Big Time Espionage (Chapter 4)

Once Alpha’s priorities had shifted in this way, being the member of the team who’d hung on the longest to his natural faculties, their mission’s chances of proceeding without further incident (if not total failure) went down from miniscule to nonexistent. With three of them marooned under a makeshift sauna of the giantess’s upended flat, while the other trio was smushed in varying degrees of intimacy against her mondo-scaled bare peds, the spies’ usual hardy tolerance against distractions or obstacles to their goals became steadily eroded, until all of their thoughts had drifted entirely away from their original primary intent here. Now, all six men could fixate upon nothing except mind-numbingly enslaving thoughts of this Xartanian’s feet in every element: their size, their shape, their color, their texture, their weight, their aroma, and their flavor. Of course, the otherworldly woman herself still had no notion of what was transpiring down at the floor around her shed shoes like a bad ayahuasca trip, as she happily carried on waving through the ever-shifting holographic interface at her desk above. Meanwhile her lower extremities idly busied themselves – almost as if they had minds of their own – in a manner that soon wreaked utter havoc upon a team of six tactical specialists who, before today, had never encountered an alien stronghold they couldn’t crack into and rob blind.

The ponytailed titaness’s naked right foot, having swooped and swayed for three solid minutes without unclenching her toes, finally depressurized those moistened digits with a relaxing spread, as her heel thumped to a halt against the ground. A discombobulated Alpha had been squeezed so profoundly there that he didn’t immediately come unstuck from her flesh, instead remaining tangled in a humid sweaty embrace with the buttery crevice between two thick shafts, gasping dreamily while the sensation returned to his limbs. When his amorously crumpled quarter-inch frame did at last unpeel from that wedged posture, it wasn’t necessarily by his own choice, but purely the splaying of her toes and resumed access to cooler air. He plunked to the floor below in a haze, mildly achy from the intensity of that sweltering toe hug, but aware only of his amplified appetites.

When Alpha looked back up at her overarching monument of a bare foot, slender and shapely and mighty, it was with the combined starry-eyed reverence of a zealot meeting their prophet, and a virgin crossing paths with their favorite porn star. His loins throbbed and his throat felt parched for more of that luscious cheek-stinging saltwater libation, not to mention the piping-warm ripeness of leathery-washed lint odor which had accosted his olfactory senses so keenly while he was mashed face-first into the source. Even now that he was separated from her foot, and had a wide-open opportunity to high-tail it for his life, Alpha was in no hurry – not thinking of his own safety, that of his team, or about their long-forgotten objective. All he wanted now was another seductive tango with the plush yet firm terrain of that curvy crease-textured behemoth foot, to wrap himself against its damp pinkish terrain, and snort up multiple lungfuls of that whiffy sweet-and-sour fog.

Just then, as the giantess’s destructively elegant right foot took a break from its frivolous to-and-fro midair rampage with her heel mounted to the floor and toes jubilantly flexed above, that previously hibernating left-side beast sprang back to life. It shuffled forth against the ground, curling her digits and gingerly grinding her instep. This of course abraded Beta and Charlie to the point of shaking them partially from their sense-deprived reveries, as they were still nonlethally squashed beneath the shadowy movement-restricting heft of her vast sole. Having just spent several minutes receiving a dose of the same spellbinding stink and unintentional close-contact fondling, however, both spies were in far better moods now than when they were initially stamped down here, unbeknownst to the towering worker herself. Like their four compatriots, their initial disgust had transformed quickly, thanks to a smothering helping of that pungent essence, into an attraction that bordered on addiction. So when the giantess’s foot unknowingly scraped them free from where they’d been plastered to that puttied arch underbelly, Beta and Charlie’s shared instinct was to cling onto her like ticks, still shivering and huffing from the alkaline heat.

The giantess’s left ped didn’t begin pendulum-swooping like its twin, but instead dug the ball of her foot heavily against the ground just beyond where they laid, spreading those bulbous toepads for gripping friction, while elevating her heel as far into the air as her nearly S-bent sole curvature would flexibly allow. Then she began to heel-pump the air, repeatedly raising and lowing the backend of her foot as if hitting an invisible whack-a-mole, while those toes visibly pulsed and turned rosier from the subtle exertion. This left Beta and Charlie sprawled in the playfully bouncing shadow of their accidental conqueror’s muggy foot, with that same ruddy peach wrinkle-thick underside which had just been squished upon them so unerringly now displayed in rapidly heaving motion. The quarter-inch-tall teammates exchanged a bleary look at one another, but almost seemed to stare right through each other like ghosts, before their gazes drifted inevitably back up to that monolithic foot, and particularly her once-ponderous heel swiftly battering the thin air just above their heads. They drank in the fascinating sight of every pore, every flesh dimple, every callused skin cell, and every foamy crumb of flat insole dust gummed to the surface of her body by sweat. Even while her foot was moving so hyperactively, dipping and arching her massive bare heel fast enough that such details might’ve blurred, the overwhelming effect of that pheromonal cocktail on the spies’ senses allowed them to see everything in crystal clarity and perceived slow motion.

And what they saw only deepened that magnetic allure. Both Beta and Charlie scrambled to their haunches, crawling half-drunkenly closer toward the giantess’s deeply sloped arch, even while that heel was threatening with each airborne plunge to come crashing all the way back to the ground, where the impact just might be heftier than the one they’d already endured. Neither man cared or thought of such risks now, however. At last they did as the other four had already done and ripped their facemasks off, so that the steaming bouquet of sticky undersole raunch dominating the atmosphere beneath the titanic alien’s desk could now reach their nostrils and lips unencumbered. This only mesmerized them more quickly into action. As if their limbs were being puppeteered by that salty radiance itself, the duo scampered apart from one another, operating on pure impulse. Charlie made his way to the front of the giantess’s foot, and bowed himself before the relatively-still altar of those five juicy globed toes acting as anchors, while her heel teasingly buoyed in back. Beta hunkered even deeper into the shade of the sole, where the toasty wind of her foot breathed its misty stench over him every split-second, thanks to so much up-and-down activity. Both open-mouth gulped that rugged shoe-wetted redolence, practically going cross-eyed from the combination of stifling scent and punchy pheromones, and began to trace their shaking hands over their tactical gear, stripping off the layers piece by piece.