“Oh man, I slept well,” I say to no one *yaaaawn* “Shit, I hope I didn't oversleep.” groggily I roll over and nab my phone off the nightstand.

3:22am

“Fuuuuuuuck, slept well my ass,” I roll back over in a sudden sleepy rage trying not to think about how I woke up a few hours before my alarm. I almost never seem to fall back asleep from something like this and if I do, I always wake up waaaay sleepier than before. 

Meh, “F” it I guess, I’ll just lay here and see what happens.

As I lay there trying to think about nothing, which is always when the weird sleepy thoughts fizzle to the surface of my brain, I started to recall some of yesterday's events at the office; the cafe downstairs of the big corporate building to be precise. We have a small single flat top cafe you could walk up and order from. There was only ever a few people on staff, usually one person on the flat top cooking and passing out orders, one or two in back prepping stuff and the other was cashing orders at the register.

I was there grabbing some breakfast and while I was waiting/staring lazily at my phone for my order I noticed a little movement out of the corner of my eye. 

Two women walked into the cafe and were mulling over the options available on a little pinned up menu near the entrance.

I could see one of them clearly, a little up there in age, maybe late thirties or early forties, but still looking real good. A little more on the plushy curvy side due to the desk job but, I am sure no one would complain. Very light Auburn colored hair I think, and in some basic casual work attire, black heels, black blouse, etc. Our place of work has a pretty lax dress code for being so corporate. Jeans and T were all you really needed but, they just say, dress your part for the day and all is ok. She probably had a few meetings coming up from the looks of her.

But, the woman up front was not my focus.

(...

You see, since we’ll be taking this interesting jaunt together, I have to let you in on this, a... this little “issue” I have. For a... some unknown reason, I just have this intense like... Love... for feet, female feet, I mean. Nothing personal fellas, and well, I’m not very fond of this love if I’m honest as feet can smell and sweat something fierce regardless of gender. I always found it to be an awkward and embarrassing brain glitch. I mean, I can’t perceive how you’d just tell some beautiful lady that you’d like to worship their feet?... Well, I don't know, maybe that's just me. I feel it's kinda gross and wish I could drop it for sanity’s sake but... brains right. 

Its as if you have control of what you're thinking at first right? Sorta like, “oh look, a pretty girl! I wonder if she’s smart or what shows she likes, maybe I should say hi,” then this little testosterone creep kicks a door into your consciousness out of nowhere rubbing his front bump and spouting off, “Oooo, lady. Pretty. I wonder what her feet look like, can I see them from here, can I guess her shoe size, wonder if they smell a little... or a lot??” … 

*Sigh*… If only it could be muted or better yet, removed maybe?… Well sadly, since it can’t seem to be helped, all one need do is feed it a couple thoughts or images a day to keep it at bay. Which is actually quite easy to pull off thanks to the internet… so many creative folks nowadays ;)

Anyways, I digress people, let's get back on course with the real story here. It's probably long winded enough...

…)

The lady in front was blocking my view of the woman she came with. I could see she had blonde what I think is, yeah, wavey yet almost curly hair, but that was about it. Well, except for the shoe level view of course. That was pretty easy to “see” at this angle. 

She is wearing these all black, diamond textured, low rimmed soft soled flats. Ones with mouths that dip low enough to just barely see the gaps of her toes and a thinner stretchy band across the creamy tops of her feet to keep them secure. Skechers I believe, walking flats of some sort and they may have been around the block a few times with the color looking a little faded and the soles a little scuffed and worn. 

Oh, these are probably her office shoes, ya know. Like a second pair of comfy beaters so she wouldn’t need to be in whatever fashionable yet uncomfortable heels were in season or say, snow boots that get too hot once you're in the office from a powdery winter day.

Ya know, now that I think about it, seems most women never wear socks with those types of flats and the material has got to get your feet all hot and sweaty for sure. Being some unknown polyester-esque blend of being hot enough to make you sweat and breathable enough to make you think its cooling the sweat it caused; Which must have been the case here since she began to lift her knees. Popping her heels out of the shoes fairly clingy hold. 

Left then right, left then right then left and a pause in the air. She was flexing her toes as the shoe material attempted to accommodate her movements, bulging and bending to their whims. Flapping the back of the shoe against the base of her heel, in clearly a fanning type motion. Definitely trying to air them out a bit and boy were they monsters, gotta be size 11’s at least.

I stare secretly as this mystery blonde repeats the fanning process on the peds I deeply wished to get a full view of when suddenly... plop, the right shoe drops to the ground. 

Revealed are five beautifully painted toes in a vibrant orange, perfectly sized to match the slightly larger, wider, and plushier foot. Wow yeah, she seemed to have some pretty damn big feet from what I can see, but I was always a bad guesser when it came to sizes. 

I could also see that there was a slight sheen to her foot which meant I was doubly right. It was damn steamy in those walking flats and I bet if we were somewhere chilly you’d see it slowly billowing out like hot breath on a cold morning.

Then...

Snap back to faux-reality as my name is called, apparently a second time by the cook, as I peel my eyes away from what I at least, and potentially others, would have thought was well... was a very tantalizing view. 

Hoping the two ladies standing at the menu and the girl that just made my order thought I was just lost in my phone. I quickly slide up to the little gap between two glass warming stations and reach for my food resting on the metallic counter. The hairnet wearing, lightly freckled and shiny red faced redhead dabbed her brow with a sleeve. From the heat and grease of the flat top it's no wonder she looked like she ran a marathon as she pushed over the food to me with one of her eyebrows raised. 

Smiling, I do a little thank you like nod and turn away, rotating in the mystery blondes direction hoping to get one last look and maybe see the face that owned such magnificently large and yet well proportioned wide feet with such a playful nail polish but, to my bewilderment... she was gone. 

(Bathroom? Maybe… Weird...)

Her friend was still here so, I do a quick glance around the room not finding anyone else other than the addition of the older gal at the register staring intently at her phone.

Miffed and accepting that I missed my chance to see her, I head to the register.

I hear someone say something behind me and not thinking it was for me I kept on course when suddenly, I feel a hand on my right shoulder and I get spun around to face… the Cook?

Taking in her younger and slightly grungier appearance I note that she was freckled a little bit more than I originally thought. A slightly rounder face with athletic qualities and not much need for makeup, probably on a partial sports scholarship and still needing to work some of her way through college. Think of an athletic girl with easy access to fries; toned and up-kept muscles hidden under a nice thin layer of soft plushy fat that's just adding to the fitness curves hidden by her clunky cook attire. Not for me to suggest or say it’s right, but dress up as a famous burger franchised freckled redhead and she could easily make more money somewhere on the internet.

(But wait... wait, wait, wait... this wasn't part of the memory, what's going on here? Something feels off about this whooole thing. I mean, the edges of my vision are going all fuzzy.)

“Hey, I saw you just now mister.” Says the cute redheaded cook very matter of factly.

(Who says mister?? And I’m 25!!)

I look around a little nervous and begin to slowly back away. I try to say, “I don't know what you mean” but… nothing seems to come out of my mouth... so, I just stare at her even more nervous than before. Inching further away, hoping to get out of this sudden nightmare like social situation. 

The Wendy’s cosplaying chef starts up again, this time louder and more abrasive, gesturing towards the darker haired woman, “I said, I saw you just now! You were staring at that ladies feet, like super perverted hard core staring!...”

“What was that!?” the auburn haired woman says quizzically, having overheard and now moving to approaches us. 

I see the redhead crack an evil smile at me. 

(Yeah no, this was deeefinitely new…)

Roughly grabbing a handful of my sweater and turning to the other woman, “This one here,” She says nodding her head at me with intense conviction,” he was staring at your friend's feet as she was airing them out. It was like a real intense staring too; for sure it was some kind of weird perverted trance from the way his eyes almost rolled out of his head. Don’t you know this is a workplace pervo.” She shakes me a bit, making me feel meek and fully at her mercy.

(Stupid dream body… MOVE! SPEAK!)

The other woman, overly shocked by what she just heard, reaches towards me snatching another fistful of my sweater absolutely ensuring no escape for me.

“Is that true!” she barks into my face which by now was likely beet red. 

I give a shaky grin, shrugging my shoulders up in the classic “I don’t know” gesture and she begins to really fume. Using her free right hand she rips something out of her purse and I feel a sharp prick in my left thigh.

(Wait… Did she just… mmhmm… yeah so, she just ah… she just stabbed me… with a needle... wiTH A NEEDLE! HOLY SHIT!)

Ripping the needle out from my thigh, I immediately begin to try and silently pry myself from their clutches. My face twisted in a soundless scream as the two girls then roughly toss me to the ground. They practically gator wrestle me to the point that only the redheaded cook, with suddenly appearing lawsuit worthy pigtails, was needed on top of me to keep me pinned.

Arms locked behind my back, soft yet strong knees pressed against them and a firm athletic and lightly calloused hand keeping my face on the cold tile ground looking off to my left, right cheek mashed down. 

Two black felt high heels step into view. They shift to face me and I crank my eyes as much to my left as they could go. I see a faint outline of the Auburn haired woman against fluorescent lights casting her face in shadow with only the gleam off of her eyes being visible. Hair changing to other natural colors rapidly, black, blonde, red, brown.

She lifts her right foot setting the sharp toed heels tip very close to my mouth diverting my attention from the freaky hair show, “So, you're a foot perv huh?” she asks as she lifts and rests the toe and sole of the shoe against my cheek, clicking the heel against the floor and my mushed mouth, gently grazing my forcefully pursed lips as she does so.

I try and twist my head away, but I can't move and this angry chef seems to be getting heavier by the second. 

(As a matter of fact, the shoe is too... and it’s getting… bigger?)

The once auburn hair shadow faced woman laughs when my struggles suddenly stop and a look of confusion hits my face. Pulling her heel back, gingerly resting it near its partner. Drawing my eyes back up to her trippy visage, slowly she bends down having locked my gaze with those glinting eyes obscured by darkness.. She holds that for a moment, letting me contemplate the scary truth of my dwindling size

She speaks...

“If you haven't already noticed you sick little perv,” venom in her voice, “you’re starting to shrink down to a size you deserve to be. A disgusting bug.” She seems to pick up the syringe like object near me and continues, “There is nothing you can do to stop this and I want you to know that when the serum finishes with you, you’ll be about a quarter of an inch tall.” 

(Fuck you lady… seriously!?)

My eyes wide with fear start losing their view of her as the cooks right hand begins to slowly cover up more of my face and head thanks to the shrinking.

The once auburn haired woman now seeming to really enjoy the look of terror in my eyes decides then, to inform me of what's to come.

“You should be done shrinking in about 2 more minutes, hopefully before my friend gets back, actually,” she looks to the cook whose hand now holds my head like a soft ball to the floor, as the gap between her legs was no longer able to even touch my steadily shrinking body. “Go stall her for a minute will you please? She should be down the hall and I can handle this little prick from here.”

“Sounds good to me ma’am,” she lifts the mammoth sized soft hand off of me and I roll to my back, eyes closed, holding my somehow not very sore noggin, trying to rub away some kind of imaginary pain from all that pressure. Before I even get a chance to finish processing this with the cook off of me a pungent smell hits my nose. My eyes rack open to behold the crazy woman's shoeless nylon clad foot poised above my still dwindling frame.

As I’m just about to lift my arms in anticipation of it dropping on me, the ball of her foot was already there. Hot and sultry, cheesy and sharp, her toes wriggle just under my chin playing with my neck and torso, wafting their aroma around gleefully. Most of my upper body under the pad and arch with her heel on the tile below my zipper and between my legs. 

(Seems “having me” meant pinning me under her gorgeous and scary foot?)

“Now where was I, ah yes, I was explaining my plans for you.” She says in a happy tone, pressing against the underside of my chin with the polished nylon covered nail of her curled in big toe, “Once my friend gets back, I am going to wait for her to, again, air out her big whiffy feet which shouldn't take long, I'm sure, especially with the shoes she’s wearing.” she states as her toes flex and rise up, *SMACK* - ing my chin as they passed above me painfully. I could see now that I had gotten small enough for them to…

*WHAM* 

The underside of her nylon clad toes mash into my unprotected face trying to find a good grip around my head. Painfully rubbing the wafty cringe inducing fabric over my face in attempts to better cram my ever shrinking nose into their smelliest and sweatiest crevices.

(Oh FUCKIN DAMN the smell! I can’t, I like feet, but fuck me… this isnt what happened yesterday!)

I continue to struggle, my little face  crammed in between her nyloned toes making me look like I was a poltergeist pressing against a wall in a pained grimace. Up above me she giggles at the tormented plight of the little man in her sights caught below her steamy foot,  “Then I’m going to toss your little bug sized body into those old sweaty flats of hers the first chance I get, without her noticing of course.” She starts to giggle again at seeing my struggling little face protruding up against the nylon having far too much fun after successfully working my head up between the gap of her big and second toe. “Oh and here's a thought, once I get you properly under her foot and food in my belly. I think it'll be time for a little power walk around the office with my bestie from work.” ;)

She laughs evilly at her last statement and then with focused intent, she begins to really press against my body with her foot making it impossible to breath. Squeezing her now monstrous sized muggy toes onto my nose and the ball of her foot onto my chest I hear her say, “It’ll be better if I knock you out now before you get too small, I don't want any “missteps” ruining my plans for you. Seeing as how this will be the last we speak,” her words starting to fade with the lack of oxygen, “I just wanted to say, farewell and have a nice life living what I am certain is your smelly dream come true, you little perverted bug.” The pressure triples and I pass out... 

*SNAP*

I shoot up in bed, sweating and gasping for air. My alarm blaring at its loudest like it’d been going for awhile. I take a second to make sure I'm okay and that I am in my room. 

With a sigh of relief knowing that the all too vivid semi-lucid dream wasn't, in fact, real. I turn my eyes to stop the alarm.

“OH SHIT, I OVERSLEPT!” and just like that my sense of relief was replaced with overwhelming stress and anxiety yet again. 

“Shit shit shit, I gotta go!” I exclaim, slapping on jeans and a t-shirt while rushing out the door. Trying to think up any decent excuses for the tardiness all while racing to the office.