Matt considered sprinting yet again, but thought better of it. She'd only catch him, grind him into the carpet for a few minutes as a game, then drop him into her shoe all the same. Granted, at his new size, he seemed to be more durable and capable of handling incredible force, but it could still hurt. He was learning his place, which was frightening to him; the man crawled forward with regret into the waiting mouth of the shoe.
"That's my good boy!" Sarah cheered as she pushed her foot inside and let the three-incher smush under her creamy sole flesh. "Gosh, you really do like being in there so much, don't you? Well, Mommy likes it too."
Regret, as well as the weight of the eighteen-year-old's titanic appendage, mounted inside the ballet flat. Matt positioned himself as best as he could to minimize the rhythmic pulsing of Sarah's all-consuming sole. With each step, it was as if the man was being absorbed into a profound heartbeat, transferred via the ceiling of sweet-smelling, crease-laden skin.
Sarah made her way outside the house and down the block. Nearing the metro, her feet were already losing the comforting blanket of perfume aroma. Maybe Matt was too used to it now, or maybe the springtime humidity was just that oppressive. Sarah's feet were toasty, almost numbingly so, and she was barely on the train en route to the pizza parlor. The sole ceiling wasn't wet yet, luckily, just heavy and warm. Matt hoped it would last.
Twenty minutes later, Sarah's march halted, and she merely stood upon her little pet for what felt like ages. Talking was heard above: a calm, kind young male's voice, and the distinct chattery glee of Sarah. This was different than how she usually trod on him; ordinarily, she winnowed her slender weight into the balls of her feet to relieve the fragile man of her mass, but right now, Sarah was shifting her balance from one side of her instep to the other. Indeed, she seemed nervous, like she said.
Matt groaned. He fought to avoid the rocking pressure of the teen's meaty foot flesh alternately flexing and tightening with the strain of her girlish anxiety. There was nowhere to crawl fast, though, and the blubbery friction of Sarah's clay-like sole kept Matt pretty well stuck. If only they'd just sit down and order a damn pizza.
The passage of the meal was tedious for Matt, as he was made to listen to the two awkward lovebirds making small talk and tittering about random school events. Sarah's joyous laughter punctured the muted darkness under her foot quite often. But at least her weight was shifted off of Matt while the pair ate. He even tried to use his chance to climb up under Sarah's toes, where the weight wasn't as heavy, but the girl instead took this as a chance to play, and made her digits ball and flick around Matt's helpless form; all the while, she carried on her conversation with Bobby above like nothing strange was happening.
After the pizza, the pair made their way to the movies by train again. Matt waited out the event patiently, but he was starting to worry; the muggy evening air was turning Sarah's skin from warm to humid, and a few beads of gooey perspiration had formed at intervals across her rubbery sole. In the theater bathroom, Sarah arched her sole out of the shoe just high enough to peek under and see Matt. She waved her fingers in a princess-like fashion.
"This is going great, Boogie!" she whispered. "He's so cool and nice and I like him even more now. I wasn't sure before, but I think he's definitely gonna try to kiss me after the movie's over when we leave, and I'm gonna do it! God, I'm still sooooo nervous, but at least I have you. I know it'll be okay! Now, say bye-bye to your Mommy for now."
With that, Sarah's sole molded itself back around Matt's helpless body, and the moist darkness resumed. But at least the movie offered another break from the weight of a giant feminine foot repeatedly sandwiching Matt's body into the flaky insole. Sarah even crossed her leg over the opposite knee, which completely alleviated the weight; unfortunately, it also caused the three-inch man to slide all around the slippery interior whenever the girl casually tilted her ankle.
When the movie ended, Sarah and Bobby rose with the rest of the viewers to exit the theater. The girl's steps were measured yet almost stumbling now, like she was simultaneously terrified and elated of the destination. Though Matt couldn't see her face now, he could easily picture the look of earnest excitement on her cute face as she prepared for the very first kiss of her romantic young life.
A pause came when they reached the outside. More exchanging of words, and then Sarah's foot arched slightly. She leaned onto the ball of her foot, with Matt smeared into the incline of her sole. Her skin quivered with anticipation and pubescent need. Then, a dramatic pause, probably timed specifically by the girl, and the familiar sound of puckered lips sounded from above. The kiss.
And Sarah's foot practically gushed with sweat. Like her skin was waiting until this moment to unleash the stress-deluge. It sponged all around the gritty walls of the ballet flat, and especially Matt, washing into his nostrils and throat. Writhing and coughing for air only served to increase the effect. There was no getting out of swallowing several cups of his "Mommy's" nervous, fruit-perfume-flecked, toejam-tainted sweat. The kiss was enduring for a full muscle-tightening minute, and with every passing second of Sarah and Bobby's adolescent lip lock, Matt was suffering in the mushy stew of his cheerful owner's shoe. With each smack of her sole, the tiny man was borrowed between the grainy insole and the putrid, oil-oozing mountain of teenage foot, glued off and on.
He could only hope Sarah learned to get over her nerves for future dates, or he might just drown in her shoe the first time she wanted to try a French kiss.