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Story Notes:

A story inspired and set in the same universe as "Make America Big Again" by Asterisk, Inwiththebooks although probably not a one to one correlation.

WARNING: This is a macrophilia fetish story, but does have the dressing of a political satire to help drive the narrative.  As such, there will be concepts that could be construed as political commentary.  If this concept or the idea of a narrative which might be in conflict with your own world view makes you uncomfortable, turn back.

WARNING: This story is a spawn of my fucked up twisted brain; the story is sadistic, gory, and brutal, as a warning, and if you question your constition, probably not for you.  If these concepts bother you, turn back. 

Ok, now that's out of the way...

In media res, our protaganist  - mark - is about to start his most dangerous part of this journey yet - getting through the airport.  He's about an inch tall.

As the name implies, foot heavy themes. 

I'm not sure how I feel about the fact that I wrote this.  But it was something that had been bouncing around my mind and i wanted to share it with the community.

Hopefully you like it.  It's my first attempt at writing and i know it's not been edited or proofread particularly well but i'm feeling kind of lazy and since this is a fetish website i hope you can excuse me.

If you like it or whatever, please leave a review!  I guess if it's popular enough i'd go back and work on the backstory and finishing the rest of it.  I kinda decided to end on a bit of a cliffhanger i suppose.

 

 


 

Author's Chapter Notes:

(Categories: Entrapment, Hands, Feet, Footwear, Gentle, Humiliation, Odor)


Hello reader,

I've decided I'm going to be doing commissions again, see my bio for contact info and additional details.

(Note if you see a later chapter saying I'm not for whatever reason, just know that was an old post.  If i ever decide to stop i will delete this notice from here and update my bio)

-Kenny

 


Even from deep inside the purse I could tell we were coming to a stop. The telltale sign of honking and women saying goodbye to their friends and families indicated that the next step of my journey was about to begin. I could only hope that the contact from the railroad was as reliable as they say – this was going to be by far the most difficult and dangerous part of this nightmare – airport security was already tight before the mandatory miniaturization process. Now, with the fact that tinies were actively trying to flee the country – the airport had introduced new restrictions and additional security for tinies trying to be smuggled or sneaking into the airport. I guess I should consider myself lucky that I was so well connected. I'd already heard enough horrifying stories of desperate men attempting to run or sneak into the airport – men attempting to run security were either promptly stomped or taken by TAA for their own sadistic purposes – others of men attempting to hitch a ride in baggage and being crushed by luggage before x-ray scanner finding their smashed remains inside of a suitcase – much to the annoyance of the woman who now is being interrogated for tiny smuggling she didn't volunteer for – on top of ruining her favorite dress.

 

“This is it” Tracy said unzipping the bag. Temporarily blinded by the stark change in brightness, I smelt the fresh air and looked up. Tracy's blue eyes gazed down from far above me. I could tell from her face that she was concerned – even though she was attempting to hide it. It just made me all the more nervous.

 

“Were going to meet Dianne in the parking lot. There aren't camera's there and she will smuggle you in. I know this isn't exactly going to be the first class flight you could hope for, but Dianne is a good person and has smuggled many tinies before – so you don't have anything to worry about.”

 

Dianne. We spoke about her earlier. She had a good reputation amongst the railroad – but she wasn't officially a part of it. A friend of the railroad for sure and one of the few people who could get Tinies safely out of the country – and according to the railroad, she had a 0% casualty rate – no tiny was ever seriously hurt in her smuggling.

 

She paused and then bit her lip. Her look was more than enough of indication that I wasn't going to like what I heard next. “Look, I don't want to lie to you – this isn't going to be easy on you. With the additional security and the risk she is taking herself, the precautions are for you as well as her. You just have to understand that this is nothing personal – we already know how awful this situation is for men. Just keep that in mind... so please, just do what she asks and understand that it's in your own interest. We just want you to make it through to New Zealand safely, and not, well... I don't think I need to describe it to you.”

 

I gulped. Tracy's hand appeared above me. Her fingers started to peak over the lips of the bag. Even though Tracy had been the best thing to happen to me since I became tiny, being so close to these monstrosities was still unnerving.

 

“It's OK.” I looked up at her, still wondering if I should be yelling and if I sounded like a squeaking mouse to her. “You've been more of an angel than I could have ever hoped for. I don't know how to thank you enough”

 

This caused her to blush. She quickly recomposed herself and said “It's the least I can do. What is happening to you people is awful and it sickens me the way power has corrupted women. I couldn't live with myself if I did nothing.” Her hand begin to slowly move deeper into the bag, her individual fingers looking like living columns. I could feel the heat from them even though they still appeared over 15 yards away from my perspective. I instinctively moved in the opposite direction – not only a futile gesture, but contrary to my own goal. It made me feel pathetic.

 

Tracy noticed this and asked “Are you OK with this? We can still back out now – you can live with me and we don't have to take this risk” she pulled her hand back a bit.

 

I only thought about it for a fraction of a second, then recomposed myself and stepped forward.

 

“No – it's as we said before, even if I stayed it would mean you are just harboring a fugitive and we'd have to spend our lives looking over our shoulders anyway. You've done enough for me – and if I have any chance of returning to normal, or at least being a free person again, it's worth the risk.”

 

She smiled. “That's the spirit – never give up hope.” She began to lower her hand again. This time I didn't step back, I stepped forward. It continued to lower in front of me, appearing like a platform being lowered in a factory. The back of her hand touched the bottom of the bag. Her palm opened, indicating to climb on board. I appreciated that Tracy didn't just grab me – I guess she understood that from our perspective we were already humiliated enough – being dehumanized by having no free will didn't help. It was just an illusion though. I was utterly at her mercy. Still, the gesture was appreciated.

 

I moved forward, when I reached the base of her hand, I once again was reminded of how small I was – even while standing, her hand reached up to the bottom of my torso. I had to put my hands on top her hand to hoist myself into her palm, like I was jumping over a fence. Once in her palm I immediately noticed the heat – it would be nice and cozy on a cold day – but on the hot summer day that it was I immediately began to sweat. Tracy was too – I could feel her palms were slightly slick, and I could smell the lavender hand lotion mixed in with it – it wasn't a bad smell. At this point, Tracy's smell was comforting. I'd been through enough at this point to trust her – and unlike Jen, whose smell instilled me with fear, Tracy gave me a feeling of warmth. Tracy began to close her palm slightly - not enough to envelope me, but enough to create a sort of cage to prevent myself from falling out. I could see through the gaps of her fingers. Then she began to lift, probably not too quickly for her, but for me it seemed like I went from 0 to 50 in less than a second.

 

Suddenly I'm outside of her bag, and I can see the rest of her car, and I can now get a full view of her body. She's wearing jeans and black and blue t shirt, nike sneakers. Her left hand reaches for the car door. And just as quickly as I'm out of the bag, I'm in the parking lot.

 

It's a double decker lot, and there are cars everywhere. We were on the bottom level and were illuminated only by the lights of the garage. Next to Tracy's car is a black SUV – blocking out Tracy from the rest of the parking lot in that direction. A good place to meet Dianne and avoid seeing other people. And that's when I heard the click clack of high heels. A sound that at this point instinctively made me nervous.

 

“Dianne?” Tracy said in hushed voice. Hopefully this was Dianne, as holding a tiny in the middle of the airport parking lot would probably raise suspicion. The click clack grew louder – I could tell she was about to emerge from behind the SUV.

 

And there she was. The woman who's hands literally would hold my fate. I hope she lived up to her reputation. Dianne was a flight attendant – dressed in that typical garb. The flight attendant jacket with the white undershirt and a tight skirt that ended above the knees, with black nylons guiding down to her even blacker pumps. Her skin color was slightly dark – the type of color that could pass off as somebody from South America – but she could just as easily be Italian. I wasn't going to ask though. Her eyes, however, were a striking green, juxtaposed with her skin, made for quite the site. She was lean – through her nylons I could see her well developed calf muscles, presumably from standing for long periods. Her face was plane, but pretty – she had a sharp look.

 

She walked closer. Tracy lowered her hand a bit – to the point below her breasts – and moved it closer to her chest. Looking up I could only see these mountains, obscuring her face. Dianne stood only a foot or two away, her own boobs obstructing the bottom of her face for only a second, before leaning forward and peering down at me. I felt absolutely helpless, like I was being judged by Gaia herself.

 

“This is Mark, correct” Dianne said.

 

Tracy nodded.

 

“I presume you briefed him, right?” Dianne said while continuing to stare at me. I shivered at this statement. I guess I wasn't given all the details yet.

 

Tracy leaned forward again, looking down at me and simultaneously biting her lip again. “Not the specifics – but I told him it wasn't going to be easy. His previous owner put him through hell though so it's not going to be anything particularly terrible by comparison”

 

That statement did not make me feel any better. The next 16 hours were not going to be fun.

 

Dianne frowned. Her green eyes conveyed more of a sadness than an annoyance. “I'm sorry Mark, but this is for your own good. This is the only way I'll be able to smuggle you safely – you have to understand.”

 

Anxiety began to creep up from the bottom of stomach. “Do you want me to explain the details to your now? This will be your last chance to back out – after this, there is no turning back.”

 

I didn't hesitate. “No, I'm sure about this – I'm OK.” To be honest, I wasn't sure about anything. I just knew that if I found out more details I probably would want to turn back.

 

Dianne held out her hand. Tracy moved hers away from her chest, positioned it above Dianne's and then slowly began to tilt it sideways – I slid down gently onto Dianne's. Her hands didn't have a particular smell – but were just as warm, and I could feel a slight splash of perspiration. Tracy looked at me.

 

“Well, this is it Mark. Good luck.” She sounded sad. I'm not sure that was because she missed me, or she feared for me, or she just recognized how fucked up the world had become. Maybe all three.

 

“Goodbye Tracy – thanks again for everything. Maybe you can visit me in New Zealand sometime”


She smiled at that statement. Her smile immediately lifted my spirits – in fact I almost felt giddy – like I was a kid who just got accepted on a date by his crush. “I'd like that – we can finally play that game of risk scrabble we talked about.”

 

I laughed. Dianne smiled as well. Then she looked at Tracy. “Well, I'm going back to my car. I have to get him prepped and it's not something to do in public.” Tracy nodded.

 

“Goodbye mark” she sounded sad.

 

“Don't worry Tracy – Mark will be the the 57th tiny I've smuggled and at this point it's pretty routine. As long as he cooperates we'll have nothing to worry about.”

 

57th? That's more than I expected. She'd been busy. Tracy turned away and went for her car door. As she went to open it she looked back at me – in a similar hand cage position with Dianne instead of hers. She waved. I waved back – not sure if she could see me, as Dianne turned away.

 

Everything began to move. Dianne didn't hesitate and shifted her hand towards the right pocket on her dress, and dropped me inside. The space was tight but not enough to be restrictive. Suddenly the wall of her pocket appeared to move towards me, shifting me backwards before receding back from the direction it came. From within the pocket I could hear the click clack over her walking. It only took a few steps to completely discombobulate me and I fell over from the jostling, falling awkwardly onto my back at the bottom of the pocket. It was almost the perfect fit for a tiny such as me, and with nothing to brace on I was stuck on back staring up at the crack of light that would only give me brief glimpses of Dianne's jacket, arm, and the roof of the garage above.

 

At this point I wanted to laugh. Just another situation in which I had no control – I couldn't even stand up. If Dianne accidentally hip checked a wall I'd be a red smear in her pocket – probably not enough of me would even be left to to completely stain a half of a napkin.

 

Then we stopped, and I saw Dianne lift her arm and the distinctive sound of a car door opening. She stepped inside and sat down, and I was hoisted into a vertical position and standing. From here I could move forward again. Dianne's fingers appeared around me, her black fingernails looking like ax heads to me. These digits could easily have sliced me, but she deftly grabbed be with her index and thumb and I was abruptly flying through the air, only to suddenly be placed on the floor of the vehicle.

 

The beige carpet on the car floor was fairly clean. I could only see a few bits of dust nearing the edges of the seats. Dianne's pumps flanked me either side, appearing about 20 yards away in both directions. looking bigger than double Decker buses. I could smell the leather from where I stood. She leaned forward and reached down with her hand – and grabbed the base of her right shoe and removed her nylon clad foot. She kicked the shoe away with her foot, further to the the right, and then lifted her foot onto the edge of her seat, and started to unravel her nylon.

 

I stood watching this somewhat dumbfounded. I finally understood what was about to happen – with all the additional security to prevent tiny smuggling this was probably the only way to get me through unnoticed. Still, Dianne's foot loomed high above me with the rest of her body, and to my right her left foot stood like the base of a building, slightly moving as she rolled down her nylon on her right leg.

 

Dianne looked at my while removing the rest of her nylon. “Do you need to use the bathroom – or are you thirsty? This is the last time you will get the opportunity till we are on the flight – and that won't be for another couple of hours”

 

I didn't need to use the bathroom but water sounded like a good idea. “I'll have some water please” I felt like a passenger on a plane with that line.

 

Dianne grabbed a water bottle and then poured some water into the cap before lowering it onto the floor with me. It was about 10 bottles of water to me in the cap. I drank quite a bit – all through the smell of leather and from the water's reflection I could see Dianne finally removing her nylons to show the bottom of her toes above. Her feet were athletic looking. She had a high arch and her toes were long. Her foot swiftly lowered to the floor and landed only 10 yards from me – so quickly and with such force that the vibrations caused a bit of fear. I could see her black nail polish now from my perspective and the hairs on the top of her toes.

 

“Are you ready to begin? We only have a few minutes now before I need to head into the airport.” Dianne said.

 

I nodded.

 

“Take off your clothes” She said, subconsciously lifting the sole of her foot. I could smell her foot and it mixed with a lingering smell of leather. Not an overwhelming smell by any means – but a smell nonetheless. Like a mix of coconut soap and leather. Dust fell off the bottom and even though she had only pitched her foot up slightly it was already well above me. Fear gripped me as the sole of her foot could easily move forward and squash me before I could react.

 

I was shocked by the order. Dianne could tell and showed the frown she had earlier. “Look, you're stuck with me now and you don't have to – but it's going to be hot.” She gestured towards her nylon. “With the additional security the only way to get you past the scanners is from within my nylon – they don't look down that low. We still have to remove our shoes as well so the only way to keep you on me is from within the nylon. After we are in the airport it will be too suspicious to remove you. I'm sorry but it's the only way. Once on the plane I'll be able to let you out but between my work and everything else it's not going to be easy. Don't worry, I'm light footed and you'll be OK.”

 

I looked at her foot, and then slowly traced it up her leg and to her torso, and then to her eyes. The green eyes gazed right back at me. I felt silly considering I was going to be naked under her foot in a few seconds, but still said - “Can you not look at me at least?”

 

Her eyes widened and said “Oh, sorry”

 

I removed my clothes, instinctively putting my hands over my crotch. Before I could even react it was suddenly dark and Dianne's hands surrounded me, gripping me so that my arms were stuck by my sides and my head stuck out of the top. I could feel my crotch rubbing against her palm. She looked at me.

 

“Look, this is just as awkward for me as it is you” I don't think she believed what she was saying but I understood the sentiment. Her eyes appeared to almost look through me. “Are you ready?” I don't think my response would have even mattered. I could see her moving her left hand with the nylon below me. This is going to be an one hell of a day.

 

“Does it matter?” I said.


Dianne laughed. This made me feel better. “I guess not” and then she let me go.

 

I fell for what felt like a minute but was only a second, and then suddenly I was hitting a giant net, before I tumbled over myself. The only thought I had was that I could have easily walked into this and didn't need to be dropped – but at this point I was getting used to being thrown about.

 

Eventually I reached the bottom. I could see Dianne using her hands to open the nylon and peered down at me from above. “I'm sorry about this but it's the only way. I'm going to position you so that you are on your back and that your head is between my big and second toe. That way your breathing won't be obstructed, and there is enough room under my toes so that you won't be crushed.”

 

Being told I wasn't going to be crushed under her toes did not improve my attitude. “Look – it's going to be rough, especially with my pumps on. It will be dark too, and you're not going to be able to move. In past experiences I've found the only real way I'll be able to notice you if you need something is...” She paused staring at me in the bottom of her nylon. I could only see her eyes as the rest was mostly obstructed form her nylon. “I'll just be honest – I'm a bit ticklish. The gap between my toes is especially sensitive, and since your arms will be pinned...”

 

Jesus – I realized what she meant. The only way I can get her attention is if I kiss or lick the gap between her toes. With the amount of humiliating foot shit I've had to deal with recently, at least this foot would be working on my behalf. I guess I could try to be positive about it.

 

“I understand.” cutting her off. She simply nodded and then lowered her nylon slightly in her hands. I could see her foot raising from outside the nylon far above me. And then from the entrance of the nylon the light was obstructed, her tan foot entering from above with her toes wiggling into the nylon cavern that was to be my prison for the next 16 hours.

 

It creeped forward at a maddeningly slow pace, getting larger and larger, squirming in an animal like way of a creature burrowing into a hole in the ground. I simply lay on my back, helpless, literally naked. When the foot was about 10 yards a way I could see the bottom of her toes and her foot – the space between easily large enough to fit two tines – however the gap between big and second toe was probably the only reasonable location to guarantee a place to breathe. From here I could see callouses on her big toe and the balls of her foot and as it approached and I could make out more dust. When it was about 5 yards away the toes moved quickly above me, and her foot lifted so it was again on the edge of her seat, with her hands suddenly adjusting the nylon.

 

“Please, get under my toes so that your head is between my first and second toe.” I couldn't see her face from below her foot and the nylons were not stretched to be visible yet anyway. I crawled forward on my stomach to position myself below her toes, and then rolled onto my back. She then pulled her nylons up tight and I was pulled right up into her big toe before I could react, with my mouth still open I got a bit of a taste of her foot. Salty, with very faint bit of cheese after taste, and some dirt to boot. Great start of my journey.

 

“Sorry” she said. I could see her hands from below the the nylon going to reposition me. It moved me down slightly so that I fit my head between the gap, her toes now enveloping me on all sides. I couldn't move, but I had enough space to feel like I wasn't being pressured either.

 

She lowered her foot to the floor. I could barely see her through the nylon now, my head had just enough space to swivel left and right – looking right I could place my face on the gap between her toes. There was a bit of grime here, just a few specs at this point, but I'm sure during the course of the trip it would accumulate. I hoped to god nothing happened to the point where I'd need to lick my way though that again – reminding me of the nightmare that was Jen.

 

“Are you good?” Dianne said. I don't even know why she asked. “Make sure you can get my attention – this is the last time we will talk for a few hours.”

 

She stared down at me through the nylon. Her toes gave the slightest squeeze, and I could feel her flesh touch my naked body. My crotch under third toe as well, and this stirred me ever so slightly. I felt absolutely humiliated.

 

I looked to my right, and gave her toe gap a little kiss. Dianne continued to stare at me. “I don't feel anything – are you sure you're in the right spot?”

 

“No, I'm in the right spot!” I yelled. I didn't want to lick her toe gap right now. I really just wanted to get out of this nightmare.

 

“Oh – well did you lick them?” She squeezed her toes again, forcing the air briefly from my lungs. I began to feel real terror. I don't know why, this is clearly not the worst situation I've been in. “Look, I know this is awful – but we need to make sure we can communicate. I really don't want to find out I accidentally suffocated you – or even worse, crushed you or drowned you in there”

 

Drowned me? Jesus Christ it made sense – the leather, the summer day, the work of a flight attendant. It was going to get hot, stuffy, sweaty. I guess even if I had clothes they'd all be ruined anyway. I don't know why but I suddenly was thinking of soldiers in world war 2, wondering if they were going to die on a sinking ship, their last moments as the boat goes down thinking this is not how I wanted to go. I wondered if I had it worse – I wondered if I could be in heaven speaking to my fellow dead telling them I died from drowning on a women's sweat in her shoe. I wondered if people would think it was funny or sad.

 

I turned my face to the right, and I licked the gap. It was a bit salty and a bit cheesy, but not bad. What have I become, I thought, licking the gap between a woman toes and think it's not that bad. Dianne didn't respond. So I turned my head back and really gave it a licking. Up and down, side to side, gathering up some of the grime that already accumulated. I coughed it out, and continued licking. Dianne's toes squeezed me in response.

 

“OK – I feel you. I think we are good to go. Good luck down there Mark”

 

Jesus. What was I? Suddenly her foot lifted up and I could smell leather – and then it was dark. The fresh air was gone and the heat from her foot quadrupled. I was in her pump. I couldn't move. I could feel her flesh, putting only a slight amount of pressure on me, but completely preventing any movement. Her smell permeated everything. My eyes began to adjust and I could then see her foot – there was gap between her toes and the pump that allowed me to see the bright light towards the top of her foot - so I would at least be getting some fresh air.

 

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