Scott Stevens felt the all-too-familiar rush of warmth fall over his skin as he basked in the horrifying flash of green light from his mother’s handheld ray-emitting device as she gripped it in her fist, pointing it directly at her son, her face twisted into a horrified frown.  He shivered with fear, a few tears rolling down his cheek as he looked down, watching the ground rapidly approaching, his body descending into the rippling mass of his clothes.  Barely a second had passed before the eighteen-year-old found himself buried, naked and cold, somewhere in his t-shirt.  Wasting no time, the lad clambered over the fabric folds and dashed onto the carpet, making a break for it, dodging a few empty beer bottles he had accidentally left unoccupied on his bedroom floor for his mother to find and become enraged over.  He knew he wouldn’t have much time, and being a little tipsy, it was hard to move in straight line, but he had to run.  He had to.

                His mother, towering over him like a cruel goddess, pocketed the shrinking apparatus she had just used to reduce her son to a mere three inches tall, and began padding confidently after her scampering offspring, her massive bare feet sending threatening rumblings into the carpet that nearly knocked Scott over as he dove underneath the couch, not stopping until he was back against the wall.  He stared outward toward the light in horror, seeing the cataclysmic sight of his mother’s plump, powerful feet, her toes painted a playful dark purple as was so frequently the case, coming closer and closer, her footsteps shaking the ground beneath him.  It was like being hunted by a pair of panthers.

                Slowly, Judy Stevens knelt down by the couch, brushing her blonde hair out of her eyes and smiled, her plush lips pursing with amusement as her young adult son cowered like a baby mouse in the darkness, hoping she wouldn’t see him.  Of course, both of them knew better than this, but Judy was enthused none the less by Scott’s efforts.  It made it all the more fun once she inevitably caught him.

                “Sweetie, we’ve been over this.  There’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” mused Judy with an air of false kindness, peeking at her terrified, naked son hiding underneath.  “You’re a beautiful boy, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of.  I’m your mother.  You don’t have to hide anything from me…”  Slowly, Judy’s hand reached back toward her quivering son, her long fingers outstretched.

                “M-M-Mom… please… d-d-don’t…”

                “Don’t?  And why not?” asked Judy, grinning sweetly and halting her hand for a moment.

                “I h-h-hate it… I said I was sorry, I’ll never d-d-do anything like this ag-g-gain, ever, it was… a… it was a m-m-mistake.  Please?”

                Judy bit her lip, as if considering this for a moment, but simply shook her head.  “I’m sorry, sweetie.  I used to just let things like this slide, and you know what happened?  It only got worse.  Believe me, I know; I wasn’t exactly the best rule follower when it came to things like this in high school, and I understand your urge to have drinks, but I had no one to help me and get me the intervention I needed.  This is for your own good.  I want you to be a courteous, respectful young man once you head off to college next fall.  And… this way, I can help you become just that.  Now come on out of there…” cooed Judy, continuing to reach forward, fingers outstretched.  Scott winced as his mother’s meaty fingertips brushed gently along his side, then slowly curled around his leg, gripping him.  Then, with the utmost care, Judy tugged, pulling her son out from under the darkness of the couch.  Gulping, Scott didn’t struggle, knowing it would be a fruitless effort anyway, and barely even cringed from embarrassment as he was dragged back into the warm light of the living room before his kneeling mother, who still towered hopelessly over him.

                Three inches was admittedly slightly more bearable to Scott than his mother’s normal preferred adjustment of him to one inch, but right now, laying naked and helpless on the carpet before her, it made little difference.  Judy’s sheek blue sundress rippled and swayed slightly all the way down her body, hugging her healthy curves and sides as she sat on her knees, still easily appearing like a monolithic tower of woman over her son.  The woman wasn’t overweight or even particularly close to it, but as a result of having three children and being in her mid-forties, Judy had acquired a certain curviness to her body, her hips being a little wider than in her youth, her breasts having swelled a bit as well. 

                Placing her large, well-manicured hands on her hips, Judy smiled down at her son, trying to appear friendly, but Scott knew better.  She seemed always to relish the opportunity to stare down at her shrunken offspring like this, placing herself in a position of higher power.  Judy loved her children, and Scott knew this, but he could never shake the feeling that she got an above-average sense of satisfaction from carrying out this particular punishment, particularly on her eldest son Scott, who by far was forced to experience it the most.

                “See, sweetie?” whispered Judy softly, extending a finger and stroking it gently along her son’s side.  “It’s so much nicer out here… with Mommy.”  As if to pour salt in the wound, whenever Judy shrunk her children, her voice always got deceptively sweeter, and she insisted on referring to herself as “Mommy,” as if trying to emotionally break down her trouble-making offspring by making them feel even more like young children being chided for wrongdoing.  “Tell me it’s nicer out here with Mommy.”

                “It’s… nicer out here,” groaned Scott, having learned long ago it was far better to just comply with his mother’s absurd demands and get it over with.  The quicker Judy was satisfied, the quicker all of this could end.

                “With…” drawled Judy expectantly.

                “Mommy,” sighed Scott.

                Judy nodded.  “That’s right.  I’m glad my… little boy… agrees,” she smiled warmly.  “Now, first things first: we need to get you cleaned up a little.”  Slowly, the woman’s outstretched palm descended toward her son, and pressed snugly against the front of his body.  Her fingers quickly followed suit, wrapping themselves around Scott’s sides and back and squeezing just enough to grip him.  Scott writhed uncomfortably for a moment, trying not to let his dick be squished at an awkward angle by his mother’s finger, although Judy seemed to notice this and adjusted her finger, allowing her son’s diminutive junk to slide easily between a crevice of her fingers.  Slowly, then, plucking her little nude son from the carpet, Judy rose to a standing position and stalked confidently toward her bedroom.

                Scott was a little taken aback by this.  It still wasn’t a pleasant prospect, but generally Judy went straight for the humiliation games once she had reduced her children in size.  Something else was up here, but Scott couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

                “All right, sweetie, let’s get you looking and smelling a little nicer, hmm?” asked Judy softly, still gripping her son in one hand and turning on the sink faucet with the other, holding her fingers underneath the stream of crashing water to test its temperature.

                “W-Why?” squeaked Scott, unsure of whether or not he wanted to know the answer.

                “I’ve got a surprise for you, that’s why,” winked Judy, shaking her head to get the stray droplets off.  “The water’s warm enough, are you ready?”

                “I… guess…” sighed Scott as Judy’s hand descended down toward the water, which was pooling slowly at the base of the sink.  However, as his mother’s gargantuan hand descended into the pool, her fingers didn’t release, and with annoyance, Scott realized Judy had no intention of allowing her tiny son to clean on his own.  After swishing around in the water for a moment, loosening her fingers and allowing Scott’s body to be mostly submerged in the warm water and be thoroughly soaked, Judy’s hand rose out again.  Now, as her hand had been soaked as well, Judy’s flesh was a little more slippery, making it harder for Scott to stay in place, although as usual, his mother was aware of the problem and gripped him a little more readily to avoid losing him.  Of course, for Scott, this meant having his fully exposed body pressed even more firmly against the cushy skin of his mother’s hand, as well as having his microscopic cock squeezed just a little more tightly in the woman’s finger crevice.

                “Now… some soap,” whispered Judy with a smile, bringing Scott underneath the dispenser and opening her fingers, allowing her son to sprawl helplessly into her open palm as her other hand pressed firmly down on the plastic soap bottle’s lid, allowing an orange glob of the stuff to drop into her hand and onto Scott’s torso.  Cupping her son back into her palm with her fingers, Judy winked down at Scott’s unsure expression and slowly laid her other palm down on top of him, sandwiching the boy between her hands, his form instantly swallowed up by the thick skin and soft fingers.  Then, satisfied, Judy began twisting her palms against one another, spreading the soap and turning it into thick suds, with Scott’s body in the middle receiving the brunt of it as she scrubbed him, leaving no part of his body untended to.

                Scott groaned, gasping for air, swallowed up by the darkness of his mother’s hands, as her palms slid easily over his body, lubricated by the sudsy soap bubbles.  It wasn’t particularly painful, as his mother’s hands were very soft, but it was inevitable that a few stray suds made their way into Scott’s mouth as he attempted to get enough oxygen.  It didn’t take long to coat Scott’s whole body in the stuff, and once again Judy opened her hand, catching a glimpse of her boy, coughing up a few soap bubbles in her palm.  She beamed.

                “Oh, you’re looking cleaner already, sweetie.  You’re doing such a great job.  Thanks for not giving Mommy a hard time about this, I know you usually like to wash yourself, it’s just that… we don’t have very much time, and I figured it would be faster this way.  Besides…” winked Judy, bringing her hand closer to her face for a better look at her son.  “…it makes me feel good to be able to give you a bath again, like when you were a baby.”

                Scott had no comment as Judy lowered her hand back toward the sink, submerging it just enough so that it created a miniature bathtub of hand flesh for her son, who simply floated uncaringly in the soapy water.  Not saying other word, Judy began to hum a cheerful tune, smiling as she did so, and brought her other hand into view, her fingers clawed as if they were about to snatch up the tiny boy from the sink for some other vile purpose.  However, Scott simply laid still as his mother’s fingers gripped his sides and began slipping up and down, spreading the soap and massaging his body at the same time.  Judy seemed to take a certain delight in this kind of thing, and since it was admittedly better than a lot of the other “activities” the mother had planned when her son was small enough to hold in the palm of her hand, Scott resolved to just let it happen.

                Judy pressed her thumb down against Scott’s stomach firmly, although not enough to cut off his airflow, and began stroking up and down his torso with it, spreading the suds along his chest and abdomen, even lifting his arms so she could scrub gently into his armpits.  Then, with his upper body fully cleansed, Judy switched to her pointer finger and began caressing her son’s legs, spreading the soap down to his tiny feet and then back up his calves.  Pressing him just far enough to get a better view, Judy massaged Scott’s back and shoulders, spending a few extra seconds in this area just kneading gently, as if trying to relieve some tension.  Scott couldn’t help but experience a pleasantly warm feeling from this, although he knew it was foolish to think this was going to end up well.  After ample attention here, Judy’s pointer finger descended down to Scott’s buttocks, which quickly clenched as if in self-defense.  Giggling at this impulse of her son’s, Judy sighed and began prodding at the boy’s bare rear end with a soapy fingertip.  At last satisfied, the woman pressed on her son’s chest and caused him to lean back so she could reach the last unwashed area of his body.

                Scott shivered with discomfort and nervousness as Judy’s finger slipped between his legs without even asking or warning him first.  At first flicking gently at her son’s tiny dangling dick and balls, Judy set to work, scrubbing under Scott’s scrotum with her soft finger and then moved up, settling on his penis and rubbing for just a little longer than was necessary.  Scott clenched his teeth, inevitably getting a pleasurably warm sensation in his core as his mother’s finger gently fondled his cock with the slick soap, the warm water pervading everything around him and not helping matters at all.  However, just before Scott felt his crotch begin to harden against his will, Judy removed her finger, smiling at her son.

                “Sweetie, I hope you’re not embarrassed by this… it’s a compliment, but…”

                “What?”

                “You certainly are well-endowed, aren’t you?” she winked.  “You have excellent genes for it, of course.”

                Cringing in disgust and awkwardness over essentially having his junk paid a compliment by his own mother, Scott resolved to put this out of his mind and waited patiently as Judy’s fingers lowered him back into the water, giving him a thorough rinse before bringing him back out as she slowly padded into her walk-in closet.

                “There.   Now, was that so terrible, baby boy?” cooed Judy in such a stickily sweet voice it made Scott want to cover his ears.  “Mommy just wants her little boy to be clean and look good for it.”

                “For WHAT?” asked Scott, beginning to get impatient as he shook his arms out to dry.  Slowly, Judy’s hand lowered down toward the ground, although Scott couldn’t quite make out where they were in the closet.

                “For my BOOK club, silly!  They’ll be here any minute!” laughed Judy, sending a fresh chill down Scott’s spine as her fingers released, allowing the boy to tumble downward into a black heel that was resting peacefully on the carpet.  Scott barely had time to react as he slammed into the toe section of the shoe and suddenly found his mother’s foot descending rapidly into the heel, her juicy toes wrapping possessively over his cold, wet naked body as her thick heel settled comfortably in, sealing him inside.  “And they are going to absolutely LOVE you!”

                The next ten minutes were absolute hell for Scott.  With each footfall, his mother’s toes would press downward onto his sides and legs, then squeeze around him as they pushed off of the ground to take another step.  The environment was muggy and devoid of fresh air, the leathery scent heavily pervading each breath.  Scott had a feeling Judy was purposefully making her toes writhe a little more than was necessary, the somewhat greasy skin of each one rubbing themselves over every inch of his body at each available opportunity.  Eventually, intermittently between the loud clacks of his mother’s heels against the hardwood, he heard new sounds: doorbells, clinking of wine glasses, the flapping of book pages, and the excited chatter of women’s voices.  The club seemed to be getting started, and Scott was already far past sick of this event.  All he wanted to do was curl up in his bed and pretend for a few hours that his mother was a little more lenient than this.

                It wasn’t long before Judy finally stopped walking, and some of the pressure was alleviated from Scott’s body, indicating that his mother had finally taken a seat in the front living room, where the meeting was being held.  The chatter seemed to continue on for a few minutes more, until finally, Scott felt his mother’s toes sliding off of his body and up the slope of the heel, out the opening.  Confused, the boy crawled up the fabric instep of the pump and looked up into Judy’s descending palm just in time to find her thumb and forefinger pinching themselves around his sides, plucking him out of the heel.  Gasping, Scott tried to resist uselessly as Judy calmly raised her bite-sized son out of the smelly prison of her shoe.

                No.  She wouldn’t do this to him.  Not in front of other people.  Surely she wouldn’t sink so low?

                There was no way in hell this was going to be anything short of the most humiliating event of his entire life.  Scott wanted to puke.

                “Shhh… don’t worry, you’ll be back in soon, sweetie,” whispered Judy lovingly, depositing Scott into her open palm.  Frantically, Scott curled into a ball, placing his hands over his exposed privates, and gazed over the huge room at the tremendous gawking faces of the forty-somethings staring him down.  Scott recognized all of his mother’s book club friends, as he had seen them multiple times before this, and yet somehow those meetings were different.  For one thing, he had clothes on, and for another, he was taller than their thumbs.

                “Ladies…” announced Judy proudly. “You all… remember Scott, don’t you?”

                “Oh, of COURSE!” squealed Jill Robinson gleefully.  Always one of the most enthusiastic of Judy’s friends, Jill was always the one with something to say about any given matter, a spark of massive enthusiasm glinting in her green eyes as she crossed a leg and gripped her knee through her flowery sun dress.

                “How are you, babe?” giggled Nancy Dugan, leaning forward with a huge, eager smile, her eyes growing wider as they drank in the sight of the tiny boy sprawled in his mother’s hand like a baby bird waiting helplessly for food.  Nancy, while still being rather striking and good-looking, appeared to be hanging desperately onto these attributes, as she, being the eldest of the group at 49 years old, appeared to have undergone several botox treatments and hair coloring procedures that, while they allowed her to retain a glowing appearance, made her skin look unnaturally taut to Scott, as if she had marched confidently in from some “Real Housewives” set without even batting an artificial eyelash.

                “I’m… fine…” peeped Scott, not wanting to have his mother become irritated with his lack of manners and worsen his punishment somehow (not that he knew how such a thing could possibly be done, but Scott didn’t put it past his mother finding a way to make the worst thing ever even worse).

                “I didn’t hear him, Judy, what did he say?” asked Carolyn Ferrell, brushing away some stray hairs from her hazel bob cut and cupping her hand around her ear.  Judy smiled, repeating what Scott had said to Carolyn, who nodded and smiled sweetly at Scott.  Of the women assembled here, Carolyn was the only one who didn’t particularly embarrass Scott quite as much as the others.  Being a close family friend, Carolyn was practically like an aunt to Scott and had known him literally since birth.  Nonetheless, he would’ve preferred not to be seen by anyone in this state, even one as close as her.

                “Well, Scott…” came a steady, sultry voice from the corner of the room.  “Normally I’d tell you you’ve grown about a foot since I last saw you, but… I don’t think that would be very accurate now, would it?”

                The whole room erupted into laughter while Scott just cowered in utter embarrassment, clenching his eyes shut and imagining the smug look of satisfaction on the face of Susan Cartwright, the owner of the voice.  Youthful looking, full-bodied, and tall, Susan was perhaps the most voluptuous of the group, and as a result had been the victim of two cheating husbands that had left her with a bitter hatred of all men, no matter how hard they tried to be nice to her, which she enacted through cruel and unneeded jokes at the expense of all unlucky enough to be within her radius.  Scott, in particular, was often the brunt of her chidings when she visited because of his well-known misbehaving antics, and as a result, the boy had developed a hatred for her as well.

                “Well, sweetie… time for you to learn a little lesson, okay?” piped Judy, lowering her palm toward the carpet and tilting it so that Scott rolled easily out of it, a few inches away from the tip of her now-unoccupied heel, which she quickly refilled with her massive and meaty foot, wriggling her classically purple-painted toes with delight as she did.  “Ladies, we’re going to have a special… treat today, courtesy of my son, who I… found with empty beer bottles in his room,” she sighed with embarrassment.

                The women all gasped, a couple placing their hands over their hearts, and then they all looked down at the carpet at the tiny naked perpetrator of such an apparently unthinkable crime.  Susan took the opportunity to extend a waggling finger and make a tsk, tsk sound with her tongue and the roof of her mouth. 

                Scott fought back a scowl at her.

                “So, like I told you… if you’d like, Scott will be more than willing to accommodate you if you’re in need of a little… massage, shall we say?” winked Judy to the women, who all snickered knowingly.  “So, before we begin the book discussion… would anyone like to-”

                “I would, Judy!” interjected Jill, not even waiting for the sentence to finish.  She looked down at Scott and winked, grinning toothily at him. 

                “-go first.  Of course, Jill,” laughed Judy, who had a feeling this would happen.  “Scott, sweetie?  Please walk over to Jill and have a seat in her shoe.”  It was all the boy could do to not flinch at the sight of the forty-three-year-old woman trying to look almost seductively down at him while towering over him like an office building.  Gingerly, Jill dangled her green pump lithely off the ends of her dexterous toes before allowing it to plop on the carpet upright, her bare foot crossed over her other knee and stretching and arching to air out, as if waving down to Scott, warning him of what was coming.

                Scott stared down at the ground, far too humiliated to want to interact in any meaningful way with these women besides simply carrying out his mother’s commands so as to end the torment as soon as possible.  He shuffled forward across the floor toward the vacant emerald green pump, a pleasantly minty aroma of some exotic foot lotion wafting around near it.  He could hear Jill giggling feverishly from above.

                “Don’t be shy, hon.  Climb right in,” she cooed playfully.  Scott looked up just enough to see her right foot flattened against the carpet now, her thick, dry heel tapping impatiently against the ground with a soft thud each time, her long toes rippling slowly, the sunlight that reached under the coffee table beaming off of her brilliantly shining silver nails. 

                Anticipating.  Eager, almost.  She could hardly wait to get the belittled teenager under her wrinkled sole.

                Gulping, Scott resolved to just keep moving and avoid a breakdown as long as possible.  Grabbing ahold of the green leather, Scott pulled a leg over the opening and slipped into the felt interior of the pump.

                “You can just lay on down, Scott.  I’ll take care of the rest,” winked Jill.  Scott shuddered but tried to hide his contempt, not particularly wanting to get on anyone’s bad side when he was in such a vulnerable position.  Obviously, he knew that no actual harm would come to him during this, but he wouldn’t put his mother above granting any of her friends permission to increase the tenuousness of his punishment as they saw fit.  Sighing, the eighteen-year-old calmly laid down, letting his legs slip down into the shadowy tip of the pump, and rested his back against the heel segment of the shoe.

                “Hmm… no, hon.  The other way.  Turn yourself the other way, okay?” suggested Jill sweetly, although Scott knew she wasn’t actually giving him the option.  Groaning softly, he curled himself up and turned around, slowly allowing himself to slide backward down the declined surface of the pump until his head came to rest in the darkness of the toe section.  The somewhat bearable minty aroma was instantly mixed with a tangy scent of sweat-soaked leather lining the interior of the shoe like sticky, organic wallpaper.  Scott coughed quietly, having become far more used to this smell than any young man his age should reasonably have been considered to be.  “Theeeeere…” drawled Jill throatily, delighted.  “Now just hold still, hon.”

                Scott swallowed hard, staring up at the opening of the shoe, and watched hopelessly as the light entering into the musty darkness of the pump was blocked out by Jill’s bare foot rising higher and higher above the shoe, preparing to dive in.  Her sole scrunching, her toes wriggling, her heel bending, Jill pointed her big toe and slowly slipped it into the pump.  In moments, Scott felt his body being buried under the crushing, fleshy weight of Jill’s sole, his head soon meeting a similar fate as it became entwined between the thick, meaty toes of the towering woman’s all-too eager foot.  Jill seemed to have been more prepared for this than she let on, because Scott barely had a moment to try and get his bearings before her digits began writhing uncomfortably, bopping her soft toe prints against his unfortunate face.  Scott shivered and tried not to inhale, as the salty scent was increased tenfold in such close proximity to the woman’s fleshy toe crevices, which seemed like peachy breeding grounds for foot sweat that was practically coaxed out of her pores whenever she wore these thick green leather pumps.

                “How does it feel, sugar?” came the voice of Susan, weakened by the sound-resistant wall of leather around the shoe, but Scott could make out the words when he concentrated.

                “Oh, GOD, it’s… amazing…” whispered Jill with satisfaction.  As she said this, Scott felt her toes stop wriggling and instantly curl downward, gripping tightly around his head.  The teen yelped softly as his head was inserted snugly between the titanic forty-three-year-olds toe crevice, his face settling disgustingly against the warm flesh, which was quickly working up a slick layer of sweat and trickling outward.  Admittedly, Jill seemed to take better care of her feet than Judy, as her skin was much softer and well-pampered, but this didn’t change the fact that her foot was unceremoniously laid across Scott’s entire naked body. 

                The teen was embarrassed whenever his mother did this to him, but it was somehow always helped slightly by the fact that she was, indeed, his mother, and had changed him as a baby and raised him.  Hell, even when his girlfriend had taken a try with wearing him in her shoe, it hadn’t been this bad.

                Now, however, he was being fully exposed and even touched by one of his mother’s friends: an outsider, who didn’t seem at all concerned with the humiliation she was putting the boy through.  As Jill’s monumental toes on each side of Scott’s fact, acting like a soft, fleshy vice, began rigorously squirming again, Scott blushed a deeper shade of red than he’d have ever thought possible.  At this moment, the teen half-heartedly felt himself wish for death, or at least a debilitating coma.

                The next fifteen minutes passed uneventfully.  Jill settled into a pattern of, every thirty seconds or so, gently squeezing her toes inward.  This would compress her soft toe flesh against Scott’s face and torso each time, which would inevitably print a new layer of fresh sweat droplets along the unfortunate teen’s face.  His face and lips sticky with Jill’s drying foot sweat, Scott eventually had to settle into a rhythm of coughing and breathing more heavily when his head wasn’t being lovingly squeezed by his mother’s friend’s big toe.  The spicy aroma made it hard to do this, though, and particularly when his face was compressed against the warm skin between Jill’s grungy toes, the stale and fleshy taste meeting his lips was nearly unbearable.

                The end couldn’t come soon enough.  Scott couldn’t hear what was being said particularly well beyond a vague murmur of the discussion on the club’s book, but at long last, he felt Jill’s toes pulling out of the shoe.  For a moment, glued stickily by gummy dried sweat, Scott felt himself sticking to the woman’s toes and his body being dragged along the well-worn sole of the shoe.  Thrashing quickly, though, Scott managed to free himself just as Jill tenderly tipped her heel over, allowing the boy to roll roughly out onto the carpet.  Gasping for breath and getting his bearings, Scott stood to his feet and coughed, managing a look up at his mother, who was smirking down at him, one of her legs crossed, her hands folded together regally on her lap. 

                This was going to be a very, very long meeting.

                “Okay, Mom… now… please… get me out of here and unshrink me!” gasped Scott as he wandered closer to his mother, keeping his hands firmly over his naked junk as the embarrassment of once again being exposed to the entire room of his mother’s friends sunk in.

                Judy winked at Scott, and for a moment it looked like she was complying.  However, with a quick sigh, the boy realized his opinion wasn’t of great importance to his mother at the moment, or the rest of the book club, for that matter.  This theory was confirmed when Judy lithely slid her left foot out of the black heel, wriggling her bulbous toes and stretching them once out of the muggy confines of the shoe.  Then, slowly, her foot fully arched, Judy extending her leg forward, toward her son.

                Scott, still a little out of it after being baked in the hot, smelly confines of Jill’s shoe, gasped and found his reaction time functioning just a little too slow to avoid having his mother’s meaty toes wrap themselves around his head and neck.  He quivered, slapping his hands in frustration at his mother’s massive toes, but he didn’t dare try to wriggle his way out.  If he fought too hard, he would put himself in danger of breaking his neck.  If there was one thing Scott had learned well, it was that when his mother had made up her mind, she was going to stick to it, no matter the consequences, and that included right now.  Even if he fought back, he knew she would keep her toes resolutely clasped around his face and neck, forcing him to remain obediently in this overly humiliating position without her having to move a single extra muscle to achieve the effect from her offspring.

                “All right, ladies,” grinned Judy, clenching her toes tightly around her little son’s head, forcing him to once again endure the painfully rancid stench emanating from between her smelly digits.  The giggling from the women that followed this was almost as unbearable to Scott as the rotten aroma of the plump toes currently squeezing him into the flesh.  “Who’d like a turn with my son next?”

                Reluctantly, Judy released her toes, allowing her son to fall onto his backside groggily.  Grumbling silently, Scott looked back at the ground, mentally cursing Judy.  He felt like he was being whored around town to a bunch of high-end buyers looking for a quick fix at his expense.  Only instead of a pimp, it was his own mother, and instead of customers, it was the gargantuan bare feet of a bunch of glammed up forty-somethings.  Just about everything else in this situation, though, made Scott feel like he was being taken advantage of wildly.

                “C’mon, ladies, don’t be shy,” giggled Judy.  “It feels good… trust me, I know… very well.”

                “I’ll bet you do, you dirty lady,” cooed Susan playfully, causing the other women to chuckle.

                “Oh, stop it,” smiled Judy, winking.  “Vouch for me, Jill?”

                Scott peered back upward at Jill, who was still right behind him, as she lowered her foot back into the heel and shifted it around for a few seconds, idly getting it to fit snugly back in place.  She moaned softly, grinning.  “Give him a try, ladies, seriously.  It was fantastic.”  Looking downward, she smiled at Scott and waved giddily at him.  “You, little man, have a real gift for that kind of thing.  If you charged for massages like that, you’d make enough to pay for your college before you even got there.  Heck, I’d be your first customer.”

                Scott had no response to this, but hung his head again slowly.

                “Awww, I think I embarrassed him, Judy,” sighed Jill, sounding somewhat upset.

                “Don’t worry about it, Jill, I’m reprimanding him, remember?”

                “Yes… yes, I guess so,” replied Jill, satisfied.  She leaned forward, cupping her hands around her mouth and whispering.  “Anytime you think of it, honey, give me a call and I’ll be glad to toss a few bucks your way for the same deal.”

                Scott shivered at various levels of disgust.

                “Really, now, who’s next?” asked Judy, shaking her head in amusement.

                “He knows me, Judy,” said Carolyn softly.  “Maybe he’d feel a little more comfortable in my shoe.”

                “That’s fine,” smiled Judy before looking expectantly down at her naked son on the carpet.  “Go ahead, sweetie.  You have another fan over there.”

                Shrugging, Scott mentally resolved once again to keep marching forward and made his way toward Carolyn Ferrell.  He could feel the eyes of all the women in the room scanning almost greedily over his entirely exposed body.  It felt like the literal living out of a nightmare where one shows up to school or on a stage with no clothes on.  In this case, Scott didn’t have to just compare.  It was real.

                Scott came to a stop in front of Carolyn, her feet resting in a pair of badly worn out brown leather sandals.  Glancing at his next stop, Scott couldn’t help but notice that Carolyn didn’t seem to have taken care of her feet as precociously as his mother or Jill, as her toenails were uneven and her feet looked particularly dried out; rough, even.  She scrunched her toes hard against the base of the shoe as she slid her right heel out the back, leaving room.

                “Go ahead, honey.  I won’t press too hard on you,” said Carolyn kindly.  She arched her mature sole a few times as if inviting him to crawl into his own sarcophagus.  Groaning as quietly as possible, Scott climbed past a thick leather strap of the sandal and crawled across the beaten, discolored center of the sandal, surrounded by a hazy odor of oily lotion, and laid down flat on his back, looking upward as Carolyn’s foot blocked out the light of the room, lowering slowly down onto its new elfin masseuse.  Scott took a deep breath as his world become drowned in the toughened sole flesh of Carolyn’s right foot as it settled comfortably back into the sandal.

                True to her word, Carolyn didn’t press down and seemed to be mostly keeping her foot arched over the boy, allowing him some breathing space and even the luxury of a few nanometers of wiggle room, which was a real treat unto itself.  Whenever Scott found himself in his mother’s shoe, he frequently had little movement options beyond fighting weakly against an onslaught of smooth and muscular toes as if he was being gang-raped by his mother’s probing foot.  Carolyn, however, seemed almost afraid of being impolite as she held the tiny teen captive for a short stay in her thoroughly used sandal.

                To Carolyn’s credit, Scott at least found himself not becoming caked in sticky foot sweat due to the open sides of the sandal allowing the appendage exposure to air, unlike Jill, whose foot was essentially being cooked in that thick green heel.  As a result, the smell was thick and fleshy but by no means inhumanly oppressive.  Compared to some of the things he had experienced in his mother’s shoe in the past, this was a cake walk.  The view in front of his face was a thick, peachy canvas of wrinkled and dry sole skin with the occasional white patch of peeling flakes that occasionally rippled with dozens of tiny cracks as Carolyn arched her foot harder.

                Finally settling in, Scott tried to mentally walk himself out of the nervousness of having a thousand-ton leg hovering precarious inches away from his face, although it wasn’t easy.  At the very least, he had ended up in the shoe of a close family friend, and a woman Scott practically considered to be an aunt.  She had babysat him and his two younger siblings years ago, had attended birthday parties and grade school graduations, and even rocked them to sleep as babies.  Now, as his mother was carrying out one of the cruelest forms of an already exceedingly cruel punishment she had invented a while back, Carolyn seemed to know that he was going to have to go through this in some form or another, and it would be best to experience it with little pressure and under the cautious foot of a spiritual family member.

                For once in his life, while shrunken, naked, and as helpless as he could probably get, Scott felt almost at ease and safe in this woman’s shoe.  Even comforted by her protective instinct of his wellbeing and emotional state.  Scott felt actual gratitude for being welcomed so quickly into Carolyn’s shoe in order to help hide himself from the inevitable embarrassment of being touched in so vulnerable a form.  In being honest with himself, Scott realized he wouldn’t even have minded having the warm skin of Carolyn’s foot lower itself on top of him and pin him down to the sandal.

                As if his mind had been read, Scott heard Susan smarmily speaking up.

                “You going to get on with it, Carolyn, so we can get back to the discussion?” she interjected loudly.

                “Yes… yes, I guess so,” said the woman, sighing and looking down at Scott.  She grimaced with pity, obviously feeling a twinge of guilt for what she was about to do.  Hoping to comfort her and thank her for making this the least awkward it could be, Scott nodded to her.  She blinked, smiling as kindly as she could down at him, and slowly lowered her sole down onto him, flattening him into the base of her sandal with surprising care, squashing him gently against the plain of her smooth skin.

                Scott managed to find some kind of mental peace as he focused on the feeling of the woman’s marble-like, wrinkled foot skin mushing softly down onto every square inch of his exposed body, the ball of her foot sliding easily over his face, warming him up and somehow making him feel safe despite the fact that this family friend could render him a crimson smear if she were to stand up at this very instant.

                Scott blinked groggily, realizing he had more or less lost consciousness as his body, warm and plastered with a light, sticky layer of Carolyn’s foot sweat, was able to freely move again as the woman’s heavy, wrinkled sole gingerly lifted itself off of him, arching in the heel.

                “Oh, my God, Carolyn,” giggled a voice that Scott recognized as Nancy’s.  “You must have the magic touch.”  Blinking a few more times and rubbing his eyes, Scott looked up out of the shoe to find all of the women crowded around Carolyn’s leg, staring down at the tiny naked teen laying in the base of her shoe.  He blushed, quickly placing his hands over his crotch, watching the gigantic circle of women all snicker at his modesty far above him.  His eyes followed up along Carolyn’s smooth leg, past her knee, and up to her face, where he made eye contact with her.  She grinned sheepishly at him: the only one not rude enough to laugh at his misfortune.  It was at this moment, then, that Scott realized he had actually fallen asleep in Carolyn’s shoe.  Not gone unconscious or been knocked out, but physically soothed into slumber by the comforting touch of her soft skin.

                If this had happened in the shoe of anyone but Carolyn, Scott had no doubt that he would’ve burst into tears from sheer embarrassment.  As it was, it was mind-blowingly humiliating to stare up at the faces of all these women, them staring down at his fully exposed package and knowing that at some subconscious level, he didn’t truly mind so much being in a woman’s shoe as long as she was gentle with him.

                With a cold cringe, Scott had a feeling his mother wouldn’t hesitate to use this as an excuse to implement this particular punishment even more often for his inevitable small-scale crimes.  It would be just the sort of thing Judy would relish when calmly depositing her son into her shoe and letting him get tangled up in her toes: to not only force him in such a lowly position, but as well, to berate him constantly with cheerful reminders that no matter how much he tried to deny it, he wasn’t really opposed to participating.

                “All right, ladies, we can continue the discussion now… I’m sure my son is suitably embarrassed for the moment, and since he fell asleep, there’s probably only time for one more massage,” winked Judy down at Scott.  Bitterly, Scott knew perfectly well that his mother didn’t believe a word of that, and more just wanted to appear as a more loving parent to her subdued son.  “Carolyn, would you say you’re about done with your turn?”

                “Yes… yes, that’s fine,” answered Carolyn softly, looking down at Scott regrettably, as if trying to apologize on behalf of the women for what he was having to go through.  Scott smiled up at her as if in thanks.  “Thank you, Scott,” she said quietly.

                “Sure thing,” mumbled the boy, clambering out of the shoe and back onto the carpet.  Gulping, he turned toward Judy as she took her seat again, who extended a long pointer finger far above his head, pointing with a smile to the other side of the room.  Scott turned hesitantly around to find himself facing Nancy and Susan, both of whom were wearing devilish grins across their supple, plumped lips, their perfectly white teeth glistening with delight.  His eyes traveling downward, Scott watched as both women made their right feet writhe against the leather heels they were both wearing, squirming until they could wrestle their heel out and slide the rest of their peachy appendages out, leaving both of their shoes open.

                “Susan, would you like to take a turn?” asked Nancy sweetly, turning to look at her friend.  Scott flinched, feeling even more driven down than before.  He wasn’t even being directly spoken to anymore; it was as if he was being passed around the room like a peace pipe.  A fun object these aging beauty queens could toy with with zero consequence and absolutely no regret on their part at the expense of a teenager’s damaged emotions.

                “That’s nice of you, Nance, but…” drawled Susan, pressing a pointer finger against her chin, obviously trying to concoct the most humiliating possible way this task could be performed in as she studied Scott like a customer might study a piece of meat at the butcher shop window.  “…we’ve had our fun.  Let’s give little Scott here some say in it, hmm?”

                “Um… okay, I guess…” sighed Nancy dejectedly, clearly disappointed with such a prospect, but she shrugged.  “What do you mean?”

                “I mean, let’s let Scott decide.  He thinks he’s man enough to drink alcohol, endangering himself and shaming his poor mother?  Surely, then, he has to think himself man enough to make a choice about the consequences.”

                At this, Nancy’s gleeful smile returned, and she looked back hungrily at Scott, rubbing her hands together greedily.  She smirked victoriously down at him.  “All right, babe, you heard the lady.  Which one of us do you like better?  We’ll let you pick this time.”

                Scott fought back a groan with all his might.  He turned and looked pleadingly at his mother, who, as he expected, simply raised her eyebrows at him, as if telling him to get a move-on.  Quivering with adrenaline, Scott turned back to the women, swallowing hard and trying to make a hasty decision.  It was essentially like picking his poison, but somehow Scott knew there was an objectively better choice here.  Nancy was a bit creepy with her overt seductiveness to basically any man over the age of sixteen, and he had no doubt she would enjoy her turn with gut-wrenching enthusiasm, but at the same time, he knew it would be infinitely preferable to being under the vengeful foot of Susan, whom he was positive would make him feel her hatred of men deep in his bones as she mashed him into her sole flesh to within an inch of his life.

                “Mrs. D-D-Dugan,” he mumbled, trying to keep it together, as he ambled forward.  The women all chuckled a little as Scott got closer and closer to his chosen punisher’s titanic shoe.

                “C’mon, babe, let’s pick up the pace…” giggled Nancy girlishly.  “We only have a few minutes left before the club ends, and I want to make sure I get my full turn with you.” At these words, she began to clench her toes into the fabric of the carpet, scrunching her sole down against it.  Probably in preparation for whatever she had in store for the teen.  Scott trembled painfully.

                Reaching her shoe, Scott sighed heavily, staring into the velvety, dark abyss of the thing.  Despite the fact that Nancy would probably be a little less painfully harsh on Scott than Susan potentially would, her shoe, unfortunately, was a different story.  With a thick velvet-lined exterior, a healthy padded leather exterior, no open toes, and a raised heel, it ensured the shoe was almost definitely going to provide little-to-no air.  Swallowing hard, Scott blinked a few times, getting mentally prepped.

                He didn’t have long for this, though, as he found a strong, meaty big toe gently tapping itself against his rear end.  Blushing and cringing at the same time, Scott took a step forward and a moment later found the big toe sliding itself down the side of his body, Nancy’s second toe snaking its way around his other hip.  Gripping him tightly into her toe crevice, Nancy then raised her foot up over the shoe.  Scott’s blood turned to ice, his legs dangling precariously over the drop, and with no other safety option, he gripped the forty-nine-year-old’s meticulously pedicured toes as if his life depended fully on it.  This didn’t last for long, though, as Nancy jammed her foot roughly into the heel while still gripping Scott’s body between her squirming toes, pressing it firmly down against the pointed toe section.

                Scott almost began hyperventilating, the muggy area instantly overtaking him and making him sweat.  His body was pinned hard against the wall of the shoe, and as he struggled, trying to wrestle free from the grip of Nancy’s toes, he felt a painful twinge in his groin and stopped moving instantly, lest he injure himself.  Despite the darkness of the shoe, the extremely thin crack of light finding its way into the depths of Nancy’s heel allowed him to realize that although he was partially wriggled out of the grip of Nancy’s toes, most of his waist was still entrenched in the crevice, and worse, his dick was pinched firmly between Nancy’s squirming digits.  He sighed with fear, terrified that the woman would unknowingly squeeze her toes and snap off his member.

                As usual, Scott’s fears were not only realized but brought to a far worse form than he could’ve dreamed up in his worst nightmares.

                “What do you think, Nance?” came the muffled voice of Susan through the leather walls of the heel.

                “Oh, it’s fantastic…” chuckled Nancy with pleasure just a little too close for comfort to sounding like arousal.  “You know, it’s… it’s funny, but… my ex, Tom, and I used to play these little games with each other once I got my license to use the ray.  He was… quite a bit younger than me, you know, only about 28, I think, and… well, he still had that youthful energy I love so much.  He always had a thing for… well, my feet, I guess.  He was one of those people.   Not that I minded, of course, since he was pretty good in the sack too, but the thing is, he had this weird little… kink, I guess you could say… where he wanted me to use the ray on him and play with him a bit… down there,” she whispered naughtily, much to the giggling of the book club and Scott’s chagrin.  “This is basically what he used to have me do with him.  I wouldn’t walk anywhere, of course, but once I had him in the shoe, I’d just…”

                “Oh, Nancy, you sly little bitch,” chuckled Susan playfully.

                “You should’ve seen me in high school, honey,” said Nancy as an aside.  “But, anyway, I’d get him in there, right where I wanted him.  I was pretty good at it after a while, too, and I’d just…”

                “Nancy, Nancy, Nancy… you be careful,” said Judy jokingly.  “Scott’s just a little bit below the age range… even for you.”

                “What, are you implying I’m too… old?” snickered Nancy, and at that moment, her toes clamped around Scott’s member.  He winced, gasping for breath and tightening his muscles for impact, until he realized there was no pain, the pressure had simply increased greatly.  His dick was now firmly locked in the thick embrace of this cougar’s toes, and it wasn’t going anywhere until Nancy wanted.  Then, slowly, Scott could feel motion in her flesh.  It was subtle: a simple grinding together of her toes, but it quickly picked up the pace, and in no time at all, Scot could feel a familiar, warm feeling rushing through him: pleasure, ecstasy, hotness.  His brain rattling around confusedly, his heart rate increasing.  His member beginning to enlarge as the gargantuan toes of Nancy continued squirming, still wrapped firmly around Scott’s dick, with the obvious intention of reliving a game she used to play with a man in a past relationship.

                Jesus Christ, thought Scott.  What the fuck is wrong with me?

                Seriously, what the fuck?

                He couldn’t handle it.  The warm, soft skin of her toes.  The powerful, rhythmic pumping motion.  The unbearably oppressive heat clouding his thinking.  The slick lubricant of foot sweat helping Nancy’s toes glide with practiced caution around Scott’s miniscule package, her obvious experience in this type of foreplay given away by her absolute carefulness.  Scott felt no pain, only insane, embarrassing pleasure rushing through him as he was forcibly jacked off by the monstrous foot of this overly eager family friend.  Each squeeze of her toes brought even more intensity, until Scott realized he was moaning with pleasure, his body shaking in preparation for what was inevitably to come.  Literally.

                “Nancy, this has got to be some kind of all-time low for you,” laughed Jill.

                “What are you talking about?  He LOVES this!” snickered Nancy.  “DON’T ya, babe?” she called down toward her foot.  Scott felt the pumping of her toes cease for a moment as her foot flexed, pinning him harder against the velvet wall.  He groaned, his body clearly annoyed at the interruption so close to climax, but soon found Nancy’s toes easily gripping his package and getting right back to business.  All Scott could do was moan loudly in response, despite the humiliation he was feeling.  He couldn’t help it.  It might’ve been disgusting, and mentally, one of the least arousing situations he’d ever been in, and yet he couldn’t deny the sheer, unbelievable experience of Nancy.  She knew the motion perfectly.  She knew exactly how to push all of Scott’s biological buttons, even if he didn’t want her to, forcing a reaction out of him by taking advantage of the simple fact that he was a teenage boy.

                “I’ll take that as a yes,” she sighed with pleasure, and with a final, powerful jerk of her toes, Nancy gripped her foot over Scott more tightly as the shivering teen gasped and reached the single most embarrassing orgasm of his entire life.  Shivering and struggling for breath, the spent teen collapsed on top of Nancy’s fleshy toes, tears of humiliation flowing down his face.

                Scott felt Nancy’s damning toes lifting themselves off of him, his microscopic seed buried somewhere in the fleshy valley of her toe crevice after her terrifying skill at delivering his goods proved true.  However, rather than scrambling for the opening of her pump as he had before, he remained with his back pressed against the velvety wall of the shoe, even without five massive, meaty toes scrunching over his body so hard he had no other choice of location.

                Quickly wiping his hands across his face to get rid of the tears, he sniffled, so beyond embarrassed he felt positively nauseous.  Suddenly, he felt the shoe sliding over as a loud pounding sound emitted from the side as a large object smashed into it.

                “Oops!” squealed Nancy playfully as she retracted her foot again, having successfully kicked her shoe over onto its side, and allowing Scott to tumble helplessly out onto the carpet before her titanic form.

                Scott thought he knew humiliation.  The first time his mother had ever shrunken him and worn him like a toe ornament in her shoes had been etched in his memory as the single worst day of his life.  The soul-crushing feeling that his life had been reduced to literally the scum between his own mother’s writhing, sweaty toes made it difficult to move forward with his life, and yet somehow, the anger of it all made Scott want to act out and take vengeance, even though he knew it would only end in more emotional torture.

                And yet, nothing compared to this.  His mother had just taken her cruelly unusual form of punishment to a whole new level.  It wasn’t just a private thing anymore.  He had been at the vulnerable mercy of all her friends, and worse still, she had stood by, laughing, as her friend Nancy had raped him with her toes in front of the entire group.

                Scott looked up with tear-stained eyes toward Nancy’s cooing face just in time to see her massive, fleshy palm blocking out the light over him, her fingers curling inward as her hand descended on him, engulfing him.  He gasped, feeling her fingers unceremoniously sliding between his legs to grip him more firmly.  He shivered, desperately trying to squirm free from this particular type of grip.  Feeling his efforts, Nancy smiled, her tongue poking joyfully between her teeth, and a moment later she shifted her grip, purposefully sliding her thumb between Scott’s legs and using it to gently cradle his junk.

                “Don’t be nervous, babe,” she grinned toothily, her warm breath wafting over his entire naked body as she brought him closer to her face.  “Believe me, I’ve felt plenty of ‘em before.  I know what I’m doing.”

                “Oh, we ALL know that, Nance,” said Susan sarcastically with a smile.  In retaliation, Nancy playfully smacked the woman’s side with her backhand, pursing her lips in feigned anger, before turning back to Scott’s tiny body in her other hand, a new smile plastered on her lips.

                “Don’t listen to her, Scott.  She’s not as experienced,” winked Nancy.  “And… you weren’t so bad, yourself, babe,” she whispered, sending a disgusted chill up Scott’s spine.

                “Okay, you two, let’s break it up,” laughed Judy as she walked across the room, holding a cupped palm underneath the feminine fingers pinching her son’s body so precariously.  “Scott probably wants to take a shower after all that time down in the trenches.”

                “What, are you IMPLYING something?” gasped Jill jokingly with a gaping jaw, turning to face Scott and frowning.  “Tell me the truth, honey.  Our feet.  Too sweaty?  Not enough?  Just right?  Be honest.”

                “I… I… I…” peeped Scott with embarrassment, but luckily, his mother brought her other hand up, covering her son with her palm and cupping him between her two hands.  For once in his life in this situation, Scott found himself genuinely grateful toward his mother.  That was a question he wasn’t very keen on answering.

                “I’m gonna take Scott away right now.  Thank you, ladies, for giving me a hand in his…” she chuckled warmly.  “…education, but right now, I know… at least, Jill, right?  Has somewhere to be?”

                “Ohhhh, yeah, gotta go grab the kids from soccer before it gets dark so they don’t throw a fit at me,” answered Jill knowingly, rolling her eyes and picking up her purse from the floor and slinging it over her shoulder in preparation to leave.

                “Well, thanks for hosting this week, Judy!” chimed Nancy sweetly.

                “Oh, it was MY pleasure!” said Scott’s mother proudly.

                “Noooo… no, I’m pretty sure it was ours,” replied Nancy suggestively, to which all of the women laughed riotously.  “Careful how you handle these things, or we might want to have ALL our meetings at your house!”

                “Oh, I wouldn’t mind it a bit, but…” continued Judy, chuckling again.  “I think I know a certain someone who would.”  The voices stopped for a moment as the door was squeaked open.  Scott could hear the clattering of high heels against the stone porch outside as the women walked off toward their cars, calling back a cheerful farewell.  Scott breathed a sigh of relief, until he heard a sound that allowed a tiny, niggling doubt to form in his mind that this nightmare wasn’t quite over.

                “Speaking of a certain someone…” came the snide voice of Susan again, who evidently had stayed longer than everyone else.  “Judy, I know this is your private business, so you don’t have to tell me, but… how many times, exactly, did you say Scott’s taken a drink under your roof?”

                “This… would be the second time,” sighed Judy.  “I know.  It’s… it’s ridiculous.  I don’t even know how to handle it much anymore.”

                Scott grumbled quietly.  It was as if he wasn’t even here.  The sound was muffled through the cracks between his mother’s fingers where he was currently caged, sure, but he could hear everything loud and clear.  Worse, he knew they KNEW he could hear everything loud and clear, and yet still here he was, having his personal business flaunted around in front of one of the most judgmental women a person could find.

                “He doesn’t seem to respond very well… even here, does he?” continued Susan slyly.  Her tone of voice was beginning to make Scott seriously nervous.

                “What do you mean?” asked Judy forlornly.

                “Meaning… even when you wear him around for a few hours, he just… doesn’t seem to take a hint, does he?”

                “No, no I’m afraid not,” sighed Judy again.

                “Well… then let me make you an offer here, Judy.  Seeing as I didn’t get a turn and all today…”

                Fuck.

                Jesus Christ, no.

                Scott’s mind went into a frenzy.  He already knew exactly where this was going, and yet he knew there wasn’t a damned thing he could do to alter the conversation’s flow. 

                “Are you saying what I think you’re saying, Susan?” asked Judy with delight, her tone changing instantly.  Just from the sound of her voice, Scott could tell she wasn’t at all opposed to the idea.

                Desperately, Scott began pounding his fists against the firm flesh of his mother’s expansive palm, heaving his body against it, even gnawing with his teeth at the hopelessly thick skin.  All he got in return was a short compression together of her hands, sandwiching Scott between Judy’s palms before she released him.

                “What was that?” asked Susan curiously.

                “Ohhh… nothing.  Reprimanding him again.  I think he heard what you said and… must not have loved the idea, I guess.”

                “Oh, I highly doubt he’d love it,” said Susan matter-of-factly.  “That’s the point.  Since when is a boy supposed to enjoy his punishment?  You’ve said it yourself, Judy, time and time again: he needs stricter guidelines, and he needs to learn his boundaries.  I think… forgive me, Judy, I don’t mean to infringe on your parenting, but… I do believe you’re entirely too soft on him.”

                “Oh, I know, I know, Susan,” agreed Judy.  “That’s why I thought maybe today might make a difference if I took it up a notch, but… as you can see…”

                There was quiet for a moment.  Scott was almost frantic.  Was this serious?

                “Give him to me,” offered Susan softly and forcefully.  “Give yourself a night off, Judy, and let me handle him.”

                No.  It couldn’t be.

                A whole night?

                “Oh, Susan… I don’t know.  I’ve never… done anything like that before.  It’s not that I don’t trust you with him, it’s just that with the legal guidelines… you know, they’re pretty strict about this kind of thing.  Obviously, I’M perfectly within my rights to shrink him and do whatever I see fit with him, but…”

                “I’ll bring him back tomorrow morning in perfect health with a new lease on life.  You’ll see,” insisted Susan.  “And on the legalities, well… I know this will sound crass, but who’s to know?  All you’re doing is entrusting your son to a family friend for a single evening.  What’s the harm?”

                “He is pretty helpless,” relented Susan with a sigh.  “Even… even at three inches, bigger than I normally make him, he’s still… well, not quite capable of defending himself, I suppose.  I know his limits.  I know how much he can take before I need to let up, that’s the only reason why I let the others do it today, because I was here to stop them in case…”

                “Relax, Judy.  Relax.  I’ll take… good… care… of your little baby boy.”

                The phrase made Scott’s hairs curl.  He could hardly believe what he was hearing.  Surely his mother wouldn’t do this to him.  Oh, sure, she’d humiliate him to within an inch of his life, but she still loved him and would never put him in harm’s way of any kind.

                Would she?

                Fuck.

                Slowly, Judy’s hand that was covering Scott’s body lifted off, letting the light back in.  Instantly, the boy curled up in a ball like a terrified housecat on his mother’s palm as he looked up at the larger-than-life monolithic face of Susan as it smiled hungrily down at him.

                The woman’s strawberry blonde hair, with only the earliest signs of graying, bounced merrily in the sunlight, hiding the pure, diabolical evil contained in the face of this woman.  Her plump lips, glossed a deep, auburn shade made her look almost like some Disney cartoon witch, and yet there was no soft-hearted play in her smile as her lips unfurled, revealing her teeth, glistening with sticky saliva, which hid a tongue that Scott was sarcastically certain was forked.  Her intense amber eyes narrowed as they trained themselves on Scott’s naked body, like search lights.  Scott’s skin tingled; he felt like his every weakness was being identified with a simple glance from this towering forty-four year old.

                “Of course you will, Susan.  I trust you completely,” answered Judy with pride, presenting her hand toward her friend as if handing over a pair of car keys.

                Scott’s heart sank into his stomach as he watched the claw-like hand of Susan descending toward his body, her blood-red nails almost looking sharp enough to lacerate his entire torso with a single swipe.

                Scott groaned in agony, his body sorer than he ever thought it could be, as he endured another of the endless poundings underneath Susan’s toes.  With each step, her digits would curl downward, wrapping themselves like fleshy snakes around his body, compressing him down against the well-worn leather insole.  From there, the woman would shift as much of her weight as she could onto the ball of her foot and toes, practically mashing Scott down into the material of the shoe interior itself.  At this point, Scott could truly feel the weight of this giant bitch bearing down on him like she was carrying Mt. Everest on her shapely shoulders.  As soon as this was done, of course, she would flick him around under her toes, pinning him handily against the pointed segment of the shoe, stuffing him into it as tightly as his body would allow without his bones breaking.  As this began, Susan’s big toe jamming him mercilessly into the corner of the shoe, he could feel his joints straining, his bones almost bending, his muscles bruising.  He would cry out, as if that would help matters at all, his entire body clenching up and trembling from the pain before Susan’s shoe would descend back toward the ground.

                And that was just one step.

                For once in his life, no matter how much Scott hated to admit it, he knew that he would have given literally anything to be in his mom’s shoe at this moment instead of Susan’s.  The things he had heard his mother say before she so horribly just handed him off for an evening of playtime under Susan’s feet were ringing truer than he could ever have wanted.  It was true, his mother was pretty hard on him, squeezing, crushing, mashing, flicking him with her feet to no end until he was almost sure he couldn’t take anymore.  And then, it would end, just like that, just when Scott was at the end of his rope.  His mother was harsh and unreasonable; he knew that.  However, she still loved him, and was careful not to permanently harm him.  Despite his complaining and despite how truly gut-wrenchingly, spine-tinglingly horrible it was to wrestle his mother’s sweaty toes, locked in the smelly confines of her high heels, Scott knew that he never came away from those events with much more than some light bruising that went away in a couple of days.

                This situation was an entirely different beast, and indeed, an entirely different foot in an entirely different shoe.  Within minutes after she began walking down the sidewalk of the Stevens’ household toward her car parked in the street, Susan set to work on her tiny charge and Scott could feel himself passing that pain threshold.  By the time they were in her car and Susan was vigorously pumping the gas pedal with Scott wedged firmly under her toes, taking the brunt of each pump, he knew the day’s nightmare was only just beginning.  Her powerful toes showed no mercy or regard for Scott’s considerably lesser chance of fighting back against them, and beat him brutally without Susan so much as giving it a second thought.  Multiple times, Scott considering trying to scream out for some relief from the onslaught, but he knew that Susan not only wouldn’t hear him, but probably wouldn’t even give a damn.  In fact, knowing her, Scott had a feeling she would just increase the pressure tenfold just for such an outburst.  He quickly put this idea to rest, doing his best to endure the pain: the cycle of Susan’s toes wrapping themselves around him, wedging his face deeply into the smelly crevice of her digits before flattening him down face-first against the insole and then flicking him directly into the pointed pocket of the heel’s toe section.

                By the time Susan arrived at her apartment and was stalking confidently along the sidewalk, Scott knew he was well past the end of his rope.  With each ruthless pounding of the middle aged woman’s foot, clenching and wriggling against the slick, leather interior of her pump, Scott felt his body rattling with pain, his heart railing against his ribcage, his brain yelling for a break.  Just as loudly as he heard Susan’s titanic heel spikes clacking against the concrete ground, he could hear his own pulse pounding rapidly in his ears.

                Scott realized he must have been close to the cusp of passing out when he regained full consciousness, and thusly full awareness once again of all the pain he was in, when, at long last, he felt the dreadful woman’s massive toes sliding with one final tap across his ravaged body and out of the heel.  He didn’t have much time to himself, either, before he found the shoe doing a complete 180 degree flip.  He gasped, grabbing weakly at the leather, but there was no adequate foothold to stop himself tumbling toward the mouth of the shoe, and besides, his muscles were so spent he wouldn’t have been able to make use of one anyway.  Scott screamed in terror as he hurtled out the opening into the cold world before plopping easily into Susan’s waiting palm, which quickly curled around him, her fingers squeezing and restricting him without mercy.

                Grunting meekly, Scott dared himself to look back up at those cruel hazel eyes of the red-headed tormentor, and once again felt the familiar fear creeping back into his bones.  Her eyes were even hungrier than before.  Scheming, tempting, threatening all at once in the swirling haze of golden shades surrounding her pupils.  Her firm fingers tightened even harder around Scott’s body, causing him to cry out loudly in pain.

                Susan snickered pitifully.

                “I’m not quite like your mother, am I, little boy?” cackled the woman down at Scott, not at all bothering to conceal her glee with the situation.  The dim light of her apartment, combined with the quickly fading light of the sun outside, was allowing ominous shadows to be cast across Susan’s upper lip and eyes as she spoke calmly and condescendingly to the tiny teen clenched in her fist.  She gave him another, slightly lighter squeeze, meriting another meek mumble of pain from Scott’s bruised body.

                “Mrs. Cartwright…” gasped Scott quietly in the utter silence that followed.

                “Oh, please, honey,” drawled Susan, rolling her eyes and reaching down toward a countertop for a wine glass.  “Call me Susan.  Really, I mean, on how much closer terms would we need to be before that was appropriate?  I’ve seen you naked for the last couple hours, I watched one of my friends give you a goddamn footjob, and we’ve just spent the last twenty minutes with you stuck between a couple of my toes.  Honestly, I can’t imagine us being on much more casual terms, short of me losing you in my panty drawer,” giggled the woman, taking a leisurely sip from a tall glass of red wine.

                Scott watched fearfully, still clenched in Susan’s fist, as the starch, dark red liquid ran slowly down the sloped crystal siding of the glass, the molasses-like residue leaving a sticky pool in its wake.  He gazed onward as Susan’s lips parted, her deeply shaded mouth pressing its soft flesh against the glass as a crimson river of fine alcohol flowed easily over her smooth, wrinkled lips.  A tiny droplet began stickily dribbling down her lower lip, but her monstrous, rippled tongue quickly lapped it up out from the hot cavern of her mouth.  As she pulled away, a tiny lump rolling down the skin of her throat on the inside of her esophagus, Susan left a deep, dark half imprint of her prominent lipstick shade on the rim of the glass as she slowly set it back down on the table, sighing with satisfaction at the taste of the precious liquid.

                “See that?  That’s ALCOHOL.  It’s for adults, NOT little boys with dreams of being the cool kid at school,” laughed Susan as if reciting the words from an after-school anti-drug program.  “When you drink it, people can get hurt.  And then people have to make hard decisions about what will happen next: to the people that hurt, and the people that got hurt.  Does that make sense to you, Scott?”

                Clearly, Susan was condescending dramatically to Scott, and he didn’t like it at all, but he knew he was in absolutely no place to show disdain.  He nodded obediently.

                “Answer me, little boy,” ordered Susan, squeezing tighter.  Scott heard a popping in his back, and prayed it wasn’t a bone.  If it was, he was all but screwed.

                “Yes!  Yes, yes, it does… Susan,” he squeaked uncomfortably, huffing and puffing in between words, gasping for air as the crushing power of Susan’s fingers constricted his volatile lungs.

                Susan only frowned, shaking her head, her smooth strawberry locks bouncing around the sides of her face again.  Slowly, Scott felt her hand lowering as wind rushed past his face from below, the ground getting closer and closer as Susan’s arm plunged downward.  He shut his eyes tightly, ignoring their watering, and opened them just in time to find Susan’s fingers finally relinquishing their grip on his battered body.  Soon, her grip was too wide to actually hang onto the teen, and she had shaped her fist into an “O” shape.  Scott desperately clung onto the folds of the woman’s finger flesh, but his muscles were so worn out, his body in so much pain, exerting in any form was simple torture, and with a gasp of terror, Scott plummeted through the tunnel of skin made up of Susan’s hand.  He plopped uncomfortably with a sickening bounce on a purple, fluffy ground.

                Looking around and pulling himself to his feet, Scott looked up and found himself looking into a deep, fabric tunnel of darkness, shrouded by the long, fuzzy tendrils of the violet cotton.  At this moment, Scott realized where he was, and just as he turned around, ready to dash with every ounce of energy he had left to escape Susan’s night slipper, he found himself face-to-face with a deep green ivory toenail.

                For an instant, Scott saw his horrified reflection in the distorted mirror of Susan’s big toenail, and even in the unclear image, the boy could see his body was absolutely riddled with dark bruises.  It made him cringe just to see, but this was the least of his problems, as, within his next inhalation of breath, the toe was flicking forward, sending the poor boy sprawling into the dark section of Susan’s slipper, dizzy and in so much pain he wanted to vomit.  Satisfied with her footwork, Susan slid her naked foot confidently into the slipper, this time burying the hapless Scott under her warm sole.

                Scott screamed bloody murder into the immense wall of moldable flesh covering him so easily, darkness and heat instantly cloaking him as Susan settled comfortably into her casual night slippers.

                “Oh, boys… how much easier my life would be if I could fit all of them in there with him,” whispered Susan with a disappointed sigh to herself, reaching for her wine glass stem for another sip.  “That tickles, honey.  It really does.  I appreciate the effort,” said Susan loudly, stifling a giggle.  “Now give your Aunt Susan a big kissy-kissy!”

                Despite his mad, useless struggling against the mountainous pad of sole skin engulfing him, Scott could hear the woman’s orders.  He screamed again, belting out a stream of curse words that would make the most fearsome of biker gangs blush in shame.

                “I could be wrong, but that sure doesn’t feel like KISSING!” drawled Susan with emphasis, arching her sole and bending the soft slipper insole, essentially forcing the boy housed in her shoe to be clasped even more fully against her skin.  After a few more motions of this, pumping and arching her foot for the pure detriment of the tiny teen trapped underneath, Susan felt the unmistakable pecks of tiny, kissing lips.

                “That’s the SPIRIT!” laughed Susan triumphantly, crossing a leg as she took a seat and gulped down a swallow of red wine.

                “MY MOM DIDN’T GIVE YOU PERMISSION TO DO THIS!” screamed Scott at the top of his lungs.  By straining her ears, Susan was able to just make out the words of the protesting boy under her care, nodding her head and smiling knowingly.  “IT’S AGAINST THE LAW!  YOU CAN’T DO THIS TO ME, YOU BITCH!”

                “Is that any way to talk to your Aunt Susan?  Now, c’mon.  It’s been a whole ten seconds.  Kiss it again or I’ll make you do the other one too.”

                “I HAVE RIGHTS, GODDAMN IT!  I’M A HUMAN BEING!  YOU’RE NOT GOING TO GET AWAY WITH THIS, DO YOU HEAR ME?”

                “Of course I hear you, honey,” smiled Susan.  “And, frankly, I’m getting a little sick of it.  Hush up.”  Lifting her leg lithely, Susan planted her foot hard against the plaster wall with a loud slam.  She could feel Scott’s body plowing headlong into her sole so hard, she knew it must’ve felt like he had just been in a car crash.  His screaming had stopped for the time being, despite the fact that Susan could still feel his weak movements as he struggled to not slip deeper into Susan’s slipper, his tiny face still planting obedient kisses onto her soft skin. “Now that’s more like it, Scott.  Keep it up.”

                Finally relaxing, Susan propped both of her feet up on top of the old-fashioned heater that was connected to the wall, leaning back in her creaking chair and taking another long sip on her wine glass.  After a few minutes of having her feet, already clothed in the heavy fur of the slippers, hovering over the heater, she could feel the effects taking place.  A warm, sticky frosting of sweat glazing itself over her entire foot, finding its way into the crevices of her toes and along the deep wrinkles of her sole.

                “Ohhhhhh… yes,” breathed Susan, already feeling her foot sweat practically gluing the unfortunate teen boy onto her mature sole.  She took another gulp of the wine, smiling emphatically at no one in particular, as she simply basked in the dim lighting of the empty apartment, focusing on the glorious feeling of the eighteen-year-old’s tiny, pathetic kisses.  “This is why I should’ve had children.”