Breaking Up the Hard Way (Chapter 2)

“You’re so adorable,” Esther cooed.

“And you’re hotter than ever.” Brandon just couldn’t tear his eyes off his dark-haired mountain-high idol, her beauty only matched by sheer power that made her seem like a mythic supreme being.

“I… hope you still feel that way after you get such a close look at… certain parts of me. A close smell, too. I know that’s what you want, but… still. It might be kind of gross. Also, I didn’t think the pills would shrink you this small, babe, honestly. You’re like the size of my pinky nail. I thought you’d be at least triple that big. Is this really okay?”

“It’s perfect. I promise. This is amazing,” Brandon said, skimming over the truth of his double-dose. “C-Can we… get started?”

“Of course. Climb on in, little guy,” Esther invited. She tilted her sneaker on its side just beside the pile of her boyfriend’s clothes, and tapped the interior with her fingertip.

The terrain was tough to traverse, first over rolls of denim, then the couch cushion, and finally the scramble up the cottony lip of the shoe, which even turned on its side was difficult for such a miniscule man to enter, but Brandon was determined, and persevered, getting harder by the minute. Once he’d walked up to the wall of his girlfriend’s insole, admittedly well-worn and damp, as well as piping a funky aroma, Brandon felt the great vessel being turned right-side down again. Looking up toward the glow of the shoe mouth, he saw the gigantic Peruvian stunner blow him a goodbye kiss before the lovely, intimidating, shapely beast of her naked sweaty foot crested into view, squirming toes-first.

“See you soon, babe!” she called, right as the ball of her foot thunked against the insole. The whole inside quaked violently, bouncing Brandon up and down, but he smiled, knowing it was going to be a bumpy ride. He stumbled back into the shadows, waiting while his girlfriend slowly inserted her absolutely mammoth foot; her pudgy toe-tips drove toward him like a slow-moving tidal wave.

Wrapped in the darkness and omnipresent odor, which turned out to be a bit stronger than he’d expected, Brandon spotted something curious in the heel-depression, where black smudges splattered the fabric. At first he mistook it for the same mud grains from Esther’s foot, until he realized this tiny mess was ingrained in the fibers, and stuck at the center was something even more suspicious: what looked an awful lot like a tattered t-shirt that could’ve fit someone roughly Brandon’s stature.

Squinting, while the light rapidly dimmed as Esther’s ever-encroaching monstrous foot blotted it out, Brandon approached the mysterious smudge. With the last flash of visibility he had just before his girlfriend’s burly perspiration-glazed toes covered the evidence, the little fellow realized it wasn’t dirt dried in the shoe, but a bloodstain, and the shirt was emblazoned with the same restaurant logo as Esther’s waitress uniform.

There was no time to ponder this revelation, aside from the fact that the bloodied t-shirt and overpowering dust-and-BO cloud were suddenly making Brandon question this whole sexual misadventure, because Esther’s foot now consumed all her boyfriend’s focus, as well as her boyfriend himself. Her big and second toes splayed apart, the meaty columns separating in time to catch his insectoid body between them. The tender, sweat-mushy flesh separating her digits clamped around the little man, fastening him tightly in place while she bulldozed her foot the rest of the way inside the sneaker, finally coming to rest in total airless blackness, with her boyfriend immobilized in the greasy embrace of her two brawniest toes.

Immediately Brandon realized the pressure was greater than he ever could’ve predicted. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he’d tempted fate and taken two pills, but either way, this was less of the BDSM-themed pleasure-and-pain romp he expected, and more like being caught between a couple of thick boa constrictors. Now that he was held in the deepest bowels of the shoe, half-submerged in his girlfriend’s taut toe skin, the space became like a microwave oven, which in turn amplified the putrid flavor of her feet to an overwhelming stench-fog. It was almost nauseating how rich the smell became so quickly, deeply imbued with a miasma of dank scents that included hints of stale soap, slimy toejam, caked mud, sour sweat, and feminine flesh left to marinate in brine for two heel-pounding shifts at work.

All of these were elements Brandon expected and even hoped for, of course, since he enjoyed a little earthy gunk leftover on his girlfriend’s feet at full size, but he was wholly unprepared for experiencing that same rawness in such a vulnerable form, with no light or fresh oxygen, and no conceivable way to fight the numbing grasp of Esther’s dirty toes, which unfortunately weren’t any easier to slide away from despite their smelly moisture lubricating every crevice and slopping over Brandon’s bare body.

Coughing in a useless bid for breath, the ant-man immediately began squirming as violently as he could, so Esther would remove her foot from the shoe and allow him to back out of what was turning into a major regret. He punched her toes and wormed his legs between her slippery digit-shafts, to no avail.

Above, the girl smiled with contentment, actually somewhat enjoying the cute sensation of her boyfriend writhing so delightedly between her toes. She thought it might be unpleasant or even frightening to have him down there, but as she laced up her sneaker, cinching its mesh shape around her bare foot like a corset, Esther was getting more used to the idea. Her first step off the couch to stand was a nervous one, but since she felt Brandon flailing with happiness even more vigorously, she took this as a sign that he was secure and ready for their stroll.

“Maybe this’ll be our new routine,” Esther said to herself with a quiet giggle, and headed for the door. “Have fun, babe!”