much of the slightly viscous foot liquid, and on top of everything I was beginning to feel nauseous, the weight from her foot forcing me to puke partially, filling my mouth with the cheesy salty liquid from my stomach every time it slammed on me.

I cried but nobody could hear me, and my thoughts drifted as my consciousness faded in and out, occasionally I'd be pulled back into the shoe by a splash of oil, or by the sharp pain and spasms of my crushed and oxygen deprived body, before all that was left was the feeling of the soft leather ripples on her skin pressing into my naked body, her pulse constant and seeming to get longer, to the point where I wouldn't hear it for so long I was convinced I was dead.

But then the foot lift, leaving me enough time to gasp in the funky sultry air, before I felt vertigo and the foot slammed back on me, leaving me dazed.

BOOM

“Would you like the Eggs or the toast?” Sarah boomed from above.

I could taste her skin in my mouth. The torture was endless.