Big Time Espionage (Chapter 3)

Then this foot, too, was released from its comfy yet overheated purple prison. Just as before, only from an entirely different angle, the towering stranger began to toy with her shoe, temptingly flirting with the possibility of letting it fall completely off, only to thrust back inside at the last second after each risky dip. Over and over, her lively toes batted and splayed against the graying sweat-stained interior of the vessel, while her heel humped its way back and forth across that pliable leather lip. This subtle chaos not only inadvertently threatened Delta, Echo, and Foxtrot with the very real possibility of getting caught beneath that flat once it was finally allowed to tumble over like a timbered sequoia tree, but also made sure they were doused in another invisible downpour of liberated odor. That essence of the giantess’s foot was so richly distilled in the air around them, salty and leathery and pickle-pungent, that it felt to the dizzied threesome of spies like they were almost swimming through a liquid-state form of the stink itself, rather than just gulping it up in lieu of oxygen.

Almost hallucinating now, they all fell on their backs, writhing and believing genuinely that they were drowning in sweat that they hadn’t even touched for real: like the woman had wrung out every scuzzy drop into a jar, plopped the spies inside, and sealed the top. And then at last the woman reared her foot back, letting the shoe descend, just as they’d feared. It landed with a deafening SMACK, only by pure coincidence, the mouth of the flat happened to fit over where the three spies were cowering in sickly revulsion. So while they avoided tanking an impact from such a tremendous falling object, the consolation prize was that Delta, Echo, and Foxtrot were abruptly entombed inside the upside-down pitch-blackness of the giantess’s flopped-over footwear.

In a split second, the concentration of cheesy underfoot murk was amplified for them tenfold. The climate leapt by thirty degrees, at least in their shaky perceptions, and it swiftly felt like the trio was getting hotboxed by a druglike gas-bomb of pure unwashed rankness and toe crevice smut. Even if they had the wherewithal to snap back to coherency now and work on burrowing out from under here, it would’ve been near impossible for such puny beings to do more than make the inverted shoe quiver in place. Yet as it happened, Delta, Echo, and Foxtrot no longer had a desire to get away from her feet at all, nor anything they’d touched. Finally, as more of that stink seeped into them like miniature humanoid sponges – and a few choice droplets of cloudy saltwater plunked down from the insole overhead, splashing right on top of the three overwhelmed spies – they crawled toward the walls of the shoe. Not to try and escape, however, but to stand against it and inhale even heavier. One by one, the teammates pried their tactical masks off their heads, allowing their bared faces to press into the soggy smoothed-down lining of her giant flat’s interior.

Now the only one not currently trapped in some way by the oblivious alien, but not exactly acting of his own accord, Alpha’s judgment was only disintegrating further as he crouched in rapture before that left foot which currently had two of his cohorts smushed like sprinkles into cupcake frosting beneath the heft of her weary sole. Its shape, its enormity, its smell, and even the minutest movements it made to curl those marshmallowy plump toes all held his interest as nothing ever had. Aversion to the tangible filth of it, both wafting stinkily in the air and visibly greased on her flesh, still hung in the back of Alpha’s mind, but that awareness had become so secondary now that it almost didn’t matter next to his growing obsession. The only feeling he could ever compare it to was the first time he stepped into a spaceship and saw the star-speckled galaxy whizzing by outside the window, but even that wonderment was a pittance relative to the bizarre joy he derived just from staring continuously at this perfectly-ordinary rather-dirty undeniably-gorgeous female foot which just so happened to be many multitudes larger than his entire body.

So great was Alpha’s fixation, snuffing up throatfuls of putrid brine-refined noxiousness and tremoring with amazement at the sight of tender furrows texturing her sole flesh whenever she slightly raised that foot off the ground, that he hardly paid attention to its opposite just beyond. Though eventually he had no choice except to acknowledge the giantess’s right foot, once it playfully yet unconsciously dropped that flat atop his other three teammates, and then came barreling back toward him. It could’ve been serendipity or bad luck, depending on which half of Alpha’s psyche was consulted, yet by the slimmest of chances, the lead spy was caught suddenly in a gooey sweat-porous embrace with the grubby undersides of the purple-maned worker’s third and fourth toes, just as her foot swung backwards and soothingly flared those digits. Like Beta and Charlie, he was spared from injury by this surprise collision thanks to the pulpy liquid-softened terrain of her shoe-cooped foot flesh. But as the woman’s toes clenched around Alpha’s body, trapping him in that tight coffin-shaped enclosure with an arm and a leg pinched up in the grimy cleavage between them, it was hard to tell heartbeat-to-heartbeat whether the next scrunch from her toes might wad him up so tautly that he burst into a cherry-crimson splotch.

To and fro, the giantess’s right foot swung like a pendulum beneath her chair, and all the while kept Alpha coiled in a slippery fluid-dribbling hug between those bulgy digits and the northernmost shelf of her sole. Her toes didn’t squeeze hard enough to inflict pain or breakage on him, at least not yet. But the turbulent roller coaster ride of her distractedly swaying foot combined with such a claustrophobic clench of flesh and sweat was plenty to keep the spy’s head spinning near the brink of a breakdown. From every angle, he felt the perspiration-doused terrain of peachy print-lined skin pumping and pulsating against his body. Thirty seconds after her foot had scooped him off the floor and refused to let go, Alpha’s tactical gear as well was sodden through with pheromonal stew. He was breathing in nothing but the miasmic odor sourced directly from between those toes, and even felt some of the slopped-in sweat greeting his lips as he was rocked and rolled through the air just above the floor.

When that salty elixir tingled at his tongue, though, Alpha didn’t spit it out, and even opened his mouth wider, as his earlier fascination with her foot blossomed to total attraction. Ripping away his own mask, too, the diminutive spy finally gave in to a desire he hadn’t even realized he was holding onto until an instant before he succumbed to it. He stuck out his tongue, and began greedily kissing and licking at whatever puffy grit-glued contour of under-toe brawn he could press his mouth against like a massive lollipop. It burned his throat at first like a fiery swallow of cheap liquor, but the flavor – however objectively squalid – redoubled his addiction with every succulent splatter of sweat he lapped directly from her musky skin. By the time Alpha felt half his belly filled with toasty glottal corn-chippy filth sucked clean off this narrow pocket of giantess’s foot which he forcibly inhabited, that satisfaction and need had spread to every part of his body. Pleasurable shockwaves of encouragement flowed to his extremities as he squirmed and snogged at her digits, culminating in an electric burst of brain-bending excitement that made his tactical pants tent up conspicuously between the legs.