Unknown and Unlucky (Chapter 5)

Reeling in the silence after another scorching round of verbal picking-apart, I considered her what-if, and came very close to concluding that I would’ve been better off having my skull stoved in by a clumsy and colossal heel. At least it would be quicker and far more painless.

            Especially if I was understanding whoever-the-fuck-this-was correctly, meaning she intended to make me into a long-term plaything. She was right, too, that I didn’t at all enjoy her version of games. I’m all for exploring in the bedroom, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, but this occasion could’ve even been hot in some twisted way if she was instead using that surgical sensitivity of hers to dip my rod over and over into a stuffy yet clay-pliable sole wrinkle curved like an ocean wave lapping the shore, rather than using that expertise to squeeze me dry of life-force. If she could press down with precisely the correct pressure to asphyxiate a man smaller than her pinky toe, then that had to mean she had the talent too for probably the best larger-than-life footjob on planet Earth, and knowing that was almost as painful as my basically-inevitable biting the dust after she tired of breath-playing me under her ped.

            “Well, now that we’ve gotten nice and acquainted, and you’ve had all your questions answered as best as I can answer them, maybe it’s time you took a little nap to relax before the real fun starts. How does that sound, you skeevy little creep?”

            I doubted this question, simultaneously giddy and venomous, was anything but rhetorical, and I had this confirmed when, long before I had the chance to reply, the stranger’s stockinged foot bore down at breakneck pace, much faster than before. In an instant I was again ground flat as paper under the ruffling ridges of her nylon, more aggressively this time, until to my astonishment, I realized the girl had me in the equivalent of a sleeper hold, despite using a foot large enough to fit a couple hundred of me beneath it and still smash us all to paste in a single blow. My oxygen stores ran out exponentially faster this time, especially after so little time for R&R following the first trauma, and I succumbed to woozy void in mere seconds.

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            Considering how fine a line the stranger had shown between turning me to cherry juice and curtailing my air, only to step on me at twice the speed right after, I was certain now I was waking up to the afterlife rather than a fake-out dream, since if I was ever going to recover up from a nightmare, surely choking underfoot would’ve been enough to do it. Which meant all this was real, and she’d probably just gotten bored inside ten minutes of dominating me in mind, body, and spirit inside her shoe. Yet here I was, groggily returning to consciousness with what felt like all my limbs and even bones intact, though I was rather achey with bruises. But alive, for some reason.

            Of course right after this revelation came one almost as happy, which was that my wrists and ankles were no longer strapped down, and there wasn’t an insole pressing into my shoulders and hips. Instead, I was couched upon far-downier fabric more like a summer hammock, free to move my arms and legs amongst the tangled netting. My relief at being “liberated” was cut off here, then, at the realization I was not only lying on a bedding of stretched-out stocking threads, inside the tubed hollow rather than beneath it, but that I was not alone in here.

            I’d become so accustomed to the threat of a monumental foot hovering over me after my last exchange with the faceless woman before she conked me out cold, I’d actually missed the fact that the fleshy bulk of her sole was now far closer than before, so near that it was just a hairsbreadth away from another immortal pulverization, shoving and twisting me against the divot-laden rawness of her fragrant arch skin. In retrospect, it made me feel foolish not to have noticed the giant naked foot floating over me, but it hadn’t moved at all since I awoke, either, resting in space like a pleasantly soft and elegantly sculpted sunlit-peach cliff side which had always existed there. Just as she’d vowed, there was nothing between us now. The woman had taken me out of my leather chains only to place me in an even more constricting jailhouse, within her stocking.

            Perhaps the other reason I hadn’t noticed her foot in the nylon enclosure with me at first, either, despite the detail of her skin cells and muted pores, was the fact that it had enlarged. Again. Having already become so deliriously small under her, and not even seen another part of her body aside from her soles distilled through granular stocking, I had no point of context for her true grandeur aside from an even more humongous landscape of foot skin, characterized by long rippling dunes for wrinkles and tender checkered imprint-lines in the terrain from when her nude garment was pulled tight. Once I noticed the change, though, it couldn’t be ignored, as much of a nothing as I’d become to her, and specifically under her. That foot had at least doubled in scale relative to me, which meant, at best, I was a quarter of an inch tall. Probably less.

            “Hey, it’s even easier to feel you now that you’re closer to the action,” the giantess announced, as though cued by my existential stewing at this second shrinkage. “I had my doubts I’d still feel it all, considering how small you got. But there’s your cute little breaths, huffing and wheezing so gentle on my poor tired foot. Count your blessings, that’s the only thing about you that’s cute. And don’t go blaming me for this change, either. That’s all on your body. The way it works, I guess, is that when you choke, as in enough to end you, your body diverts energy to keep you alive, but at the cost of… well, you can figure it out, can’t you? And down you go. Kind of nifty, huh? Might be a useful thing for regular people to have working on them, and not just the tiny foot freaks. Then again, I’m pretty sure I’d rather be dead than be as small as you. Yep, now that I think about it, I’m fine just the way I am. And so are you. Well, not quite. I’m sure you’ll be even tinier by the time you stop being fun enough to keep around down there. So hopefully you put up a better effort next time and convince me not to press your “off” switch again, or otherwise, you’re liable to shrink so small you get lost, and then you’re not really my problem anymore.”

            I’d gotten over most of the shrunken shocks the first time, so having these new insanities made known now wasn’t quite the heart-stopper of before. I simply accepted her words, just as a stranded sailor must weather the umpteenth wave that might finally deep-six him.