“Why’d you ask, Scotty?” Maggie questioned suddenly, snagging her brother’s attention again as she propped her bare foot more firmly against his trembling body like a makeshift stool. As if her toes were insisting on a quicker response with their incessant nuzzling against his shirt. “About my school?”

            “Ermm…” he mumbled clumsily. Abruptly he remembered the original reasoning was to create a distraction from his mounting animal instincts. He peered down at his crotch with due discretion, as it was now lodged into the center of Maggie’s deep sole arch. It was a much more ideal location than having the ball of her foot constantly mashing his junk through the excruciatingly thin folds of his shrunken jeans.

            “What?” she repeated, this time with a hint of her usual suspicion. She’d opened her eyes again, resting her head idly against her hands as she studied him gently wrestling with her foot at the edge of the bed.

            “I just… you know…” he gulped. “I wanted to know how things were going.”

            By now, her toes had worked their way completely under his shirt, cooling his abdomen with the sheer surface area of her stubby digits. They seemed to be working on dragging him nearer to the fleshy underside, as if his entire twelve-inch body was a hand-puppet being worn by her foot. And it was almost too much.

            Already he could feel the cloth of his pants straining right between his legs as it was involuntarily prodded at the wrinkly instep of his sister’s massive bare foot.

            “Did Mom want you to ask me?”

            “Nope, she didn’t say anything.”

            “You’ve never asked about my school stuff before, though.”

            “I know. But there’s a first time for everything, though, right?”

            Maggie raised an eyebrow. Her toes crept higher on his torso, crawling their way up until half of her foot was shoved up his shirt, stretching the fabric with the bulk of her appendage.

            “You’re really warm,” she commented casually.

            “Yeah, no kidding,” he said, deciding to chance a more amicable comeback. “You’re… kinda cold. No offense.”

            “Mom turned the AC way up again,” Maggie said. She cracked a relieving smile. “I hate it when she does that.”

            “Y-Yeah, me too,” Scott chuckled, genuinely managing a smirk back, even as his skin was pricking with nervous goosebumps at the increased contact and pressure. Whether or not he wanted to admit it, and indeed he would’ve rather admitted almost anything else, he was still hot and worn after his forced dalliance with Judy’s friends; Maggie’s foot, meanwhile, was pleasantly cool, like a padded ice pack that could cover most of his body as it writhed and stroked itself along his arms.

            And unlike him, she seemed intent on at least somewhat enjoying the togetherness.

            His member was almost at full mast inside his pants, and it was taking most of his muscular control to avoid letting it be kneaded along the base of his most recent massage client.

            “Well…” Maggie murmured. She rolled her toes a final time against Scott’s chest, pointing them so high that he could see her pink digits peeping through the stretched neck of his shirt. The straining seams in his outfit were audible to both of them now. “Thanks for… you know, asking about it. I don’t know if you even mean it all the way, but-”

            “I do,” he promised through grinding molars. “I do, honest to God, mean it.”

            “I believe you, little boy,” she said, her blue irises unblinking as she stared him down. A giggle trailed on the end of her sentence as she gave her foot a final thrust up Scott’s shirt, until her big toe had sprouted out the top, allowing it to lay against her brother’s neck.

            The young man held his breath, nearly telescoping his spine in attempt to lean far enough back that his fully tented pants didn’t rake along Maggie’s heel. He could feel the gridded bulge of her digit nudging up against his chin, forcing him to look just a little higher up as she leaned forward again in her bed.

            “That was a nice job you just did. I still like when your hands are super-tiny, too, but you did good like this,” she said. “Give me a little good-bye kiss?”

            “Sure,” he huffed, grateful for any opportunity to end this increasingly awkward exchange. Without further hesitation, he planted his lips against the fleshy oval of his little sister’s enormous big toe. Fossilized flavors of fleshy grit and tangerine shampoo seeped into his jaws. He ended the kiss with a loud enough pop and just enough leftover moisture that Maggie would be unquestionably satisfied with this singular effort, rather than requesting a do-over.

            “Thaaanks, Scott!” the soccer star sang gleefully. At last, her foot dragged steadily back down the length of her brother’s miniature shirt, taking special care to dab her toes individually on his abs one last time before she relieved him of her cold but nonetheless sickeningly alluring touch.

            “No problem,” he shuddered. As soon as he was free of the giant foot shoved up his shirt, Scott slid smoothly down onto his haunches, allowing him to conceal his embarrassment. With careful timing, he was able to use her wriggling toes as cover for the instant it took to sit before Maggie crossed her legs together at the head of the bed.

            “Sorry if I kinda messed up your little shirt,” she admitted sheepishly. Once again, it took a moment to occur to Scott that his sibling wasn’t making fun of his newest minor predicament.

            “Oh! Yeah, well… you know how thin these are,” he said. He gathered the fabric in his fists, noting how the shirt would’ve now easily fit someone with close to double his measurements. Or, more specifically, fit someone with a gigantic naked foot pressed up against said someone’s torso in a tantalizing, secretly repulsive embrace.

            “Ha. I did ruin it, didn’t I?” she sniggered, cupping a hand over her lips as she observed him pitifully tugging at the billowing shirt.

            “I got a bunch. Don’t worry about it,” Scott shrugged. He rocked back and forth, clenching his muscles in an effort to divert blood away from its current inconvenient location.

            “That’s nice of you to say, Scotty,” she said. “Tell you what: if you’re ever… really warm again, like after Mom’s friends are done being old and weird with you, and you’re wearing this shirt again…”

            By the cracking smile on the girl’s lips, Scott could tell the idea was mostly a joke, but he could also sense she was just serious enough that an offer now officially existed to, if he desired, have his sister plant the weight of her bare foot down against his body and, effectively, share his clothes. Thankfully, it had just been his shirt and nothing lower.

            “I’ll keep it in mind,” he said, forcing a harder laugh.

            “I’ve got some stuff to do downstairs. You wanna come?” Maggie’s hands were already outstretched toward her human doll, fingers primed to pluck him up by the arms.

            “No!” he choked, barely avoiding making it sound like a panicked order. He shuffled his weight, willing his member to flatten again. “Um, I mean… nah, I’m okay.”
            “Oh,” she said, wrinkling her nose slightly at his initially strange reaction, but seemed to shrug it off as she slumped off of the bed. “Well, it’s okay with me if you wanna take a little nap in my bed if you’re all tired from Mom’s friends. Just don’t sleep through your big-boy date with Ella.”

            “I’ll try not to,” he said with a grin. More than likely, his sister genuinely thought it was a possibility for him to have forgotten that he was allowed to leave the house for an entire two hours tonight, under his girlfriend’s solitary supervision. He’d only been dreaming of this moment for a solid thirteen months.

            “But if you do…” she chuckled as she made her way toward the door. “…I think I know a way to wake you up. A really cold way.”

            Scott watched his sister wave goodbye as she slunk out of the room, leaving him in a heap of woolen blankets with equal measures of satisfaction in a mostly successful interaction with Maggie, and simultaneously enough accidental sexual frustration to give any normal-sized human a migraine. Furious at his body, the young man thwacked at his shrinking pants tent with the back of his hand and rolled aggressively onto his side.

            Recollecting his scattered and at least mildly humiliated thoughts, he focused his attention to the prospect of being cradled in Ella’s elegant hands once again.

            Still, as he curled into the purple waves formed by Maggie’s bedspread, the young man didn’t quite allow himself the luxury of a nap. There were no chances being taken. And no matter if his relationship with his sister was at an all-time positive lately, he wouldn’t put it past her to simply sneak into the room, slide her enormous foot up his damaged shirt, and sink into a nap herself using him as her personal toe-warmer as the hours ticked on by.