Executive Decision by Jacksmith
Summary:

A college kid's infatuation with his flirty older neighbor and her beautiful feet will trap him unwittingly into a mutually beneficial arrangement.

Done as a commission.


Categories: Teenager (13-19), Mature (40-49), Entrapment, Feet, Gentle, Instant Size Change, Mouth Play Characters: None
Growth: None
Shrink: Doll (12 in. to 6 in.), Lilliputian (6 in. to 3 in.), Micro (1 in. to 1/2 in.)
Size Roles: F/m
Warnings: Following story may contain inappropriate material for certain audiences
Challenges: None
Series: Jacksmith Commission Stories
Chapters: 8 Completed: Yes Word count: 9865 Read: 110482 Published: September 24 2017 Updated: October 31 2017
Story Notes:

This story was done as a commission for TalkingHead.

If you're in the market for a little sultry cougar foot-action, look no further. This story is technically set in the same universe as my Time-Out series, though the connections are slight.

Interested in commissioning me for your own custom story? Read details here: https://thejacksmith.deviantart.com/journal/Story-Commissions-698491757

1. Chapter 1 by Jacksmith

2. Chapter 2 by Jacksmith

3. Chapter 3 by Jacksmith

4. Chapter 4 by Jacksmith

5. Chapter 5 by Jacksmith

6. Chapter 6 by Jacksmith

7. Chapter 7 by Jacksmith

8. Chapter 8 by Jacksmith

Chapter 1 by Jacksmith

Jason Burton always felt smaller when he returned to the familiar, confined walls of his childhood home. He’d only been away at college for a year now, having just returned this very afternoon with a trunk packed full of belongings. The year away was a serious confidence booster, and a necessary one at that, for the five-foot-five sandy-haired young man who, despite an athletic frame and self-assured vocal timbre, possessed somewhat of a baby face and the stature to go along with it.

            He wandered into the living room of his mother’s home and flopped into the comfy leather couch cushions. Returning here reminded him that, despite his bravado, he was still the same kid who had to prove on a daily basis he was bigger than his below-average height let on.

            It was nice to have some alone time before his mother returned from her errands. On his drive home, she’d texted to let him know a home-cooked meal was en route once she returned, and to simply make himself comfortable for the personal homecoming.

            Jason smiled to himself. He was looking forward to seeing his mother, and heck, even the inevitable string of chatty cathys from the never-ending parade of her book club, Bible study, activism team, and nature conservation collective who all would inevitably find their way into the house over the coming weeks and want a full spiel on his year at college.

            Of course, there was one of those frequent household callers in particular whom Jason was looking forward to seeing just that little bit extra, though he often wanted to deny the sensation of repressed curiosity and even hesitant desire.

            “Hello?” a lilting voice boomed from the back porch door. Jason was so deeply relaxed now into the couch cushions, back slouched and arms outspread, he barely registered the voice as recognizable in his memory banks.

            “Hey!” he said back, assuming it to be his mother.

            Jason listened closer now. In the quietude of the house, he could make out the sound of shoes being scraped softly along heels for removal followed by the clunk of them landing on the welcome mat. Next the padding of smooth skin along the tiled floor, and finally, a vague shadow looming over Jason’s head from the back of the couch. He looked up.

            “Well, hello, hello there, Jason,” said Heather Goodman: a neighbor from down the block, a high-powered executive businesswoman, his mother’s best friend, and the six-foot-six object of Jason’s gentle adolescent torments. In more ways than one, she was a giant.

            “Oh!” he sputtered, instantly correcting his posture on the couch out of instinct. Just as always, he was hopelessly dwarfed by her. “Mrs. Goodman!”

            He gazed upside-down toward the striking countenance of the woman above. Her glamorous chestnut hair hung in silky tresses down over her shoulders, framing her magnetic features. As usual, those piercing hazel-green eyes of hers met his with imperious need. Her smile curved broadly across her cheeks, punctuated by ageless laugh line creases. She was an absolutely hypnotizing creature.

            “Now, Jason, you know perfectly well that not only is it Ms. Goodman as of three years ago, but that you have no business calling me by that name anyway,” the woman explained with a wink. “It’s Heather, remember?”

            “R-Right, yes. Sorry about that.”

            “You apologize too much, hon, you know that?” the woman sighed with a pitying smirk. She rested her forearms on the back of the couch, her slender, elegant hands hanging above Jason’s head. Those long fingertips dipped into his hair and began to knead with utmost gentleness.

            “Maybe I do, yeah” he laughed. Goose bumps rippled at the sensation of her casual fingertips.

            Though he’d never probably be capable of explaining it fully, Jason was reduced to something of a puddle in Heather Goodman’s presence, almost without fail. Throughout his teenage years, he’d always compensated for his shorter height with humor and smooth talk, even charming some of the cutest girls in his grade. But all of that skill fell by the wayside when he was in the aura of Heather, this frankly drop-dead gorgeous neighbor who was entering middle age with a grace and cool that was an embarrassment to the very concept of human maturation.

            “It’s funny, I could’ve sworn your mother was supposed to be around now, but just as I came through the door, it occurred to me she told me she’d be out. Isn’t that funny of me, to forget a thing like that?” Heather inquired softly.

            “Maybe a little.”

            “Speaking of little, hon, I’m glad to have a “little” company while we wait on her to come back. You don’t mind if I join you, do you?”
            “Hmm? Oh, no, no!” he said, a little more desperately than he hoped to sound. “Please, um… go ahead and sit anywhere, if you…”

            “Why thank you, Jason. That’s so sweet of you,” she commented before the full sentence was out. Her palms gave Jason’s scalp a final stroke, and then she was circling around the couch.

            Now Jason was treated to the full view. The vision that tended to make his throat go dry and his vocal cords tick out of sync.

            Heather Goodman was something of a knock-out. There wasn’t a much better word for it. At six and a half feet tall, she was a voluptuous hourglass of a woman. Though Jason was often used to seeing her in tasteful pantsuits or business skirts, today, she was adorned in a simple crimson-red top which complemented her ample bust, and skinny jeans which lovingly hugged the shelf of her derriere and bulge of her full-bodied thighs.

            For a few instants, the woman simply stood above the couch, lording over this young man whom she beat out in height by a full foot-and-an-inch. Her broad hands, with fingernails painted a delicate chocolate-violet hue, sculpted their way up from her hips to her stomach, with such casualness, Jason couldn’t be sure she was doing it on purpose. Yet, as he watched her eyes hungrily contacting his, it was hard not to wonder what was going through her head.

            Heather sunk down into the couch, conveniently in the very center, which put her inches away from Jason to her left. The college freshman was treated to a new sight he hadn’t experienced in over a year but he now realized was sorely missed, at least on a subconscious level.

            The woman, with a last twirl of her lustrous brown locks, leaned fully back in the couch and propped her left leg up upon the glass coffee table beyond. Her bare, beautiful, size-eleven-and-a-half foot. Almost porcelain in its immaculate geometry, it was laid to stand on its heel, facing out toward the room. Internally, Jason felt a twinge of disappointment to be distanced from it.

            Next, then, in answer, Heather’s other foot rose from the opposite side and crossed her left leg, using it to prop her right foot over her knee, less than twelve inches away from Jason: her smooth, creamy sole aimed directly at him.

            Every time Jason caught a glimpse of Heather’s feet in the past, he had to remind himself by context of their sheer size, because nothing about them suggested her feminine appendages were nearly as humongous as they were. No long hammer toes, no desiccate heels, no bony joints; save for the fact that Heather’s foot was about eleven inches long from end to end, it may have belonged to any ordinary woman, which Heather most certainly was not.

            Jason swallowed and cast a glance out the side toward the woman’s proudly displayed right foot. It wore its curves and slopes proudly, with a plush instep and supple, deeply wrinkled sole. Every few seconds, her toes idly flexed, scrunching down from the ball of her foot to the heel and altering the hue from pale to peachy.

            “Something the matter, Jason?” Heather questioned at length. She rested her head in her palm as she stared sideways at the neighbor boy huddled into his half of the couch.

            “Hmm? No… no, Ms. G… I mean, Heather.”

            “There you go, you’re getting it now,” she murmured. “Now, Jason, no more beating around the bush. I’m sure you’re going to get sick of telling everyone about your first year off in the big wide world, so I’d love to hear the first account, before you’re tired of it.”

            “Oh. Uh, sure, yeah,” he said. “Where should I start?”

            “Anywhere you like,” Heather sighed contentedly. The toes of her right foot flared out, her largest digit pointed to the ceiling. Her sole flushed rose.

            “Well, uh, classes were pretty good! I feel like I learned a lot, and…”

            “Uh-huh, I’m sure that was really the first thing that came to your mind, hon. Believe me, I know what college is like. God knows I went for enough years, getting those extra degrees,” Heather laughed, gently interrupting. “C’mon now. You can tell me. What was it actually like?”

            Her body was shifting on the couch now toward the opposite end, putting greater distance between herself and Jason. Still, her heel remained anchored on the coffee table, the flesh of her heel squished against the transparent surface. Meanwhile, her opposite displayed sole continued its casual dance, flicking toes and rippling sole.

            Jason was having trouble keeping his eyes off of her peds now. It was like they had their own gravitational pull. He forced himself to lock eyes again with Heather, who was smirking cheekily now.

            “It was, uh, pretty great,” he said. “I met a lot of new people, made some new friends-”

            “What kind of friends?”

            “Huh? You mean… like, girlfr-”

            “Only teasing you, Jason. You know I like to tease,” Heather giggled. This much was true.

            “Right. Ha, ha, yeah… well, got invited to some parties, rushed a fraternity or two, joined some clubs…” he rambled, realizing how fast he was passing over the events. He couldn’t help it. By now, the amazonian neighbor was stretched across almost the entirety of the couch, her body reclined in a queenly glory with her curve-hugging jeans and top. Focus was at a premium.

            “You’re so tense, Jason. That’s what it’s sounding like to me. Like you need to let loose a little, and stop being so nervous all the time,” Heather explained coyly. “It’s as if you don’t know how to talk to me, when we’ve known each other for so many years now.”

            At last, she straightened herself out on the lengthy leather sofa. Her prominent bare foot hovered over from the coffee table to the cushions, and before Jason knew it, each of the woman’s firm heels was pressed up against his leg.

 

End Notes:

More to come. Please comment!

Chapter 2 by Jacksmith

“You just have to relax,” Heather Goodman repeated. “That’s all, Jason.”

            “I… probably do, yeah,” he agreed, unable to keep from staring at the meaty toes and thick-slabbed soles which lingered a matter of inches away from his arm. God, she was massive. A real leviathan of a woman. Sometimes he forgot, when he was sitting down and just about everything seemed more distant; right now, though, he had this lovely woman’s towering, naked soles flanked to his thigh.

            “Speaking of tension, Jason, I hope you wouldn’t mind terribly. But I noticed just on the walk over here, well… my feet are a little sore. I suspect from too much stalking in those too-high heels of mine around the office. They’re something of a killer, but damn it, I just can’t muster the strength to throw them out. What do you say? Could you help a girl out and give me a little foot rub? Just for a minute?”

            Jason froze. There’d been several occasions in the past where he came into fleeting contact with Heather’s monstrous, pretty feet, but never quite in such an intentional, personal context. Never when it was just the two of them, alone in a space, when he didn’t feel the same anxieties of whether someone might look strangely at him: the comparatively little man playing servant to the deserving feet of a powerful woman old enough to be his mother (despite her body shape and facial composition suggesting the contrary).

            “Of c-course! Yeah, sure,” Jason said, weighing each word to ensure he didn’t sound too eager. Frankly, he wasn’t sure it was such a great idea, sinking deeper down the rabbit hole of his own internal adequacies which this woman’s mere presence seemed to pull out. Nevertheless, his curiosity got the better of him; he wanted those feet in his hands.

            “Such a gentleman, as always. Thanks, hon,” Heather said warmly. Her legs angled lithely, allowing the twin heels to plop gingerly onto Jason’s thigh.

            Momentarily unsure of where to begin on such sizable peds, Jason’s open hands hung inches away from Heather’s soles. However, she seemed to note his hesitation, and stretched just a little further forward, clasping her warm sole flush to his palm. That was enough to start.

            In no time, the young man was kneading the deep slope of her sole and driving his thumb hard up the curve to the ball of her foot. With his other hand, he tweaked her juicy toes between his fingers and even took the liberty of tracing his digits into the fleshy crevices between hers.

            Jason couldn’t lie to himself. It was just a little exhilarating.

            “Oooh, that hits the spot, hon. Thank you so much,” Heather whispered with apparent satisfaction. She leaned her head back against the opposite poofed-leather arm of the couch, her eyelids drifting closed.

            The work was coming naturally to Jason now. He hadn’t ever really attempted a serious foot massage before, but the next moves just flowed. Cupping her heels into his pathetically smaller palms, he began low, then traced upward. Fingers digging at the velvety skin and testing the firm muscle beneath, Jason dragged his knuckles up the considerable, almost literal foot-long mass of the woman’s naked appendage. Once he’d focused for long enough on one foot, it seemed Heather’s opposite became jealous, because the bulk of it would squeeze itself between Jason’s busy hands and the other foot: insisting on immediate return to service of the neglected foot. Obligingly, Jason listened to these silent directions.

            The murmuring from Heather was slurring into low moans. Nothing uncouth, at least to Jason’s ears, but the woman was certainly not shy in letting him know he was successful in the request to relax her. By now, as he focused on one foot, the opposite one took to stroking itself along his forearm and hand, in yearning to be touched again. Her toes curled playfully at his smaller fingers, occasionally gripping in the soft crevices and then releasing him to continue his good work.

            It was obvious to Jason that Heather took care of every square inch of her body, including these feet. They were so soft and liquid-silky, almost like undisturbed ice cream; he had to imagine she was a pedicure recipient on a weekly basis at least. A fresh, fragrant aroma of mango and tangerine as well as some mysterious flower wafted from her flesh. This only intoxicated Jason further.

            Now, though, the foot massage had stretched lazily on for at least twenty minutes, with no mention from Heather to halt. If anything, her sleepy moans of comfort were encouragement to continue on. Being honest with himself, Jason was dreading the instant she asked him to stop.

            And only now, when he was so deeply entranced in this semi-sacred act of caressing these feet which somehow always found their way to be near him throughout his youth, Jason became aware of a tingling. An awakening between his legs and, inconveniently enough, just a couple inches away from where Heather’s meaty soles were patiently waiting for him to fondle her wrinkles again. His pants were beginning to tent.

            Jason exhaled upon Heather’s wriggling toes. Ever so subtly, he began to roll himself into a diagonal, such that the protrusion in his clothing was angled away from the surface of wrinkled foot flesh. Even then, part of him deep down was curious what it would feel like to lean in the opposite direction instead and brush his rod against a feminine foot nearly double as long.

            Again, the decision was made for him. Heather seemed to sense his gentle retreat and she compensated, following further across the couch such that each of her feet was now draped comfortably in the center of the young man’s lap. While one grateful, silky bare foot remained in Jason’s grasp, the second was now squashed ever-so-tenderly down upon his crotch: the bulge beneath his jeans was fitted snugly to the curve of Heather’s long sole.

            He bit his tongue, begging his biology to cool. But it did no such thing. The best Jason could do now was remain perfectly still, hoping that, given her reclined, half-napping position, Heather would just assume her right foot had come to rest upon his other leg instead of his erect shaft.

            “I noticed something about you, Jason,” Heather purred softly, without opening her eyes and lifting her chin up. By now, her left leg was angled such that the foot Jason was currently massaging was leaned into his chest, which allowed her toes to squirm and grip the cloth of his shirt while he rubbed her heel. The tangerine scent was ever-pungent now.

            “What’s that?”

            “I think you’ve grown.”

 

End Notes:

Please comment!

Chapter 3 by Jacksmith

Jason’s heart was in his throat. The jig was surely up. What was he supposed to do? Apologize? Beg forgiveness? Whip up some tears and just go all-in as the pathetic loser so maybe she’d never mention it to anyone?

            “O-Oh?” he stammered after she didn’t speak again.

            “Yes, you have,” she insisted. “I couldn’t say for sure, since you were sitting down when I came in, but I daresay you shot up at least an inch in the past year.”

            Exhaling again, Jason resumed a normal heartbeat, though still conscious of the woman’s right foot pinning his member against his thigh. As usual, jumping to conclusions nearly ruined him. He primped the fleshy bulbs of her lovely toes.

            “Huh. I, uh… I h-hadn’t noticed,” he mumbled. He truly hadn’t; at most, it was a quarter of an inch he’d grown. Nothing Heather should’ve been able to see.

            “Well, what do I know? It’s just been so long since I’ve seen you, Jason,” Heather said. “I suppose I’ll probably always just remember you as the little boy. I hope that’s not embarrassing for you.”

            “Not at all,” he shrugged. He only hoped to keep her talking, such that her attention wasn’t locked to what her feet had discovered he was hiding. His hands worked in a hypnotic, deeply familiar pattern now. His thumbs caressed her sole at the center, lovingly tracing ovals in her flesh.

            “Well, don’t get too much taller on me,” Heather warned playfully. She wagged a finger at him from the opposite end of the couch. “Just so long as you stay the same little Jason I’m so fond of.”

            The young man’s skin warmed. He felt a bead of perspiration on the nape of his neck from all this silent excitement. Much as it stung to hear those types of comparisons, he couldn’t help but wait for the next one.

            “And by the way, Jason…” Heather sighed, at last opening her eyes again and staring Jason full in the face. “You give… an excellent… foot massage.”

            His cheeks flushed red. “Ha, it was nothing. Any time,” he heard himself say, dangerously.

            “I just may take you up on that,” she winked, her full lips pursed.

            Jason involuntarily expelled a puff of audible air as the woman’s sole caressed in a single broad, confident stroke up against the bulge of denim between his legs. Those hazel-green irises of hers kept their hold.

            At that moment, the front door clacked unlocked. Just as casually as the activity was begun, Heather slid her ample feet out of her personal masseur's grasp, though she took her time to let his thumb caress the fall of her foot a final time. Jason’s mother Melanie entered the living room holding bags of groceries to find a perfectly innocent scene: Jason and Heather, seated at opposite ends of the couch, their hands folded in their laps.

            After the requisite greetings and joyous hugs from his mother, Jason remained on the couch while his parent and the gargantuan neighbor strolled back to the kitchen. He was only glad to have calmed down in the nethers before he had to stand up and embrace his mother. He couldn’t be certain, but as Heather followed after his parent, Jason was sure he felt a single long fingertip zig-zag through his hair again.

            “I tell you, Melanie, it does feel a bit like living in a mausoleum sometimes, filling up that house all on my own with an entire divorce-worth of furniture,” Heather explained to Jason’s mother from the other room.

            “So the time’s finally come? Spring clean?” Melanie asked.

            “Something like that. The movers are coming next week to take out the big items, but I still have some more delicate family pieces going into storage tomorrow that I’d prefer to handle myself, maybe with some help. But there’s such an awfully large amount.”

            “You’re saying you could use some help tomorrow?”
            “Yes. Know of anyone? It would pay, of course.”

            “I’m sure Jason would be up to earning a few bucks, with summer beginning, so he can afford to get out of these four walls and avoid hanging out with me,” Melanie joked, loud enough for her son to hear in the living room.

            “Well, that sounds perfect,” Heather said. “I think Jason is just the young man for the job.”

 

            That night, Jason lay restlessly in bed, unsure why he couldn’t fall asleep on his own mattress. Upon his hands, he realized he’d retained the sensory memory very well of massaging Heather’s twin giant feet. His fingers twitched with instinct. While he sat awake, Jason couldn’t help but let himself drift back to some of the quieter, unexpected moments of his youth which confused him then and only today were beginning to make more sense.

            Like that time when, as a child, he’d first met Heather Goodman in the summer, while she was still married. Their height gulf was even wider then, of course, and Jason’s memory of her was of a literal valkyrie seated on the couch at a neighborhood gathering in a spaghetti strap dress. Even then, as he lay on the floor with his Legos, his eyes were drawn to the sight of Heather’s smooth, polished peds resting in strappy sandals upon the carpet. His head bobbed every time one of her toes lifted and stretched inside the footwear. He cared less about Legos after that.

            The next historical event was buried somewhere in adolescence. Much of the neighborhood was banded together for some group gardening along the outskirts of the suburb. While Jason laid on his stomach in the soil, plucking weeds and planting bulbs, he found himself in noticeably frequent proximity with Heather who, of course, was pruning the trees and high shrubs which ran along the flower beds. For three entire hours, it seemed, Jason found his face not twelve inches away from Heather’s nude eleven-and-a-halfs, painted by a light caking of mud and flower petals. He remembered watching her sole occasionally arch up with aching slowness while she reached for the branches: something like the giant’s wife of Jack and the Beanstalk pruning the sky vine.

            Still another time, not more than a year before today, when Jason found himself in Heather’s presence for the last time before he left for college. With almost no hesitation, she leaned down, wrapped the entire wingspan of her arms around the boy’s ribs, and lifted him right off the ground. Jason flinched, surprised at Heather’s strength and steadiness as he barely felt a vibration in her poise. She squeezed him against her chest; he dangled almost a foot away from the ground, her hair sweeping by his cheeks. Before he was deposited back to earth, he received a smarting squeeze and even a kiss on the top of his head. He didn’t forget that sensation for a while.

            Jason finally found his way into sleep. Anxious as he was after the near-complete humiliation today on the couch, he couldn’t help but anticipate spending the day in Heather’s alluring company.

 

End Notes:

Sizes will change next chapter.

Please comment!

Chapter 4 by Jacksmith

“Just go ahead and set that down by the storage unit, the one with some space left still,” Heather instructed pleasantly. She stood with hands on her hips, her sky-blue workout outfit and black shorts making a particularly difficult sight to avoid gawking at.

            Obediently, Jason wheeled the final antique table out the back door of Heather’s house, which was easily twice the size of his own residence just down the road. The woman, with all her high-powered business connections and investments, was clearly queen of the neighborhood, if all these luxuries and sticks of expensive furniture were any indication. He wiped his brow and looked on the results of two hours of loading.

            “Good work, Jason. I knew you were the right one to hire,” Heather said. She appeared in the window from the kitchen with a pitcher of ice-cold lemonade in hand. “C’mon in and we’ll cool off.”

            Heart aflutter, Jason joined his gorgeous neighbor in her wide, tastefully designed kitchen at the island bar stools. He took a swig of the tall lemonade glass set out for him just as Heather took the adjoining seat; even this high off the ground, the woman’s sandaled feet came close to brushing along the floor. Jason diverted his gaze again.

            “No problem at all,” Jason said. Then he heard himself say: “I’d have done it for free, honestly.” What a sap he was.

            Regarding him with a raised eyebrow, Heather chuckled and traced an index finger down her cheek.

            “Well, I’m sure that won’t do. Everyone deserves equal pay for any good work they do,” Heather said. “Take that as a real-world business executive tip, Jason.”

            “I will. Thanks… um, Heather.”

            “You’re getting quicker at that all the time,” she beamed. She set her glass of lemonade down and casually reached for her purse where it rested on the countertop. “Now, before we talk payment for the good work you did today, I think we really ought to talk payment for the good work you did yesterday.”

            “P-Payment for… yesterday?”

            “Well, yes, of course, Jason,” she said as though it was the most natural thing in the world. “I don’t let services paid me go unrewarded. Just what kind of neighbor would that make me to you?”

            Jason was still too silently star-struck by the bizarre words, so she continued.

            “For example…” she sighed. “I enjoyed a marvelous foot rub from you. Well, doesn’t it make sense, then, that the favor is returned in kind?”

            Down below, she pried her sandals against the cold pole of the bar stool. One leathery boat of footwear came off, followed by the other. Both thumped to the floor, leaving her once-again freed peds to arch and flex down below. Then, with great tenderness, she lifted her leg until she could stroke her big toe along Jason’s shin.

            “I… I, uh…” he stammered, out of words.

            “Why don’t you just keep your focus on my feet for a minute. And hold still.”

            Hold still? This comment, at last, convinced Jason to look up. When he did, he was surprised to discover Heather was aiming a laser-pointer device directly at him. The end flashed deep emerald green in his pupils.

            He was even more surprised to discover the space around him was expanding upward. Though he couldn’t believe it at first, only one phenomenon could explain his visage as the young man watched his neighbor increase in size by almost six times: or, more accurately, as he was shrunken down to a pathetic twelve inches in height.

            “What?” he gawked, panicking. “Is… is that an actual…” He couldn’t get out the words. The shrunken teen thrashed, nearly stumbling over the side of the chair’s edge, but Heather’s leg was too quick. Her arched sole arose in a wall of smooth skin to block him from tripping over the side; he rolled directly into it, his face bouncing off her toes.

            “Oops, watch yourself, hon. I know it’s a little overwhelming the first time,” Heather said. She flared her slender toes against his tiny head. “I suppose I could’ve shrunken you on the couch so you’d have more room, but you’ve always been a young man up for new experiences. Don’t worry; you’ll adjust soon enough.”

            Jason was processing all the insane information at once, and it wasn’t going well. He righted himself, huddling into the fetal position aside from Heather’s resting foot, which was now just shy of being as long as his entire body. At least his clothes shrunk with him, or he guessed he’d have been very cold now.

            “Oh, Jason. Don’t give me that look. I told you this is pay day for you, right?” she said with a wink and a lullaby tone. “Not that I don’t get something out of it too, of course. In fact, I get quite a kick out of this. And after how many years I’ve caught you sneaking a peek at me, I suspect that experiencing it with you is going to make acquiring this jailbroken PMRD worth every last favor I called in. I made an executive decision for the two of us, to get things moving. Now come here, hon.”

            Jason was helpless as a baby in size and energy as Heather shifted her foot back to the floor and stood up. He never imagined he’d see her so large again in his lifetime; it reminded the boy of that first time he’d laid eyes on her, when he was so small at her sandaled feet: a true giantess. Gentle palms scooped around his shirt, and he was lifted up in a single bounce. Heather hugged the boy up to her bust as she marched gently through the kitchen and toward the living room.

            When Jason was released from the pressurized hug against the woman’s ample jugs, and placed onto a couch cushion, he was feeling a little more conscientious of this surprising reality, but not much.

            He’d always understood shrink rays to exist under strict regulations which only allowed them to function on bodies registered to the user, usually a family member or corrections officer. The event of a neighbor calmly pulling a shrink ray on him and putting him down to less than infant size was a total shock. It shouldn’t have been possible.

            “Now, the way I see it, Jason, we’ve got a whole afternoon here to resume where we left off,” she explained coyly. Heather’s white couch, plush and long enough to accommodate her six-foot-six frame, dwarfed the boy where he lay in the corner. “And I doubt we’ll have any interruptions preventing any acts of additional good work from me to you.”

 

End Notes:

Please comment!

Chapter 5 by Jacksmith

Jason’s heart was pounding like a gazelle. It was all he could do not to black out from sensory overload and the overwhelming scope of his statuesque neighbor towering above. Through the loud beat of his pulse, though, Jason was parsing together her words. He would’ve been lying to himself if he wasn’t intrigued.

            “You’re smaller now, true, but then again, you’ve always made do with just a little less height than most other boys your age, yes?” Heather questioned soothingly. She laid herself delicately upon the couch, careful not to shake him, each of her bare peds propped a few inches away from Jason. Her big toe almost came up to the height of his lips.

            “Y-Yes…” he muttered, adequately composed at last.

            “That’s a good boy,” she whispered adoringly. Her toes bent at the joints, popping softly, painting her soles with fresh wrinkles for him to watch. “You know I’d never do something to hurt you, Jason. You know that, right? I’d never hurt you, but I do intend to have some fun with you and your precious little body, whether or not you realize how much you want it too at the beginning.”

            Jason gulped. Could he do this? Go all in? Was there even a shadow of doubt left?

            “No need to be nervous,” Heather said. “Just c’mere. You know I like hugs. Give my itty bitty feet a nice hug.”

            Nodding, Jason skimmed past the absurdity of ever calling Heather’s feet “itty bitty” and approached. Like the previous day, he paused momentarily in front of her left foot, a last hesitation. So the woman made up the distance to the punctuation of a lilting giggle.

            Heather’s foot plastered itself heavily and warmly against Jason’s body. The ball of her foot caved to his chest, while her toes snuggled playfully up against his neck and around his shoulders. Smooth, milky skin caressed along his jawline. That dramatic lope of her sole arch flushed down on his waist and legs. Instinctively, Jason wrapped his arms around the foot for a hug.

            Pleased, Heather pressed her foot further forward. From his embrace, Jason had no hope of resisting gravity and the give of the woman’s plush skin. Her foot enveloped him and soon flattened the boy with utmost care into the cushion, now with the slightly alleviated weight of her gorgeous appendage draped length-wise down his body.

            There was no avoiding the prominent aroma. Only the ghostly wisp of the mango-tangerine soap lingered; the scent was leathery now, earthy and salty. The result of two hours physical labor. Yet upon Heather’s mature flesh and beautiful wrinkles, it was welcome and fitting. Jason couldn’t help but inhale happily.

            “Like I said, I believe in equal opposite payments,” Heather said. “You gave me a foot rub. It’s only fair my feet get the chance to rub up and down a little on you as well, Jason.”

            And rub up and down she did. Jason couldn’t fool himself any longer; this was a little like heaven. Their embrace was hardly a hug any longer. Heather’s sole flexed and arched with agonizingly gentle rhythm, continually grinding her heel into him while her toes brushed in marshmallowy sequence along his face. This was more akin to heavy petting than a hug. His pants tent was obvious now, and she was more than willing to acknowledge it with the weight of her heel.

            To Jason’s quiet disappointment, then, he realized her foot was rising away from him, only to be replaced with the opposite, neglected ped. Rather than stretch over his body, though, Heather’s bulging toes alit at the boy’s waistline. Sneakily, her digits snaked up his shirt while the other foot pinned his legs down, and with a simple flick, the young man was shirtless, with half his shrunken clothes dangling comically off Heather’s big toe.

            “That must be a little more comfortable,” Heather commented correctly. “I want you relaxed, after all.”

            Jason’s skin electrified with goose bumps as he savored the fresh sensation of Heather’s sole smeared and smushed to his entire upper torso. Her skin was so inviting and buttery, only slightly damp from her physical efforts earlier. The weight of it was getting hot, but Jason couldn’t have cared less if the woman stood on him all day like this. Idly, he dug his arms harder around her, hugging her foot closer. The woman obliged with a chuckle and mashed her appendage ever-more aggressively against Jason’s body.

            “I see someone’s coming around to my way of thinking, hmm?” she wheedled. “So maybe you’re ready for another activity?”

            Another? Jason was only just warmed up now, and despite the embarrassment and obvious fact that this encounter was going to warp his future relationship with his neighbor, the young man didn’t want it to end. Unable to help himself, he leaned up, wedged his face into the fleshy crevice between Heather’s big and second toes, and planted a single, gentle peck on her skin. Her toes writhed and closed in ticklish answer.

            “I’ll take that as a strong yes,” she cooed. Her illegal PMRD still rested on the coffee table nearby. Palm outstretched, she scooped it up, and gave Jason a last potent grind down into the cushion beneath her sole. By default, Jason released a soft moan.

            Barrel of the shrink ray aimed and primed, the green light flashed again and Jason was marooned beneath Heather’s increasingly massive foot. Where before he’d just barely edged out her appendage in height by an inch, he’d lost that advantage. Odds were, he was around six inches tall, which ensured his entire body was concealed beneath the pink, flushed ceiling of heavy, aromatic foot flesh.

            Jason couldn’t help but lick his lips. The sensation of the kiss stuck on his skin.

            Heather’s waggling, expectant fingers slid beneath her sole. Her digits curled tenderly around his sides and collected him into her palm as she drew him out from under the shadow of her foot, and brought him up to her face.

            Jason was dumbstruck. Yet again, she’d doubled in size. He felt as though he was staring at her beautiful, sunnily smiling face on a billboard; her dark, loosely curled locks were more radiant than ever, as were her hazel-green eyes. Really, was there a better face to display up on a high-rise advertisement?

            “Let me ask you a question, Jason, though I realize it may be difficult to separate from your current surroundings,” she murmured. With her free hand, she propped her hair up higher behind her head like a posing model. “Have you ever been shrunk before, and if not, have you thought about shrinking before?”

 

End Notes:

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Chapter 6 by Jacksmith

Jason trembled, even as he was soothed by the feeling of Heather’s palm skin cupped to his bare back. Her fingers drummed casually on his shoulder blades, while her thumb pinned him by the stomach to her comfortable hand. It occurred to him she was caressing his firm abdomen, testing the soft rivets of his pack.

            “I… I can’t say I have before,” he admitted. It was true, at least he was pretty sure. Who was to say what thoughts crossed his mind in wet dreams? God knew he’d be having some sexy nocturnal journeys going forward from today.

            “Never, hmm? It’s rare to find that today, I think, in a world where it’s become fairly commonplace,” Heather said. Her fingers cinched closed back around his body, while her spiraled thumbpad continued to massage his navel. “You’re sweet to be so forthcoming and open with me about this, Jason. I know it’s a lot to take in.”

            “S-Sure thing.” He honestly couldn’t say whether he was still stuttering now due to his rapid size change or simply the very presence of Heather Goodman.

            “Jason, you’re going to make me feel guilty if you keep sounding so anxious, and then neither of us is happy, which is the exact opposite of why I did this to you. Why I asked you here in the first place, really, in case you hadn’t deduced.”

            He nodded, swallowing down a lump in his throat. By this point, it wasn’t a tough logical connection to make.

            “So let’s work on that shaky comfort level of yours, shall we? And you can tell me if there’s anything you’d like to do, before I show you a couple ideas I had.”

            Jason, against the odds, was finally achieving some relaxation in Heather’s warm, capable hands. He opened his mouth but didn’t respond.

            “Maybe you’re a boob man, hmm?” she questioned suggestively. Her curled fingers dipped him downward toward her chest, which she reared forward, jostling her juicy breasts together within the confines of her sports bra and athletic top. His legs slid easily into the doughy valley of sun-speckled flesh between, and after her hands eased him in a little deeper, Jason’s six-inch body was ensconced on all sides by Heather’s subtly jiggling tits. Her heartbeat thumped through her skin.

            “What do you think, Jason?” she asked.

            “T-They’re… really something,” he mumbled. This earned an entertained burst of laughter from the woman which echoed in his tiny ear drums. Heather released her palm’s grip on his back and left Jason plugged into the crevice between her breasts, which she then cupped from either side and pushed together. Instantly Jason was firmly clamped between opposing hills of boob flesh. He steadied himself on the rounded terrain, half-shocked to find himself in this position so small and half-shocked simply to be given clearance to touch Heather’s chest at all.

            “They are something, aren’t they?” she agreed. “I’m sure you could find all sorts of clever things to do with them if I gave you some freer rein in there. But we’re not quite there in our friendship yet, Jason, you understand. You’ve got to earn the treats.”

            “Y-Yeah…” he said as her hand closed back around him and plucked him out.

            “Plus… call me crazy, but I don’t think I quite peg you as a boob man, even if you know a good pair when you see them,” she explained. “Now, this could be wild speculation, of course, but based on that cute little hard-on you had for me while you gave me that oh-so-lovely foot rub yesterday, I’d be willing to bet your interests lie a little… lower on the totem pole.”

            Jason couldn’t help but blush. Obviously she’d known all along, of course, but it was humbling to hear it spoken aloud. He surrendered again to her thumb caressing his pecs from side to side.

            Steadily, Heather’s palms cupped underneath his half-naked form as she drew her legs in. Despite her thick thighs and ample rump, some yoga practice was evident as Heather easily tucked both of her legs inward, centering her bare feet together in butterfly style.

            The young man peered over the bumpy platform of her curled fingers in time to see her toes all pressed together in a row, painted the same chocolate-lacquer as her fingernails and looking as exquisite as always. Then Heather’s palms gently opened up at the center, allowing Jason to plop comfortably down into the smooth oval crevice formed by the woman’s loosely clasped insteps and soles.

            Pinpricks ran up the length of Jason’s body at the realization of his location. He was literally sandwiched between Heather’s accommodating peds. Little reaction was required from Jason now as Heather granted him a sultry wink and set to work.

            With toes aligned and soles centered over Jason’s body, the woman’s bare feet settled into a pattern of grinding up and down the length of his body in reverse directions. To the shirtless, overwhelmed teen, it felt akin to a full-body massage on all sides by loping instep curve and supple sole wrinkles. He’d truly never experienced anything like it, though he was fairly sure he’d had at least one arousing half-nightmare about a similar scenario once in his life that he’d managed to blot out. Reality was so much better than the dream.

            “Go ahead and give them another of those little kisses of yours, Jason,” Heather encouraged. “I know you’d like to. Don’t let me stand in your way.”

            That was just about all the prodding he needed. The next time Jason’s body was hugged flush to a sole, he pressed his lips to it for a kiss. By Heather’s additional laughter, he gathered he was on the right track. Jason spread his arms wide as though preparing to make a snow angel, experiencing textures and velvety, muscular skin on all sides.

            At least ten minutes of intensive cuddling and continued petting took place before Jason even had the force of will to look back up at the looming form which constituted Heather’s curvy torso. To his surprise, the environment had altered yet again. Big as Heather was before, he’d more or less reprogrammed his brain to see her face in billboard scale; now, even that wasn’t adequate.

            She’d shrunk him again and he hadn’t even noticed.

 

End Notes:

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Chapter 7 by Jacksmith

            Indeed, the walls of sole flesh which surrounded Jason on all sides responded less to the whims of his shifting arms and legs. The aroma of her leather-scuffed skin was lukewarm and gently acrid in his throat. When he pressed his fist into a foot wrinkle, it only yielded like clay after he put some muscle behind it. Where before he’d simply been noticeably smaller than her feet, Jason was now suitably dwarfed.

            For the first time since this surreal affair began, Jason felt afraid again. At twelve inches, and even six inches, he still felt some degree of control over his body, however slight. Now, he wasn’t too confident. As Heather’s soles continued to weave and grind, gently caressing their roadmap of plush wrinkles along his torso, he could feel the sheer lack of agency in his movements. It was entirely up to her.

            “M-Ms. Goodman?” he uttered. He’d neglected the informality again in his fear.

            “Ready for a break now?” Heather questioned. Her palm, now apparently doubled in size since the last time it came for Jason, descended again. The boy was more conscious than ever as he was swallowed by the shadow of her hand, still walled in by soles, and collected between her thumb and forefinger. Kindly, she had the foresight to grip him by the hips rather than around the stomach.

            Jason was brought back before Heather’s beaming, beautiful countenance. At this size, it became possible to pick out a few more minute extensions of her laugh lines, but aside from that, Jason realized he was only more enraptured now than ever to be focused on by such a huge and magnanimous form as her.

            “Something the matter, hon?” she cooed. Her thumb and index finger massaged Jason’s sides as she kept him cradled above the slope of her pale palm. “I didn’t want to startle you again, so I thought maybe you could just ease into this smaller size while you were distracted down there. Feeling all right?”

            “Y-Y… Yes, yes, I am…” he said, only half-lying. He trembled in her grip.

            “Jason, we’ve already spent half an hour playing together. I can feel you shaking like a leaf. I don’t think anyone’s feelings will be hurt if you’re honest.”

            “I’m… kinda scared,” he admitted guiltily.

            “Ah, there it is. That’s natural, I’m sure. It can’t be easy, suddenly looking way up at a woman you’re used to only looking up at a slight bit,” she said. “I’m just pleased to see you’re having such a good time.”

            Jason frowned, peeping downward at his lower body, and sure enough, an erection was prodding through his shrunken pants. Heather’s opposite pinky finger brushed up along his leg, stopping just after a gentle nudge of his member through the jean fabric. She chuckled.

            “Yep, still functioning just fine, I see,” Heather commented. “We won’t bring Little Jason to the party just yet, though.”

            “Uh… ah, um…”

            “Tell me something, hon. How many women have you kissed?” Heather asked with a sudden professionalism.

            Momentarily thrown off, Jason was struggling just to keep up with the woman’s self-assured swerves in topic and mentality. All he knew was he was glad to have her taking the wheel.

            “Um, how many? I guess… two? No, three, because of that time in high school when-”

            “High school? Oh, Jason, you silly boy. I didn’t ask how many girls you’ve kissed, I asked how many women,” Heather interrupted gently. Her fingers came to bear around his body again, laying him down upon a bed of extended digits.

            “I… I guess… n-none, then, if that’s-”

            “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot, Jason. I just wondered if you’d like a little sample, purely for educational purposes, of course, of the difference between what you’re talking about…” Heather drawled. She licked her full, pillowy lips, painting a thin gloss of saliva along the rim. “…and what I’m talking about.”

            “I guess then I haven’t, um… haven’t k-kissed anyone quite like y-you before, Heather.”

            “Oh, hon…” the woman laughed a final time before she drew her cupped hands containing Jason’s three-inch body toward her mouth. “…and you never will again, either.”

            Jason felt his eyes bulge in much the manner of his nethers as his body collided with Heather’s blossoming, puckered lips. The suction was absolutely terrific. Her moist flesh plastered itself across his stomach and chest, having her way. A smooth upper lip caressed against his puny face in the midst of the sloppy gesture. At first, Heather was content laying a long, healthily-drawn smooch with tightly-clenched lips. However, after a minute or so of intermittent miniature pecks and puckered kisses, her glistening tongue emerged from between her lips.

            The three-inch young man went limp as a ragdoll in his neighbor’s cradling fingers. He was pinned down to the cushioned floor of her hand by the oppressive, addictive weight of her tongue. With every pulse of her red muscle into his chest, she flexed the mighty muscle beneath the ribbed taste buds, alternately turning it hard and soft. Next her luxurious lips were re-incorporated into the make-out with Jason’s torso, with her tongue making special guest appearances to pop back out and slurp up the length of his body, from his shins to his chin. In almost no time he was soaked from the neck-down in her saliva.

            All around, hanging strands of her dark hazel hair formed a canopy surrounding the educational lesson. Heather bowed her head, dipping her lips ever-lower into the cupped cradle of her hands, with the hapless three-inch passenger at the center, just about ready to pass out from arousal.

            When at last the kiss was coming to an end, like the finale of a fireworks display, Heather made sure to let him know this was it. Her tongue painted back up his pants and stomach, then instantly sealed in by her lips wrapping as far around his body as she could without simply sucking him into the moist void of her jaws. Jason felt the stinging, amazing pressure of a makeshift hickey forming on his chest as Heather practically drank his body back inside her hot, hungry mouth. She pulled away and wiped her mouth.

            “Oh, you poor, poor thing,” Heather giggled. She dabbed a delicate index finger at the boy’s aggressive pants tent. “I’ve got you here, almost to the point of bursting, and we still haven’t taken Little Jason out to play. So let me show you a trick I was practicing just last week when I heard you were coming home soon.”

 

End Notes:

One chapter left.

Please comment!

Chapter 8 by Jacksmith
Author's Notes:

Last chapter!

            Too groggy with lust and excitement to process how long Heather had apparently planned this odd event, Jason curled himself around the woman’s proffered thumb. It was all he could do to keep from humping and thrusting against the stiff form of it, but he gritted his teeth. No matter how far he’d gone with the neighbor now, he had to maintain some modicum of respect.

            “Just hold tight,” Heather instructed. She lowered her thumb back into her palm, and then over the heel of her hand, Jason could see the PMRD gripped in her fist. He closed his eyes just in time for the flash of emerald, then sunk down in a billowing puff of fabric.

            She’d shrunken him, one last time, but not his pants or underwear. The boy chanced one gawking glance around the space and was glad to have so much surrounding palm flesh as protection, because he was now smaller than ever. Jason was left completely naked in Heather’s palm at half an inch tall: less than the length of her fingernail.

            With precious attention, the pads of Heather’s thumb and index finger arrived at Jason’s sides again. At this scale, he could sincerely appreciate the artistry of her thumprint’s sworl as it hugged into his body. He was only vaguely aware of how easy it would be for her to pinch and snap him.

            Unlike the last reduction, though, Jason no longer felt fear. Arousal had long ago trumped self-preservation, and he wouldn’t have trusted anyone on earth more than Heather Goodman to pick him up in such vulnerable state.

            The boy again resisted the urge to thrust his hips, even as the broad curve of Heather’s thumb was pressed into his lower torso, gently pinning his hard-on against his waist. He moaned, meekly, silently begging for a release.

            “Another few seconds, hon. Just bear with me,” Heather promised in answer to the trinket-sized naked boy in her fingertips. Her warm breath wafted between the peachy vice of her citadel-like digits around his body. Down below, just in Jason’s limited view, Heather’s left foot neared.

            Gargantuan. Titanic. Jason just didn’t have the words to describe the all-consuming wall and mass of it. It was something like seeing a jetliner for the first time. A veritable atlas of blanched wrinkles and pink creases awaited below as Heather slid Jason toward the front of her fingers, facing him directly toward the oncoming bulwark of her lovely sole.

            With such grace Jason scarcely believed it was possible, his body was pressed into the woman’s bare, powerful heel, and then glided up the hill towards her toes. He was stroked and swabbed by the immaculate landscape of Heather’s sole, elegantly molding at every millimeter into the doughy floor. Every sexily tortuous second that passed, Jason was sure he’d explode.

            “Not yet, hon, not yet,” Heather commanded in the sweetest tone imaginable. “Here comes the trick I learned, just for you. Hold on a little longer.”

            The globe-like bulb of her meaty big toe arched, then parted ways with its secondary, slender neighbor. Tender flesh and easy dampness welcomed Jason’s twitching body as he penetrated the toe crevice. With the same care she’d used to scoop him up, Heather’s massive digits, each of which now outsized Jason, lovingly clamped around his hips.

            Then, with the woman’s polished fingertip poised at Jason’s back, her digits began to pump. In full force, her two toes jerked and flexed around the boy’s body, teasingly constricting him with such care that he was literally masturbated by a lightly greased toe crevice and raw talent.

            It was a miracle Jason had even made it this far. He shuddered and moaned passionately, bucking one last time into Heather’s soft toe flesh, and came. After roughly an hour of blue-balling prior, the experience left him drained and limp as wet paper. Helpfully, to the tune of her adoring, amused chuckles, Heather’s fingers fished into her elegant toe crevice to recollect her living toy.

            “I’d say that puts us just about even now, little guy,” she whispered tauntingly, her face and luscious hair framed by the light above in an appropriate halo. “Wouldn’t you say?”

 

            Thirty minutes later, Jason was returned to his full height of five-foot-five and cleaned up in the guest room shower upstairs. As he pulled his pants and shirt back on, which of course had to be regrown from their varying stages of abandonment during Heather’s games, he couldn’t help but come to a strange realization.

            His body, though shocked at first, had actually become startlingly calibrated to the experience of being shrunken under his gorgeous amazon of a neighbor’s whims. Moving about now in the stylish upstairs hall of Heather Goodman’s loaded residence, he almost had to remind himself how to carry his regained mass and stature. Where once he’d spend nights begging the biology gods to grant him just a few more inches in height, right now, he felt large. Almost too large.

            “I almost forgot,” Heather said with a wink as she met her hired mover down in the foyer at the base of the staircase. She handed him a wadded envelope containing cash. “This is for the portion of your work earlier carrying my furniture, and nothing more. This isn’t a brothel, after all, Jason.”

            “I didn’t think it was, Ms…. I mean, Heather.”

            “Don’t worry, sooner or later we’ll get that name straight in your head. I’ll just settle for you calling me Ms. instead of Mrs. for the time being. Much better.”

            “I… I, um… don’t really know… what to…”

            “No need to fret, hon. I won’t make this awkward for you. Let’s just say… I appreciated your company this afternoon, and leave it there for today,” Heather said seductively, looking down upon the sputtering young man. She reached out and gave his hair another playful ruffle which then lingered into a teasing massage. Her hand traced down the side of his face and came to rest on his cheek, which she cupped and tipped upward a few inches to ensure he stared straight up at her.

            “That… sounds fair to me,” Jason said. He gulped hard and tried to hew the sensation of her hand on his face into memory. “Thank you.”

            “It’s my pleasure, Jason,” Heather promised. Arm cuddled around his shoulders, she guided the young man to the front door and opened it. “Just keep in mind, for… future reference, when next the occasion arises. I always repay good work done for me, in whatever ways it deserves. Always.”

            To drive the point home, just when she knew he was looking, Heather arched her creamy, muscular sole down against the floor at a dizzying angle.

            As Jason marched down the winding path toward the street, his stunning, sky-high neighbor and secret confidante winked. Those hazel-green eyes nearly melted him into the sidewalk.

 

End Notes:

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