Back when I was a teenager, I used to go to my friend Ben's house to play. His mom had gotten one of those shrink rays, and she'd shrink us to a tiny size so that the kitchen table became a huge playground to us.

She made us four inches tall or so the first time. I still remember how weird it felt then. Me and Ben normally stood a little taller than Becca, and in a matter of seconds, we saw the redhead becoming gigantic in front of us. Pretty soon, she was so huge that we could only see her bus-sized feet in front of our tiny selves, eye level with her red painted toes, and tilting our heads we saw her gigantic legs as she bent down to pick us up. I felt her hand wrap me up as gently as an over 100 feet being could, and enveloping us in the warm and slightly sweaty fingers, she slowly raised us up to the table.

I was still feeling pretty light-headed. Ben, however, was used to it. He claimed his mom would shrink him as a punishment all the time, and as I looked up and watched Becca's huge frame, I knew I would not want to make that woman mad… ever.

My friend had prepared a small soccer field on the table. He went and kicked a ball that had been shrunk in preparation, and was the perfect size for us to play with. I quickly joined him, and as the game went on, his mom would do stuff around the house. Though we had shrunk, we were still large enough that she could hear still hear our voices and check on us from a distance, so safety wasn't much of an issue. Her presence turned out necessary when a terrible kick from Ben made the ball bump into a plastic bottle and fall off the table, so that we had to call her to pick it up for us.

"Where is it?", the woman asked. Ben pointed at the area near the fridge where the ball had ended up. "I just hope it didn't slide under the fridge!", she said. Then she bent down. "There it is", she said, as I managed to steal a perfect look of her gorgeous shorts-clad ass. Even in her forties, Ben's mom had a really nice slender and petite (though that sounds ridiculous considering the situation) frame. I knew she loved to work out, and it showed.

While she held the ball- a mere marble between her fingers- and flicked it back to us, I was still caught in the arousal, and I let the ball bump against me.

A few minutes later, I "accidentally" kicked the ball down once again. I was hoping to see Ben's mom bend over once again so that she could pick the tiny ball from the floor. And, indeed, the woman did come back to the kitchen after hearing our calls. But as she stepped in front of the table, we saw her sandal covering the soccer ball, crushing the minuscule sphere under the immense weight of her foot.

Ben shouted in frustration, and I just laughed, as an apologetic Becca scraped the crushed ball off the sole of her sandal. "I'm sorry sweetie," she said, holding the squished remains of the toy between her fingers, and throwing it in the garbage bin. "We'll get another one by the next time Ben visits."

"But Mom," protested my friend. "What are we going to do now?"

"I don't know, sweetie. Why don't you play hide and seek? You're the perfect size to hide around all this stuff."

"But Mom, aren't we a bit too big for that? Shouldn't you make us a little smaller if we want to hide?"

"Hmm," she said. "I still have to do some work around the house so I can't make you smaller now. How about you watch some TV for now, and then when I'm able to sit here and check on you, I'll make you really small?"

Ben and I agreed, and some time later Becca returned. She grabbed the gun and pointed it at us.

"How small do I make you, boys?"

"One inch tall, please, Mom!" said Ben.

This time we really looked like bugs. Becca, who was standing up in front of the table, seemed like a living mountain from my point of view, even though she was a rather petite woman normally. And when I stared up, I could notice the bump her tits made in her dress, and in the distance, her smiling at us from above.

Ben decided I would have to hide first, and I scurried around the table. Becca sat on a chair in front of us and started reading a magazine, watching over us in the meantime. I went hiding behind a candle and waited for Ben to stop counting. While I was focusing on my friend, I heard the ground shaking, as a huge thud came from behind. I got really scared and when I turned down I saw something I still can't forget. Becca had planted her heels on the table, her naked soles standing as tall as buildings, towering above me and casting their shadow on the brown wooden surface of the table.

"Moom!" I heard Ben say. "Get your stinky feet off the table."

"My feet are not stinky, you little twerp," said Becca, still somehow able to catch our feeble voices; and I saw her lowering her foot over the pitiful silhouette of her son. I held my breath as I saw the foot's arc closing down on the little boy, her sole closing in on him as he tried to run away and lost the impossible struggle against the woman's foot.

I was too nervous to say anything and for a while, I really believed, absurd as it may have seemed, that Becca was really about to voluntarily squish her son just like she had squished our soccer ball minutes ago.

But when the sole had completely descended over the table, Becca avoided putting any more weight onto the poor tiny boy, trapping him between the pressure of her foot's soft skin and the surface of the table. His muffled screams came as unintelligible to me, as my glances were divided between the woman's foot, and her face, which sported a satisfied, cheeky smile.

When she released Ben from his prison, I walked to him and asked if he was okay. He was silent for a while, obviously humiliated from the way his mother had just treated him, and then said that he was going to start counting again, so I would better start hiding.

Becca had returned to her magazine, her feet still towering on the right side of the table. As I looked around for another spot to hide in, I couldn't help but marvel at every wrinkle and curve of those feet. I was too young and inexperienced to really understand what was going on inside of me, but now I'm pretty sure that was the exact moment I started developing my foot fetish.