Wrong House (Chapter 2)

“Come on now, you sly idiotic little thing. I know what you are now. You can’t hide it. So you might as well show me,” Renee calmly commanded. There was derision in her voice, but just as much amusement, which I didn’t expect. I was starting to shake from anxiety now, which was unusual for me, but I disguised it by wriggling for liberty all the harder. It was an alarming combination, to simultaneously feel mounting panic shivers from being treated so aggressively, while also experiencing the libidinous goose bumps that inevitably resulted from being rubbed so intimately upon a mouthwatering sole-crescent surface I never dreamed I’d actually be smothered against.

“I… don’t know what… you’re… talking about!” I rebelliously sputtered, but could hear the confidence leaving my voice, and doubted my captor believed me. It was becoming tough to speak however, not only because Renee was holding me firmly enough against her sole that my breath was made even shorter, but because she’d begun to shift me up and down the length of her foot’s supple underbelly. Rather than simply keeping me plastered stationarily in place, I found myself involuntarily being hand-glided from the giantess’s thick pink heel, along her crease-laden arch, all the way to the broader northern province of her sole slab, where the pithy shafts of those dexterous toes united. Then back down again, over and over, like a soaped-up scrubbing brush, and there wasn’t a thing I could do to stop her. Not that I totally wanted to, either.

The overall luscious texture of Renee’s foot flesh, combined with that touch of shoe-worn moisture, meant that it wasn’t too abrasive or friction-heavy as I found myself grinding over every buttery square inch of undersole at the whim of her grip, but discomfort wasn’t my concern now. The longer she nonchalantly massaged my worming four-inch body across the ample divot-pliable stretch of sublime underfoot architecture, the more my biology began to respond, despite these urgent circumstances making that the outcome I would’ve liked the least – well, aside from being crushed dead under this same gargantuan size-12, of course. It began as a tingle that built up from my core, soon working out to my extremities. And after only a few minutes of being stroked so titillatingly against the spongy luxurious summer-sweet-aromatic plain of a beautiful giant woman’s foot I’d pined after so thirstily before, with my face buried in her lush sole wrinkles and my pants-clad crotch being unsubtly thrust into the same sublime terrain, that excitement became more than just a sensation, growing between my writhing legs.

“I don’t believe you,” Renee said, and then with an eerie almost-motherly lullaby tone combined with domineering control, she leaned closer and whispered while still dragging me along her arch: “Come on now, you dirty sneaky stupid horny little boy. I know you want my big pretty feet. You can’t resist them. You want them all over you. Pressed up against you. Rubbing. Touching. So why are you fighting this? Isn’t this is exactly what you wanted? While you spent all those hours hiding under the furniture, watching me walk around, drag my soles on the carpet, or dip my toes in the pool? Sure, you must’ve never thought you’d actually have this chance, but now here you are, having all your wildest wishes granted at once. I can feel it, in your body. You’re struggling, so I’ll think you just want me to let you go, but that’s not why. You’re getting warmer. You’re breathing harder. You’re shaking. But not like you’re afraid. Like you’ve just been given everything you ever wanted, much more of it than you can handle, and it’s all you can do to keep yourself from bursting.”

With every word she uttered, I had no choice but to realize that Renee had me dead to rights here, not only understanding me as well as though she’d read my mind like a book, but simultaneously overwhelming my defeated horned-up body with a lengthy anatomy-swallowing rubdown upon the clay-like island of her capsized sole. The heat, the scent, the pressure, and most of all the feeling of her skin caressing across my face with each repetition was conquering me fast, until I had a full mast tented in my pants, no matter how hard I tried to restrain and suppress it. My adrenaline and pulse alike were in overdrive, though most electrifyingly elevated of all was my libido. And this spiraling situation was only about to get worse, or more heavenly, depending on what part of my stressed psyche you asked. Taking my silence as a surrender, Renee murmured with throaty victorious laughter, and then with a single tug of her thumbnail at my waistline, stripped my easily-shredded garments away, having already loosened then up while rubbing me across her sole. In a galling split-second, I was left buck-naked in the grasp of a smug wealthy mature magnetically-alluring giantess, with every part of me including my conspicuously throbbing member squeezed amorously against the creamy slope of her sole.

Renee’s laughter turned louder then, somewhere between loathsome and self-satisfied at the sheer power she held over me by comprehending my deepest desires so exactly and then over-feeding me a lifetime’s supply of those desires. She certainly didn’t stop fondling my body along her sole now that I was nude. If anything, she did so more intensely, occasionally twirling me at the ball of her foot, humping me against her heel, or teasingly pushing my face up into the pliable webbed crevices between her grabby toes and clamping until they’d squishily consumed my whole head like a marble. And if I thought I was turned on before while wearing the impediments of my stolen clothes, I was out of control now. I’d never felt so humbled, so exposed, so freaked-out, or so carnally stimulated in all my life. Every part of me, but especially my loins, was rendered livewire with pulsating erotic need as Renee indulgently coddled and smeared and stroked my achily vulnerable body across the holy site of her dewy temptingly-perfect sole. I groaned aloud in both deep shame and pent-up arousal. I couldn’t help but drool as my face was possessively smushed over every peachy nook and cranny of exquisite underfoot silkiness. And, despite all my humiliating resistance, I noticed when pre-cum escaped my twitching rock-hard member, anointing the underside surface of Renee’s succulent size-12, signaling that the conclusion of this embarrassing, belittling, and maddeningly seductive was drawing close.

“Such a horny boy. Oh, look at the way you tremble. The way you’re fighting to keep from pressing your tiny pathetic tongue upon my foot. Dripping the first of your happy juices all over my sole. You’re just about to explode, aren’t you?” Renee taunted in that same French-accented slur, all while keeping up her sexually-charged technique in treating her own velvety deeply-wrinkled foot like the ultimate secret weapon for degrading my will and dignity. By now, she had me hyperventilating and on the verge of tears, yet my traitorous body was also instinctively bucking and matching the sultry motions across her foot for maximum sexual provocation. “Maybe I owe you an apology, little thing. At first I thought you must’ve just been an animal, like all the rest of your kind. Don’t get me wrong, you still are an animal, just not quite the same as them. They’re all miserable crying fools, putting themselves at risk just for a few valuables or crumbs off the floor. But you? You’ve risked EVERYTHING just for the sake of my feet. You couldn’t help it. So, I confess, that makes you less disposable than the others. You broke into my house, and I’d be fully within my rights to squash you like a bug. But, with you, I believe that would be a waste. No, I see now that you’re going to serve a purpose. One far better than your meaningless little life ever had before. Stick out your tongue and take a deep breath now. I’m about to finish you. You can’t stop you, so you might as well give in already. Savor it. Appreciate what I’ve done for you. And from the moment I’ve completed you, you will belong to me. You will belong to my feet. Understand that, boy. You were already a slave to your own horny desires, but now that slavery will be literal. You are mine. You belong at my feet. Show me now that you understand this.”

I heard what she was saying and trusted it, horrified to my core at the thought of becoming an enslaved pet to Renee and her feet, no matter how much I lusted after them, but I had lost all autonomy now. My body was just a needy spasming vessel held against her foot, and every atom of me longed to find release. So, hopeless as could be, I obligingly stuck out my tongue and inhaled sharply just as the giantess purposefully squeezed my head into the pulpy crevice between her two largest toes and held it there, giving me a warm cramped canvas of curved toe-pocket flesh to lick and suck and dote over. Meanwhile, the bottom half of my body was assuredly wrapped into a naked sandwich between Renee’s fingertips and foot, and I could feel her manipulating my hips, until she’d actually wedged my erection between the cushiony ripples of a malleable sole wrinkle. I was already guaranteed to give in, but this posture in particular sealed my fate. Gasping, tonguing, moaning, and flailing in the grasp of my powerful new owner, I at last gave in to the most ruinous orgasm of my life – and enjoyed every damn ounce of mind-blowing euphoria it brought me, even while comprehending that it also marked the end of my independent being.

“Yes. There it is. Finally. Get it all out of your system, you horny little thing. You came this far, and paid such a price, you might as well fully enjoy it,” Renee giggled, continuing to rub me against her foot while my climactic afterglow worked its magic. The shameful surreality of my lost future as her puny slave washed over me in equal measure. “Oh, goodness, the things I’m going to do with you…”

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THE END (but this isn't the last we'll see of Renee)