“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.