Time-Out: Nancy's Way (Chapter 8)

Some part of Scott of course knew that the figurative other shoe had just been waiting to drop this whole time. Considering that the last occasion he spent an extended period mustily stowed inside this woman’s footwear, he’d inadvertently tongued her toes with heartiness enough not only for her to feel it but presumably appreciate it, since she’d later teasingly ratted on him to Judy. Yet he’d still held out hope up until this exact instant that he might still squeak through these three days without Nancy ever choosing to bring up that unfortunate incident again, even tangentially, by asking him to purposefully press his lips into her colossal bare ped for the first time. But he knew now that it would’ve been physically impossible for the woman, once the idea was implanted in her mind that this shrunken charge of hers could use more than his hands to service her foot, to ever let that idea go.

“Come on. It can’t really be such a big deal, can it? I never took you for a prude, dear,” she wheedled with a lyrical sway to her voice, while caressing her naked insteps together in impatience for Scott to stand back up and keep stroking her sole. “People all over the world give each other a kiss on the cheek or even the lips just to say hello or goodbye. And I think you and I know each other more than well enough by now that we don’t need an excuse like that. It’s only a gesture. You’d just be kissing the part of me you’re much better acquainted with, is all, and also the only part of me that you can reach right now, anyway. And… well… maybe you don’t quite remember last time, but it really was just the sweetest thing when you started to-”

Just wanting to shut the giantess up by any means necessary now before she could start haughtily describing the time he’d accidentally French-kissed the dewy underside bulbs of her toes while in-shoe, Scott lunged back at the same gigantic foot which had just knocked him over, and reluctantly pressed his lips into Nancy’s heel. As suspected, she was startled enough by the immediacy of his second wind that she halted herself before getting any deeper into narrating that fond memory aloud, instead giggling with relaxation while the one-incher consecutively laid firm tight-lipped closed-mouth smooches upon the humid rose-peachy skin of her most southern underfoot region. This shouldn’t have been such a hurdle, Scott told himself. He’d already had every part of his miniature nude form pressed flush to every part of Nancy’s foot innumerable times in the past, including his groin and his lips. Privacy was not a concept that existed in any fashion between his shrunken incarcerated form and the feet of any giant family or acquaintances who saw fit to discipline him; he’d even had his mouth on this same woman’s bare loins before. The literal only difference now was that he was actively puckering up against his will, just enough to make his mother’s friend feel his needlepoint-tiny mouth pinch and shudder in mock amorousness, and not an ounce more. So why, no matter how much he rationalized, did Scott still feel such creeping dread in his gut while planting repeated wet-lipped pecks on the monolithic pedicured golden-tan foot of his seductive violator?

“Now, that’s more like it!” Nancy slurred with another ravishing sigh that Scott hoped was only borne out of deep calm and not something more sinisterly flirtatious. She stretched, sinking deeper against the couch pillows and spreading her elegant arms to their full wingspan while also digging both heels in harder against the coffee table platform to show just how much she was enjoying this. Thankfully she anchored either foot stiffly enough that the shrinker wasn’t body-checked this time, but Scott could sense both wrinkly-fleshed slopes of her arches dipping more steeply overhead as he worked. Another couple inches lower, and she might just flatten him immobile to the wooded surface. “See? It’s not so hard to make Auntie Nancy happy. I’m not a taskmaster, you know. All I ask is that you show a little love until I tell you it’s okay to stop. Like I said before, it’s all about earning your keep.”

So this was what she meant by her earlier taunt, Scott thought to himself in between reticent smooches on the cushiony yet mildly-mature texture of the woman’s rather thick heel. He was earning his keep now. Or at least he sincerely hoped this was all she meant, because he wasn’t sure he could handle the anxiety uptick to learn that this was merely the warmup, and she actually meant something even worse. Whatever that might be, Scott didn’t care to attempt guessing, and he was busy enough already just keeping his composure in this moment: maintaining a steady enough pace of kissing on Nancy’s foot to ensure she didn’t start complaining about his slow-pokiness, but not so rapidly either that he humiliated himself any worse than was already required while standing stripped at one inch tall on furniture to lip-lock with the tired yet well-maintained peds of his gargantuan temporary warden.

The minutes wore on, with no hint from Nancy that she’d had her fill of this more-intimate brand of undersole pampering. So onward he kissed with the same sufficiently-acceptable pressure, then swapped to the other foot once he was certain he’d uncomfortably fondled his pursed lips into every square inch of meaty real estate on that side that a boy his size could possibly reach from his lowest PMRD-adjusted height. And the longer Scott was forced to all but bash his lips along the broader flesh creases characterizing the woman’s bare heels, he unfortunately didn’t find his senses numbing to the muggy claylike stimuli of her softly-trodden skin. Instead they were sharpening, until he began to perceive things that he normally didn’t have to suffer unless he was fully enclosed in the broiling leather-lined vessel of feminine footwear while long dexterous digits balmily grappled with his helpless shape.

There was the bitter filth-flaked atmosphere of deteriorating cowhide insole material; the faint gasp of that eucalyptus oil interwoven with pheromone stink; the acrid puddling of long-dormant sweat reserves; and the perfume-stale foot-flesh funk that tasted of corn chips and some unnamed congealed European dairy. All of that flavorful misery was distastefully contained in each kiss. It was like the proactive press of Scott’s lips, repeated over and over, was magically releasing the objectionable odors and sweaty tastes straight from her pores, the kind he could usually escape while simply on open-air massage duty at the feet of his various legally-responsible titanic mistresses. Not that the little guy literally believed there was something supernatural at play here, but he also genuinely couldn’t think of a good reason why modest contact between his micro lips and the bases of Nancy’s ponderous heels should unleash such a potent strain of sour, offensive, day-squalid foot fustiness throughout his olfactory receptors. But it was, and all he could do was shiver and wheeze under his breath to adjust while kissing, until at last he’d bestowed his puny mouth over every touchable part of the giantess’s lotioned succulently-perspired bare heels.

“That’s enough for now. Go ahead and catch your breath. You deserve it,” Nancy enthused at last, just when Scott’s jaw was reaching a stage-two cramp. “And oh, hon, what a difference that made. Really. You’re a natural. I’ve had a feeling for a while now that I was missing out on something there, after how comfortable things got the last time I had you in my shoe. But now this just confirms it. That little girlfriend of yours is one lucky chick, with lips like yours going to town. Oh, I’m only teasing you, I know it’s not the same. What you’re doing down there. Still, it’s not nothing either, now is it? It’s almost a shame that I’m the only one who’s apparently thought to put you to work this way. Your Mommy really doesn’t know what she’s missing. Then again, maybe that makes it more special, to think that this is going to be the way you and I spend all our quality time together, from now on. Because you can bet I’m going to be needing you to kiss the boo-boos and make them all better for the long haul. That, and… oh, yes… since you’re so good and warmed up now, and since we’ve made such lovely amends for any times in the past that we maybe didn’t see eye to eye, it seems like the perfect way to kiss and make up if you could just go ahead, sweetheart, and lick your favorite Auntie Nancy’s toes for her now.”