Time-Out: Nancy's Way (Chapter 10)

“Oh, you naughty selfish little thing. Such a natural. You really were keeping this a secret all these years, weren’t you?” Nancy seductively accused, shamefully allowing every iota of her thorough enjoyment from this toe-tonguing treatment to come through in her throaty voice and overly-pleased posture. “All this time you’ve been small, you could’ve been sticking out that tongue and sharing your talents. But you just kept that busy mouth shut and let people walk all over you, without ever letting them know what they were missing. What a shame. What a waste. Or, it was. Now, at least one woman is going to be appreciating you as much as you deserve, sweetheart. Mark my words. Now, go ahead and move on over to the other foot. Those toes are starting to get jealous.”

Scott miserably obeyed her instructions, more bewilderingly upset and turned-on at once than he’d ever been in his life. Remaining on his hands and knees, out of both instinctively low-esteem feelings and a thin hope that staying hunkered might prevent Nancy from noticing his miniscule but nonetheless visible erection, the one-incher bowed himself before the opposite ped’s five yet-unlicked digit mounds. Helpfully, the giantess flexed these toes as far apart as they could spread, which was substantial, revealing the tender wrinkly-fleshed pockets of peachy space between each extremity while also wafting out a stronger strain of that salted-hide perfume stink which was now so messily interwoven with Scott’s rising arousal. Now a solid ten minutes into what should’ve been the most offensive and disgusting thing he’d ever had to do for a titanic caretaker, but was instead confusingly beneficial for them both, the shrinker kept praying this was only a mistake. Surely it was just a combination of adrenaline, lack of satisfaction when she’d toyed with his junk earlier in the day, and some unfortunate sensory association that was keeping him hot and bothered. Yet nothing had physically touched his hard-on, and still it dangled at more than half-mast between his legs, as he carried on to pamper the opposite foot. This was definitely something, but it wasn’t a mistake.

So Scott warily resumed lapping his micro-taste buds across the lush cardio-toned brawn of Nancy’s toe architecture, from the sun-glazed topsides back down to the doughier oily-ringed underbellies of the prints. Again the bouquet of provocative filth and wearily-perspired feminine aromas merged in his thoughts with the highly-stimulating sensation of his lips and tongue passing so heartily over the damp puttied textures of her foot flesh. With every fiber of his being, the naked crouched-down licker willed himself to hate this. He should have hated it. After everything he’d suffered at the feet of the sky-high women in his life for so many years, and this one more than any of the others except perhaps for his totalitarian mother, no part of this humiliating, whiffy, sexually-abusing scenario should have allowed Scott to endure such excitement in his loins.

But it did anyway. Everything was clicking now in the most loathsome of ways. That ripe shoe-preserved odor, the abiding heat, the quashy terrain, and the sharper musk becoming wetly tactile upon his tongue with each lick around the geometry of her toe curves. No matter how angry he felt at Judy for giving him to Nancy, at Nancy for taking such cruel advantage of his twisted shrunken-down mindset, or most of all at himself and his body for this randy betrayal, there was no denying what was happening to Scott. As those first ten uncertain minutes of mandatory worship upon her feet stretched into twenty, then half an hour, the little guy could feel the craving building up inside himself: the masochistic need to inhale more of her sole raunch, the yearning to press his tongue down harder upon every supple middle-aged toe-bulb, and the throbbing that ached between his legs for release.

It was official now, Scott thought. He had fucking flipped.

“That’s enough for today,” Nancy murmured at length. Though because the shrinker had become so lost in his own repulsive headspace of longing for this titillating subhuman experience to continue and also wishing to erase himself from existence, he didn’t react to her immediately or even hear her voice, instead dutifully licking the pillowy robustness of the giantess’s pinky toe no less than three more times before she giggled and then cleared her throat to better capture his attention. Abruptly, Scott yanked his face away, wild-eyed and disturbed. “Now, now. You’ll get more chances to show me what you can do, hon. Don’t you worry about that. You really are an impressive little thing. Just between you and me, that Mommy of yours doesn’t give you enough credit. Oh, just look at you. Almost all the way tuckered out, and you haven’t even had your reward yet for earning your keep, like I promised. See, this is my own fault. I told myself I wouldn’t work you too hard for the first time, seeing how we’re reaching into some… new frontiers here together. But, sue me, I just couldn’t bring myself to stop you any sooner. That little tongue works too much magic. Well, you just stay right where you are, sweetheart. Let Auntie Nancy take care of the rest.”

Ashamed and indeed tired as he was now, even while still in a continuous state of resurgent arousal, a flushed pent-up Scott was more than content to do exactly that. He stayed exactly where he was, as the giantess slowly withdrew both her colossal peds from their sole-flush position upon the coffee table. Heart racing, both hoping for and repelled by what he knew was about to happen, Scott shut his eyes. A moment later, he felt the warm pads of Nancy’s gigantic thumb and forefinger clamping just firmly enough around his all-fours posture to contain him – not shy either about allowing the ample tip of her pliant index digit to gently brush his erection in the process – then lifted him off the furniture. Wind rushed beneath his suspended frame, but Scott kept his eyes clenched shut, especially when sixth-sense intuition told him that the giantess was closely scrutinizing the horny dog-like one-inch young man gripped in her thrall right now. The embarrassment of actually having to look back at her in this moment would probably make him melt, so he kept rigidly still, heard Nancy’s approving exhale, and then felt the descent of her hand give way to a familiar stuffiness and even more familiar scent. Planted back on the inner hillside of the woman’s shoe, Scott allowed himself to be guided by her fingers all the way down to the toe section. Even when she let go of him, he kept statue-still and didn’t budge his eyelids, and kept up that defiance as he felt the high-heeled vessel shifting in her cradled hold, followed by the jostling seesaw effect of her immense recently-licked bare foot entering the space to join him.

And after so much buildup, teasing, and turmoil within his undeniably turned-on body, this time when Scott felt Nancy’s lustrous silky-soft giant toes possessively plopping down on top of his nudity with intention to give him what he needed whether he accepted it or not, he didn’t try to fight back or clam up. When the juicy globes of her second and third digits rolled him onto his back and then endeavored to grind slickly against him in the humid darkness, he simply let his arms and legs part ways after an instant of feeble reluctance. Granted, he didn’t openly embrace her foot, either, since Scott would sooner die than let the giantess believe he actively was thrilled for this to happen – at most, she could surmise that she’d tamed his confused biology, but not his actual desires. Even though she had done exactly that. This last shred of deniability was all the dignity had left, though.