You climb out of your beat-up Toyota, staring at The Pizza Palace, snuggled between a Dollar store and a quiet nail salon. Taking a small but confident breath of fresh air, you take in the scenery of this neighborhood plaza and admire what might be the rest of your life.

You are a recent college graduate, a title that doesn’t hold much value since actual job positions require higher education. You chose to become a Psych major because it looked fun, like training to become a real-life mind reader.

Yet, when you came to realize that the workload was actual work, you started to lose interest in the field, and barely managed to leave with a certified paper. 

There was one semester when your biggest scholarship abandoned you, and with no money or patience to wait for the other grants, you panicked and pulled out a loan, and had a lot more to spend on food and video games.

Now, school was over, and you still had to pay off the loan. Just 1000 dollars short, and with no jobs focused on psychology around your area, the best you could do was become a driver at America’s favorite Pizza shop.

The area was pretty decent and not too far from home. You know your way around town and knew that the possibility of getting mugged or jumped was low. 

As you walked towards the small store, you took short glances at your future clientele. These suburbs were run by minorities, primarily middle-class Hispanics and blacks who just needed to get their things and go, always in a hurry to be someplace better.

You step inside the store, activating the door chime. Right away, a petite blond girl, no older than 30, comes out the back with a grey jacket and purple cap with the company’s logo.

“Welcome to the Pizza Palace, how can I help you?” Her tone was robotic and bored as hell. Through her black eyeliner, you could see the jaded look of a woman who could care less about helping, but that wasn’t going to ruin your eager smile. At least, not during the interview process.

“Hi,” You said, “I’m here for the driver’s position.”

The woman perked up a bit. “Oh, cool. Jorge, right?” You nodded. “Cool, cool, my name is Stacy.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Stacy.” You say.

“Same. If you wanna follow me back, we can get this started. There’s not much to discuss, but I just want to get to know you a little better, and answer some questions if you have any.”

“Sounds good.” You follow Stacy’s lead as she goes through the door and presents the magic of a Pizza shop. Everything was pretty sterile and chrome, except for the floor which was just slightly messy with discarded toppings and footprints tracked from outside.

Stacy led you to the main computer hub, which sat in the corner of the room away from the cooking station and stacks of pizza boxes. 

“Sorry for the mess,” Stacy said as she was shuffling around paperwork and blowing away eraser shavings. “One of our shift leaders, Denise, doesn’t clean after herself too much, especially when she runs the late shift.”

“That’s fine, I don’t mind.”

Stacy chuckled. “You say that now, but wait until you meet her. She can be a real handful.”

“Oh.” You pass a quiet laugh, inaudible to anyone. While Stacy focuses on organizing their only desk, you wait patiently and watch her work. 

She’s incredibly cute, especially with the golden ponytail hanging from her work cap. She had a slim figure; so slim that her jacket could almost act as her blanket. She was wearing long khakis and a pair of dirty white Nikes. Just based on their weariness, these must’ve been her work shoes for years, probably even before she started working here.

“All right,” Stacy said. She took her seat on the black, office chair, scooting closer to have her knees buckled under the desk. She turned to you with a smile. “I’m so sorry, Jorge, I know I said I was gonna get you out soon, but I gotta find your file real quick, and working through this slow-ass computer is gonna make it long.”

“Oh, please, it’s not a problem.” You smiled. 

She smiled back. “You’re so nice, I’m gonna like you. Give me one sec.”

“Okay.” You wait in your seat and watch as Stacy focuses on getting your file. You noticed right away why she was the store manager: she had an intense focus on everything she does and likes to keep her space in order. Can’t be easy sharing this mini desk with other people, especially if they aren’t as dedicated as she is.

“Is it just you?” You ask, forcing yourself to make small talk and noticing how quiet the place is.

“Nope, but the mornings are always quiet, especially on weekdays. One of our drivers, Alex, is currently on a double delivery, so maybe you’ll see if this computer doesn’t get a move on!”

She continues to get the file open, and you patiently look around the room to get a feel for your work environment. The air was constantly chilly, the place smells greasy, and you could tell that it was gonna be easy work.

Your ears picked up Stacy’s worn sneakers squeaking against the floor as she was using one shoe to pry off the other. From your point of view, you witnessed her black, socked foot escape to free the other one from confinement.

You tried and keep your attention on the computer that struggled to cooperate, but your eyes couldn’t resist the unconscious action happening below. You were a closeted foot pervert, a candid watcher, and a lover of macrophilia. You couldn’t help what you liked, and spend most of your days daydreaming giantess content.

You wanted to make a good first impression, but when it came to your urges and fantasies, you needed to indulge them in any way you could.

Stacy’s socks were caked with sweat after a hefty morning running around this kitchen all day. Her shoes were releasing funky fumes that haven’t had a chance to air out in god knows how long.

You tried to keep your eyes up, but missing out on her ankles rubbing together was out of the question. All you could imagine was being small enough to accidentally be swept up in the action. Spending hours as her foot toy sounded like a dream, soaking up all the sweat and dirt collected from an honest work day, and then shoved back into a dirty shoe prison.

Complete heaven. 

You felt the boner growing in your pants, so you had to stop thinking and watching. You were wearing shorts, so the bulge would be recognizable as the girth of your big penis outlined your hidden perversions. Whatever feelings you were having, it could wait for later. Right now, you needed employment more than anything.

“Finally!” Stacy said looking satisfied at the computer. You quietly glanced down and watched her sweaty socks crawl back into their smelly prison. She looked at you with a warm smile. “Sorry for the wait. Hope it wasn’t too boring.”

“Nope.” You said with a smile. “Not at all.”

Not at all, indeed.

You find yourself waking up incredibly small in a wide, open space. You recognize that this is the inside of The Pizza Palace you recently interviewed for, only at a much larger scale.

The cleanliness of the store remains at the top as you are surrounded by the enormous food toppings mashed into the floor by giant footprints walking around all day. Your nose smelled nothing but the lingering scent of cheese, grease, and stale musk clinging to your miniature body.

You tried your damndest to move and explore this new world, but that was your first clue that you were currently trapped in dried gum. Both your arms and legs were deeply glued inside the wad, making you a little scared and excited as the thought of being caught like a tiny ant turned you on.

The more you struggled, the quicker you learned that you alone couldn’t escape, and the harder your cock got when understanding that fact. 

You stopped trying when you heard the door chime breaking the silence. You tilted your head back far enough to see underneath the door, already knowing who it was based on the dirty shoes that were walking your way.

Your dick almost broke through the confines of your pajama legs as the door swung open, introducing Stacy as a full-fledged giantess. The world slowed around her, giving you some time to admire her enormous beauty. Early that morning, you were about half a foot taller than her, but now she covered your world with her entire shoe.

Pointlessly, you struggled some more as the underside of her dirty shoe eclipsed the ceiling lights. You can see boulder-sized pebbles wedged between the worn threads, and there was some moistness that seems like she stepped in a dirty puddle. 

You don’t fight the next couple of seconds as her dirty sneakers stepped on your face and the wad of old gum that was trapping you. Your lips taste all the wet dirt and grime accumulated by her steps, and the pressure was imprinting a lasting mark of her heavy shoe threads. 

You thought the moment would be short-lived, but luckily her wet step softened the gum carrying it with her toward her corner desk. You were simply along for the ride with no clue when the next step would happen until your back was grounded into the dirty floor. 

You felt no pain at all, and your face and nose were pressed between the gaps of her shoe threads, studying the earthly scent closely without tasting or breaking his teeth in the process. 

Eventually, the trampling stopped, and you could feel the weight of Stacy’s legs slightly lifting as she took her seat. The world was still again, except now you were trapped in darkness under your new store manager’s overworked sneakers.

For a while, nothing happens, until suddenly you can feel movement above you. The shoe you’re trapped under jiggles back and forth, and out of nowhere, a whole lot of weight is lifted, and you feel the entire shoe flip on its side, facing the chair and Stacy’s legs. 

You were now in the front seat watching Stacy’s smelly, sweaty sock prying the sneaker off her other foot. Her powerful toes held the rim of the sneaker’s mouth tight as her heel slid out and knocked the shoe to its side, facing you.

A strong, heavy stream of musky foot funk wafting your way and you couldn’t do anything about it. Your dick started throbbing like crazy as you accepted the situation and inhaled all of Stacy’s scent as her feet flexed her toes above your head. Droplets of sweat and grime rained over you, loosening your binding from the gum. 

For a brief couple of minutes, both her smelly feet rested on your shoe, and your face could just barely touch the ball of her left foot. Up close, your nose was assaulted by her vinegar-scented toes, feeling the reeking heat emanating from her tired soles.

You wanted to touch them with your hands. You desperately wanted to rub your face deep within the crevice of her toes and take an enormous whiff. The proximity was cruel in its teasing, and when her feet got bored and moved under her seat, you decided that it was time to break free from your imprisonment. 

After all the dirty water and sweat-soaked up, your arms and legs were less restricted, and could count on your tiny power to push away the gum. Driven by your desire to live out a fantasy, you manage to break off and fall face-first into the floor. 

Looking up, you see Stacy’s right foot standing on its toes while her other foot slowly rubs against its heel. You proudly walk up to her dominant peds, taking deep breaths from the other shoe’s mouth.

You glance upwards to size yourself. Her skinny legs looked like beige pillars fit for a goddess, and you couldn’t see past the underside of the desk, but it didn’t discourage you from advancing forward. She could crush you with a sweaty toe press, and you would have no complaints.

The closer you got, the hotter the general area got from all the radiating heat coming off her toes and soles. Your hands passed upon what felt like the toenail of her middle toe. There was a sturdiness under the moist fabric, and following along the side, there was less support, indicating one of her toe crevices.

You fell on your knees and pressed your face between her second and third toe, letting your face grease up and absorb the dampening pool of foot sweat. It was heaven. These feet had found some moment of relief, and you were blessed to be a part of this mini-break. 

You start to feel the rest of your body move backward as Stacy’s foot hovers forward and towards your tiny body. You had no support of your own and were run over quickly, with your minuscule torso lying underneath the heavily musk-scented sole.

With no warning, your body was pinched between her big and second toe, with your face helpless against her powerful scrunches. Instead of fighting it, you buried your face further into the stink, releasing your tongue to get a taste of her caked sweat.

For the second time, your body is glued and immobile, and her foot rises higher from the floor, flexing her trapped toes. Your hands grip tight on her damp sock, and your teeth accidentally bite down on more than a dirty sock. 

Stacy’s feet hover back down and rest on the top of her other foot, giving a small massage. Your tiny body was caught in between the relaxation and relished in the pressure her smelly sole was giving you. 

Being sandwiched between her feet, you could feel the sweat squeezed out of her sock and using your submissive body as a rag. All this power and movement caused your dick to grind against her feet, hardening the more your pelvis thrust against the soft, sweaty flesh. 

You wanted to do more, so much more, but suddenly a phone was ringing in a different part of the room, and Stacy’s feet were quickly brought out of a trance. Your fantasy was coming to an end, but at the same time, it wasn’t.

Your body could not pull itself away from her foot. The adhesive sweat was too strong to break, and you were too battered and smushed to do anything. All you could do was tilt your head back and watch as her foot was entering her musky work shoes again, this time with you in it. 

The last thing you saw was the opening of her shoe and the heated stench lines pouring out. It was going to be unbearably hot, and terribly musky, but you figured you’d be safe if you can snuggle yourself underneath her toes. 

However, in your current position, it wasn’t going to be comfortable at all. With one last look at the light, you took one last breath of the outside world before it became nothing but everlasting darkness in Stacy’s shoe prison.

After two days of waiting for the interview process to be over, Stacy contacted you through your cell to congratulate you on the new driver position.

You were pretty jazzed about the job, but more excited about catching unaware glances at her sore feet popping out during slow hours. You didn’t expect that to warp your mind so much, and you definitely didn’t want to turn her into the star of your fantasies. 

You were always a loner, and felt like this hidden fetish of yours held you back from making true friendships that didn’t lead to sexual fantasies. 

The best you could do was try and cool it. At least for the first couple of weeks while trying to get to know your co-workers better.

The next morning after that phone call, Stacy called you in on a short first day to go over all the online training and extra paperwork. This time, you were on the computer all day finishing up module courses while Stacy moved around the store making pizza and answering calls.

She didn’t have a moment to rest, and you could only imagine how hot and sweaty her feet were getting inside those worn sneakers. You kept your mind concentrated on the assignments, trying to suppress the memory of your previous dream. 

The end of your shift was the only eventful thing as you were on a ride-along with her morning guy, Alex. A quick trip to a small neighborhood close by, and you got a chance to bond with the best driver Stacy’s ever had.

He was cool enough to share some of his gate numbers written on a cheat sheet in case customers forget to make a note, and even pointed out the best places where to get the good tips.

You were very grateful for his help, and the very next day, Stacy believed you had all the basic necessary training to start working. She had you fold boxes, answer phones, and do other menial chores to cover until you were next in the delivery queue.

Your first delivery was heading to Oakwood Apartments, one of the few ghetto locations in the neighborhood. Alex predicted that this would probably be the first since the residents are constantly ordering, and since they believe the store is a 5-minute drive, there’s no reason for a tip.

Being your first time, you didn’t want to make a bad impression, despite how much Alex encouraged it. You waited for Stacy to complete your order, and then headed out the back door to your car. 

Since the plaza had ongoing customers, there was little parking space, so drivers were allowed to park in the back of the store where delivery trucks and garbagemen pass through to drop off and collect.

You get into your car and drive to Oakwood, which was literally down the street. You have always passed by it on your frequent trips to Target, but now you had a reason to go inside.

The main entrance gate was missing its gate, so anyone could just come and go as they please. The apartment building stood at the very end of the complex, and you had to pass through a couple of unnecessary speed bumps and a couple of black kids bicycling around a deserted parking lot.

You arrive at the designated apartment complex and carry your order up a flight of stairs to reach 7B on the second floor. You knock on the door and try and mentally go over your training from yesterday, fixated on a small line of ants walking in no specific direction.

After about 2 minutes of polite waiting, you knock again with a little more force, not wanting to seem upset. This was your first time, and you wanted to do it right, even if it didn’t seem like much to make a big deal out of.

However, after waiting another 2 full minutes, you gave it one final knock, harder than before, hoping that they didn’t fall asleep inside. If this didn’t work, then you were going to have to call the number listed on the receipt.

After another minute, you heard footsteps climbing up the metal staircase. From the top half, you saw this round, ebony woman with an ivory, flower-patterned bandana wrapped around her forehead while the length of her curly autumn-colored weave stuck out. 

Standing on the same platform as you, she was a short woman with hefty proportions. Her small, bulging gut broke the concealing line between her teal, spandex shorts and a white, spaghetti-strapped tank top that hugged her melon-sized breasts together. 

He couldn’t help but notice that her whole appearance was too revealing. The dark coloring of her bra cupping her DD breasts stuck out like a sore thumb, and her shorts were doing no favors to disguise the fat camel toe outlining her beefy vagina.

She was also stomping towards you barefoot with bright-yellow toenails slightly crusty around the edges. She was flat-footed and they looked to be around size 6; probably the smallest thing about her.

“Sorry, sorry.” The girl you can only assume is Erika said. Both her petite feet slapped the dirty concrete below you, crushing a linear row of ants who had no chance of surviving. The fact that she was completely unaware made your dick tingle a little. “You new?”

“Yeah.” You said. “Just started yesterday.”

Erika sized up your 6-foot figure and suppressed the urge to mean-mug. “I like the other boy better. Where he gon?”

“He’s still at the store, there’s just two of us now.”

“Mm.” Erika sounded. Her left hand adjusted the waistband of her shorts, dragging her smushed pussy lips a bit higher until they snapped back into their original position., and then proceeding to scratch her flabby ass cheek.

“How much I owe you, like 12-sumthin?” She estimated.

“Total came out to 15.57.” 

Erika sucked her teeth. “Damn, why it gotta be so damn much?”

You just shrugged your shoulders, not knowing how to answer that. She made the online order, how could she not know, like the company lied to her or something?

You watched as Erika annoyingly dipped her chubby hand in between her breasts and practically fisted herself to pull out a wad of crumpled singles. She used her thumb to file through the correct amount and gave you $16.

“Keep the change.” She said as you exchanged the large box for her breast money.

“Thanks.” You said, but she had already whipped her head sideways and walked through her door before slamming it behind her. You rolled your eyes and walked back towards your car. 

You didn’t know what to expect from your first customer, but it could have been worse. The further you walked from the building, the more your mind started fantasizing dirty thoughts. How helpless you’d feel being crushed amongst those ants, or getting lost between those huge breasts of hers.

You sat in your car, staring at the warm wad of cash in your hand. Looking around to see no one, you proudly pressed your nose against the bills, picking up the heavy scent of coconut lotion. Like a drug, you couldn’t resist, and you drove back to the store with a raging boner.

You find yourself lying on your back, staring up at a brown block of concrete. There was no sound aside from the winds breezing through a hollow hallway, and your back felt like it was laying on a bed of coals.

You sat up on your butt to realize you were back at Oakwood Apartments, just a couple of feet from Erika’s door at 7B. The length of it stretched high towards the ceiling, and from the angle you were staring from, the next person to come out could squash your body in one step.

You also noticed that you were wearing nothing but your gray boxer shorts, understanding why your back was cooking. You let your fingers reach around to rub some possible burns, but you felt nothing like it was never burning in the first place.

Looking behind you, a line of brown ants were walking in a straight light, marching from wall to wall. There was something hypnotizing about their uniformity and synchronizing march that didn’t allow for any distractions. They weren’t least bit curious about you sitting there and watching them.

They didn’t even break form when the ground started to vibrate from the steps coming from the metal staircase. 

The trembles were getting shaky, and the sounds of metal rang louder with each step. Just like earlier, you look towards the stairs to see Erika’s head rising higher and higher to reveal the rest of her short, but voluminous body.

You were struck in awe at this ghetto goddess stomping towards her door with heavy footfalls. Unlike the ants walking behind you, her toes pointed outwards in a V-shape, uncaring to the natural lives below her.

You were too late to move anywhere safe as her monstrous feet slammed on both sides of you. You turn around to see the surviving ants scramble around and away from Erika’s powerful crusty toes. Up close, you could see the bright, yellow nail polish chipping away at the edges, and when she wiggled her toes, you witnessed the messy remains of the ants who couldn’t make it.

“What the fuck?” Erika’s voice boomed above your head. You look up and feel your whole body tingle as you lock eyes with the ebony giantess before you. Her massive breasts blocked out her chin and mouth, but her eyes were filled with enough hate and disgust to make you feel unworthy.

Her entire lower half squatted down and engulfed your whole body in a musk-scented shadow. You fell on your back and shriveled in place, too scared to move and upset her. Your entire view was colored in shaded teal, with the thick bulge of her pussy lips threatening to tear through the fabric and devour you.

You were so concentrated on her pants that you couldn’t see her fat thumb and index finger clutching your fragile, skinny body. The edge of her thumbnail stabbed you in the back as she elevated you 500 stories in the air, bringing you to her eye level.

“The fuck you doing back here?” Erika questioned. You were having trouble keeping eye contact as her intimidating face was too much, even when you were normal-sized. “Come back to charge me for more bullshit?”

“No!” You pleaded. “I-I-I-I don’t-”

“Shut the fuck up, bitch!” She let your body roll in the center of her dry palm and collapsed her fingers together to form a fist. She squeezed your body tight with unbearable pressure, laughing at the way you screamed for mercy.

She opened her palm again, and you were looking up at her, waiting for the giantess’ judgment. Her lips stretched into a devious smirk as the edge of her fingers tilted towards her sweaty, DD-sized breasts.

“You wanna take my money? Go’on and fish for it.”

Erika laughed as her palm tilted enough for you to slide off and fall deep into the depths of her coconut-scented breasts. Your hands tried to stop the descent, but her melons were incredibly smooth from the mix of lotion and heated sweat. You stood no chance as your entire world became trapped in darkness.

For a single minute, you were adjusting to your new captivity, pushing away the giant dollar bills and taking in the layers of flavored body musk invading your nostrils, until your footing was disturbed by her fingers reaching from below.

One hand held her right breast mid-air, while the other dug under her tank top and shuffled her black bra to push your tiny body in the center of the sturdy cup. It was incredibly warm and damped by the accumulation of sweat from walking around all day in the heat.

With no warning, Erika dropped her right boob like a rock and let gravity pin you rightly against her plump nipple. The tiny groove and bumps rubbed against your face, and the attempt to make some breathing room only stimulated Erika and make the space shorter by her hardening nipple.

You tried your best to squirm away from the center, but you felt the pressure behind you become sturdier as Erika’s massive palm push you closer to her horny nipple. You eventually accepted your fate and enjoyed the new ride you found yourself in.

With your arms and legs immobile, only your tongue could move and try to lick the sensitive nipple into submission. You heard slight, deep moans happening above you, and encouraged you to get even more frisky by taking a bite and nibbling on her breasts.

All of a sudden, you could feel Erika running somewhere, and the momentum of her breasts started bouncing up and down. You found yourself trapped in a sweaty bounce house, enjoying the nanoseconds of being flipped in the air before being brutally slammed against her cup.

This went on for about thirty flips until you heard the creaks of a bed and Erika’s whole body lying sideways. Your whole world seemed peaceful until her chubby fingers clawed between her breasts and pulled you out into the light. You were facing her once again, but her expression was less angry and more jolly.

“Boy, whatchu think you were doing down there?” Erika said.

“I’m sorry!” You shrieked, believing that you were in trouble. “I-I couldn’t breathe down there, so I was trying to make some room.”

“Uhuh.” She said. “You ain’t fooling no one, bitch. I saw the way you were eyeing me earlier. I see you.”

You couldn’t say anything. The redness of your face said all she needed to hear, and the sight of your embarrassment made her all the more giddy.

“You ain’t bad, new guy. Still don’t think you shit compared to the other dude, but I can get some better use out of you.”

Erika wrapped your warm, coconut-scented body in a fist and led you down toward her tight spandex shorts. Her free hand pulled the waistband open, revealing her shaved, hungry pussy.

“Lemme see that tongue work, boy, and don’t you lemme catch you holding out on me. My turn to feed you, bitch. Bon appetite.”

Again, with no warning, Erika shoved you face-first into her vagina, letting her moist lips keep you locked in position. The entire area was clouded in a fishy musk and the sharp, stubble remains of her bush. 

You looked back at Erika, who gave you a playful air kiss before letting go of her waistband and trapping you in her dank pussy. The elasticity was so tight that you had no way of escaping without her help. All you could manage was squirming your limbs in the wrinkles of her dark, vaginal lips, inhaling the stench fuming from her womanhood.

Suddenly, you felt a painful flick from her finger whip your back. “Damn, bitch, get yo ass to work or I’ll do it for ya!”

You didn’t waste another second and slid your tongue between the folds of her thick pussy and sucked hard until her body squirmed in delight. For the rest of your dream, you crawled around and moisten every inch of her sex until the both of you were blissfully satisfied.