RealisVere (Chapter 2)

Halim smiled and shivered, as usual ignoring the seed of disappointment he felt at knowing his actual spouse would never say such a thing to him for real. Of course she couldn’t, since no one alive had a clue about his kinks. And ironically, tightly bottled as Halim kept his desires while out in the real world, his ability to live them out here in raunchy secret only heightened the pleasure. With that in mind, he fully embraced his perfect unreality, as had become his nightly post-work ritual.

“This… is all I ever want. All I ever think about,” Halim truthfully admitted to the beautiful virtual skyscraper of his spouse.

“Well, then, what are you waiting for?” she giggled, nibbling the corner of her lip, then pointed at the floor.

Halim obediently turned his head back down from its vertical pitch, and to his heartrate-jumping delight, saw that Chaima was automatically unsheathing her now-enormous feet from those brown slippers, first one then the other, so that her broad-soled caramel-complected size-11 peds were rendered nude on the floor before him. However, exciting as it was for him to see those mouthwatering wiggly-toed twins in the flesh again, like always, something else was even more invigorating to Halim. Virtual Chaima had actually remembered what he wanted, without him even needing to ask. Every time he used his at-home rsVR, repeating versions of these same scenarios with new tweaks to both sort out technical issues and also gratify his fetishes from fresh angles, his digital world and the subjects therein “understood” more about him, sometimes even anticipating his instincts ahead of his own conscious mind. It was amazing to witness, affirming of his genius – not to mention extremely titillating.

“Yes, Love,” Halim said, for one last moment just admiring his wife’s large shapely slipper-stuffy feet from afar, then practically hurled himself toward them. Chaima snickered affectionately again at his enthusiasm as her three-inch spouse, one of Hyperion’s brightest stars and a titan of future tech the world over, used his greatest innovation for the primary purpose he’d created it in the first place: subjugating himself at the feet of a digital hyper-real giantess.

He wasted no time in grabbing fervently ahold of her toes, their smushy texture silken and still warm to the touch – since they’d only just emerged from slippers which were simulated to accurately depict the resultant conditions from wearing those taut leatherbound shoes practically every moment of the day, except when they were asleep in bed. Halim pressed his face directly against the squishy cleavage of his wife’s second and third digits, burying his nose into that claylike divot, and inhaled as hard as he could. Ravishing salt-brined sharpness flooded instantly through his avatar’s shrunken form, painting as genuine an olfactory experience as he would’ve had huffing off the real thing at this size. Scents of sweat-sodden hide lining and tepid cooped-in foot flesh dominated most of all, but hints of saffron and mint tea helped sweeten the fog, even if Halim didn’t already have such a craving for ripe underfoot scourge. But of course he did, and salivated at every note he sniffed, foul or not.

Even better, he noticed that the smell was a shade different than the previous days, with a touch of something that oddly reminded him of cactus fruit wrung through sour stockings. This evolutionary feature was by Halim’s own doing, as he endeavored to make every rsVR trip as convincing as possible, which included realistically ensuring that his virtual wife’s foot funk wasn’t quite the same for every visit, yet still appetizingly familiar. And he’d more than succeeded. Still gripping Chaima’s hulking pillow-smooth toes, he proceeded to knead whatever yielding curve of doughy flesh he touched next, while moving down the line and probing his snout into every space separating those ten elegantly bulbous digits. The giantess kept on laughing lyrically under her breath all the while, never with condescension but rather appreciation. She also slightly flared her toes so Halim could better wedge his face into that damp crevice for a strong suck-up, though her digital representation had seemingly learned not to spread them too far apart either, since her husband enjoyed the feeling of getting half his head pinchily squashed between those firm cushy swells of her neighboring digits. So she indulged him, exactly as she’d been programmed – and exactly as she’d learned beyond that.

When Halim had finished caressing her toes and gulping up hot air from each flavorful pocket betwixt them like pungent samples of fine wine, Chaima again accurately anticipated his next wish by lazily capsizing her right foot onto its side. There, with her toes clenched hard and her naked arch set at its curviest bend, a mural of pale-dappled perspiration-smudged wrinkles was made to adorn the whole supple underbelly of her bare ped. Halim had experienced this view dozens of times before in this created realm, but was still reduced to his knees all the same, blushing and flinching from lust.

“Take off your clothes, darling,” Chaima whispered, then playfully bunched her toes again, immediately causing those moist creases coating her gigantic sole to dance again. She grinned at Halim’s total transfixion. “If I make you wait any longer for relief, it might constitute torture. And that is not the way we agreed to treat one another, the day we took our wedding vows. Show yourself to me. All of yourself. Then come closer to my foot, as I know you are simply aching to do.”

Halim didn’t need to be told twice, ripping his clothing free and casting it aside. Technically he could’ve done this himself already without permission from the giantess, or even uploaded himself here sans garments in the first place. Yet he’d discovered over months of testing that there was something undeniably intoxicating about entering his virtual realm more-or-less as he would have outside it, with everything appearing as normal, right up until his unusually-loving spouse instructed him to shrink and then zealously strip in front of her naked sweat-misted sole dimples like a religious altar. That transition from ordinary tedium to extraordinary perversion was important, as it almost let Halim trick himself into believing all this could happen for real.

Once in his birthday suit, he complied with his wife’s second instruction, again throwing himself into devoted contact with her foot – only now with nothing between them to impede a sultry embrace. The buttery sleekness of that wrinkled wall, balmy and fragrant, squeezed against every exposed part of Halim’s frontside. With his face buried against one of the many malleable grooves richly endowed over that tan sole flesh, and his indeed-aching member pricked gently into another arch dimple lower down like a set of plump lips, he shuddered on the verge of completion already. The muggy heat, the tactile ambrosia, the addictive stench, and above all the humongous faux-Chaima’s seductive grandeur combined to leave Halim but a humble servant at her dreamy feet. Taking another heady sniff of her slipper-oily footprint, he parted his jaws as wide as they’d open and commencing making the traditional bout of mouth-love to his virtual spouse’s sole. He kissed and tongued with a thirsty vengeance, gingerly gnawing at the pliable flesh terrain, as he worshipfully took in an even greater taste of that tangy sweat-and-saffron essence. His hands swirled in ardent circles like a window washer’s, compelled to massage her, even though this incarnation of Chaima had no need for such relief.

All the while, she continued rhythmically pumping her toes in and out, so that the crease patterns were in constant beautiful flux and the crescent plain of her size-11 sole mass was never fully at rest, but always swelling and rubbing up against Halim in kind, as if it was trying to absorb his three-inch form directly into itself like a splotch of lotion. Soon, the sustained pressure as he licked and stroked her arch made his simulated body temperature match that of his wife’s foot. As if he too had just spent twelve hours since the sunrise stuffed into those worn-down slippers she always insisted on wearing, even when he offered to buy her all the new shoes she could want. Though, in this case, Halim was grateful for his real-life spouse’s frugality, since her footwear consistency made it all the easier to find direct inspiration in here.

Within minutes of this tantalizing ritual, he’d fallen even more deeply under his rsVR wife’s spell than usual, scrubbing and making out with every square inch of sole he contacted. It was only his reluctance for the buildup to end that kept him from finishing any sooner, as this pleasurable ascent was every bit as valuable to him as the eventual conclusion – and also the only form of gratification he was likely to get, so long as his actual marriage remained so coldly stalled. Still, even in digital form, Halim only had so much willpower to burn. He didn’t start out by outright humping Chaima’s foot like an animal, but the natural motions from his libidinous snogging and massaging soon started up an irresistible groove of gliding his shrunken hard-on up and down along an especially slick ravine of sole flesh. It felt absolutely mind-blowing: somehow even better than usual, which was a high bar to clear. Just as he’d always planned, the world itself all around him was learning, not just the artificial intelligence presenting as his spouse, and accordingly enhancing his whole experience.