Since that time, I found myself spending almost every evening with Rachel. It would be repetitive to go over every time that I attended a game, or that we watched TV together, or that I found myself working diligently at her stuffy toes, small or large depending on her mood, but there are certain moments worth recounting.

            Once, I found myself tiny, crawling little ant lion swirls around her bare back, planting desultory kisses on whatever freckle happened to fall in front of me. Rachel sighed happily at each one while perusing a textbook, making sure she was prepared for an upcoming exam. Shimmy, shimmy, kiss, shimmy, shimmy, shimmy, kiss, kiss, shimmy, kiss, in rings from the small of her back to her shoulder blades.

            “Hey, there's a spot here that looks a little weird. You should get it checked out.” I said, coming across a slightly lopsided beauty mark.

            “Where?” She asked.

            “Here.” I jumped up and down.

            “Feels like...my left side, middle of my ribs?” She guessed.

            “More like your oblique.” I said.

            “Really?” She turned her head slightly, “Is it bigger than a pencil eraser?”

            “I...don't think so?” I said, not really sure the best way to measure in my current state.

            “I'll have my doc look at it at my next check-up.” She turned back to her book, “Thanks, Koj'.”

            “You know it.” I planted a kiss on the crooked freckle and kept moving along.

            “The next game we have is an away game.” Rachel said.

            “Oh, really?” I replied, “Where at?”

            She told me the name of the college, which I didn't recognize but pretended to. “It's a weekend game. Do you want to come?”

            “Duh.” I said, “Is there room for me on the bus?”

            “No.” I could hear the smile in her voice, “But there's room in my bag.”

            “A whole weekend tiny?” I asked.

            “Got a problem with that?” She retorted.

            “This isn't like Animorphs, right? I'm not going to get stuck that way?” I asked.

            “Like what?” She asked in return.

            “Animorphs. You never read Animorphs as a kid?” I asked.

            “No. I kind of wish I did read more back then, though.” She said.

            “Never too late to start reading.” I said, “I could lend you some stuff, if you want.”

            “Aw, that'd be great.” She said, “You can get me more into reading, and I can get you more into...I don't know, needlework?”

            “Needlework? You?” I laughed.

            “Hey, star athletes can be into sewing. I can make some killer embroidery designs, you know.” She said.

            “That...” I was going to take another playful jab, but decided against it, “...would actually be pretty cool. I don't even know how to sew a patch.”

            “Cool. And to answer your question, no, you won't get stuck that way.” She said, “Well, not unless I never grow you back.”

            “Okay, good. I think.” I said.

            “Practice soon.” She glanced at her clock, “And since you found me sewing so funny, you're gonna help me prep, c'mere.”

            Her arm twisted behind her back, blindly reaching for me but not coming particularly close.

            “Need help?” I asked.

            “No.” She lied.

            “Okay, I'll just...” I wandered my way over towards her upper spine, a spot I was sure she couldn't reach. Her other hand appeared from the opposite side, both feeling around for my little footsteps. I watched her head shake back and forth, face pushed into the soft mattress, as she continued to grope away.

            “Forget it.” She finally said, pushing herself up by her arms and swinging her legs under, making my floor suddenly become a steep hill. I slid and bounced and landed in a soft pile of sheets, dazed, but still giggling to myself. She turned and snatched me up, carrying me over to the desk, “Now you're really in for it.”

            She slid a drawer open and produced a dirty tennis ball, now more gray than yellow, and smirked down at me.

            “Oh, uh oh.” I peeped.

            “That's right, 'uh oh,'” she said, snagging the tape dispenser as well. Her thick finger pressed me against the furry covering of the ball, thumb pushing over and extending my left arm. I heard the tape rip and her other hand mashed a piece down, holding my arm in place. Her thumb shifted, another rip, another piece of tape, my right arm now incapacitated. Two more repetitions and I was completely restrained. I tugged at my plastic cuffs, but they didn't budge. Scotch tape never felt this tough when I was normal sized, but I supposed a lot of things were stronger than you when you were basically an insect.

            “Hmm...” Rachel admired her handiwork, before extending her finger again, nail scratching against my pants until they tore open, my genitals flopping out like they'd been waiting for this moment, “There, perfect.”

            “Okay, I know what you're thinking.” I tugged at my arms again, “But I feel like I should explain my actions.”

            “Nah, save it.” Rachel said, “In fact, maybe I should put tape over your mouth too.”

            “Uh...” I stammered.

            “Just kidding.” She said, “But the only sound I'd better hear out of you is sniffing. Otherwise you'll be in real trouble, Koji-bug.”

            “Y-yes, miss.” I hung my head dramatically, a quaint mirroring of the direction my penis was pointing.

            “Miss!” She said jovially, grabbing my ball prison and lowering it to the floor, “Now there's a title. Not sure if I like it though, maybe master would be better? Coach? Ooh, what about captain? Do you want to call me captain?”

            “I'd feel like a pirate.” I said.

            “Well, tongue out, matey, you're about to scrub the keel.” She said, and god she was quick witted, I had to give her that.

            “Aye, cap'n.” I said, no slouch myself.

            “Just be glad you're not swabbin' the poop deck.” And with that she lifted one of her barge sized feet and plopped it right on top of me. It was a novel sensation, to say the least, to be rolled around under Rachel's sole. She'd push forward, I'd roll backwards, out from under her toes; she'd pull back, I'd slip beneath her arch, all the while tongue flat like a sponge, dirt sticking whenever Rachel skillfully piloted me into new areas.

            I suppose all that was just the warmup, because then came the pressure. I could feel the tennis ball compressing under me as my own body began to deform, Rachel now greedily working loose her muscles while simultaneously teasing my throbbing member. And lest you think that relentless rubbing was just incidental, it's worth noting that every single time I quivered in preparation for a satisfying conclusion, my podalic warden would engage in a moment of plantar flexion, toes splayed, often right over my face, and heel raised, so no part of that sweating apparatus touched my shaft, which would twitch, beg for release. Once it had calmed down she'd begin again, a brilliant and utterly devastating act that drove me mad in the most nectarous way. She could have asked me to do anything at that moment, she could have asked me to break any taboo, I would have done it if it meant she'd let me come.

            She didn't, of course, ask me for anything. She switched to her other foot without comment, new sweat, new dirt, same unending undulations beneath her sole, toes wriggling over my mouth and nose, ball flattening me like paper, arches a respite in name only, rough heel scraping like sandpaper, all the while the occasional flex kept me in the throes of aching and unending anticipation.

            “Okay, nice and loose.” She said after what could have been an hour, my sense of time completely eroded by her powerful feet, “Time to get going.”

            She stood and began checking her gym bag for all the essentials, before slipping on her running shoes and walking towards the door.

            “Uh, hey! Are you just gonna leave me like this?” I desperately called after her, struggling again against my shackles.

            “Oh, right, I knew I forgot something.” She spun back around, knowing smile playing across her lips. She knelt down and picked up the tennis ball, which was now matted and damp, and gave me a villainous grin, “I know just where to keep you.”

            “W-wait, you're not-” I started.

            “Nope! You're just gonna hang out until I come back.” She said, grabbing something beyond my line of sight, “I don't want you to get bored though, so you can stay in here.”

            With that she turned me around and I found myself facing the gaping maw of an old skater shoe. I could see the imprint of her foot deep within, size and brand rubbed clean away from her steps, and could taste the salty air which seemed to emanate from that cavern. She lowered me and my modern pillory into the opening, the ball being just large enough to sit atop, leaving me suspended in darkness and thick, musky air, St. Andrew's crucifixion in tape, rubber, and sweat. I heard her happily hum to herself, a fading melody that ended with the close of the door and the click of the lock. Like it or not, I was her captive for the next few hours.

            My erection was actually beginning to hurt, but there was nothing I could do to calm it. I tried to do deep breath exercises, but every inhale was filled with the steamy scent of Rachel. If finding mental peace wouldn't help, perhaps mental rage would fill the gap. I pulled against the tape, again and again, struggling like a maniac, nearly snapping my arms in the thrashing, but only succeeded in exhausted myself until I could do nothing but hang limply, well, all except for one bit, I suppose.

            In my slowly relaxing breaths, the shape of Rachel's shoe began to fill with a soft roar, like the sound of the ocean inside a conch shell. Perhaps the shape of the sneaker worked as a natural amplifier of ambient noise, perhaps my mind was simply reacting to sensory deprivation, but in either case, the noise continued its crescendo until it was deafening, a phantom foghorn in my ears. By this time I'd adjusted to the smell, and the intensity of that sound coupled with my fatigue caused my precum stained penis to finally go flaccid. I closed my eyes and shook my head back and forth, trying to will away the growl in that humid air. How long had I been in here even? A minute? An hour? In the darkness behind my eyelids I saw her suggestive smirk. So crafty, so wily, my captain was.

            I must have dozed, dreams and thoughts milling like cattle in that twilight, because I was suddenly shocked to full consciousness by the slam of the door.

            “I'm hooo~oome.” Rachel sang. I heard her heavy, tired steps clomp over to my fashionable jail, and then I was rising, whirling around, and facing the glimmering eyes of my captor, “Have fun while I was gone?”

            “No.” I moaned, her presence being enough to reengage my rigid plumbing.

            “Aww, poor thing.” She said facetiously, “Practice was pretty hard today, and it's been getting warmer.”

            Rachel bent her wrist with a flourish, showing off her body. She was dressed just as she'd left, but was now soaked in a layer of sweat, some still dripping from the sides of her tank top and her forehead. Had she added a jog on the way back or something?

            “Looks like it.” I huffed.

            “I bet you're pretty thirsty.” She said.

            “Yeah.” I said.

            “Well here, take a sip.” She said, giggling and pulling me towards her opposite arm, which lifted, and stuffed me into that gap between her shirt and armpit. Drops of sweat slid down her glistening skin, bearing down on me like a pack of wolves. As one drew close to my face, I mindlessly opened my mouth, allowing the salty liquid to enter, and greedily gulped it down, before coughing and sputtering, too much to drink in at once.

            “Wow, I didn't expect you to try. And if you think my pits are bad...” She started, pulling the ball back to a neutral position. Her other hand rose, one finger wiggling its way under the tape on my legs, finally allowing them to lift and break free of confinement, before continuing beneath my back, pulling me up from the tennis ball, at long last. She dropped it to the floor, carefully peeling away the tape on my arms, a degree of attentive precision beyond what I'd expected, allowing her to remove it all without hurting me.

            “Th-thank you.” I gripped my hands and rolled my ankles, trying to recirculate some blood.

            “Oh, don't thank me yet.” She said, lowering me to the ground, placing me just in front of her running shoes. She took a seat and began to pop them off, the same slow strip tease she'd done so long ago. Underneath were thick, white socks, the soles now matted flat and stiff, the print of her feet outlined in dull gray. One foot lifted and approached me, toes gripping in anticipation, until they closed over my head. Darkness again, but now I couldn't breathe. The cotton had absorbed so much moisture it was like a soaked sponge, and each attempt at an inhale only brought in a mouthful of sweat. The word wasn't yet in my lexicon, but I'd later learn that I was essentially being waterboarded.

            It couldn't have been longer than fifteen or so seconds, but that was my limit. I thrashed in a panic, and Rachel recognized this immediately, letting go, pulling her foot away, and knocking the chair backwards so that she could crouch down low enough to get a better look at me.

            “Hey, hey, are you okay?” She said worriedly.

            “Y-yeah, yeah.” I spluttered, taking in rough breaths of clean air, “I couldn't breathe.”

            “Oh no, I'm sorry, Koji, I didn't realize...” She looked almost like she was on the edge of tears.

            “It's okay, it's okay.” I said firmly, “Hey, look at me. It's okay, you didn't know.”

            “Alright.” She sighed, perhaps not totally convinced, “Sorry. I guess I was feeling particularly mean tonight.”

            “I like it when you're mean.” I admitted, adding with a good-natured laugh “But not when I'm drowning.”

            “Maybe we should take a break.” She said.

            “Yeah, I could use a break in general.” I said.

            “It's 10. Want to watch a movie? I have a few tapes, or we could flip around and find something.” She said.

            “That sounds really nice.” I said.

            “Do you want to be big or small?” She asked.

            “Your call.” I said.

            “I think...” She pondered for a second, “I want the large teddy bear tonight.”

            “You got it.” I replied, already beginning to grow back. We were shortly standing eye to eye, and she threw her arms around me.

            “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” She said, squeezing me.

            “It's okay!” I squeezed back, “It was a mistake, and now you know.”

            “And knowing is half the battle.” She said it like those old GI Joe bumpers, laughing so as not to cry.

            “What are we watching?” I asked, wanting to change the subject to something more benign.

            “Who cares, I just want to cuddle.” She said.

            We washed, changed into more comfortable clothes, and curled up in bed together, television tuned to a random channel. I was the small spoon this time around, and she gripped me close, breathing into the back of my neck, occasionally kissing it with little pecks. I held her arms in front of me, responding to each little kiss with one of my own on her wrists, palms, and fingers.

            “I think I owe you this, by the way.” She whispered into my ear after a while.

            One of her hands lowered, rubbing along my mid-line until it reached my penis, taking its stiffening shaft into a soft grip. One, two, three pumps and that was it, I came with one long spurt and a full body shiver, the mess caught by a frantically grabbed tissue.

            “Oh!” She said, surprised.

            “Er, yeah..” I bit my lip, “I'd been on the edge since you put me on the ball.”

            “Wow.” She said, “I'll have to tape you down more often.”

            “Mmhmm.” I replied.

            “Maybe right in my shoe. Then you could lick my toes all day long.” She laughed.

            “Mm.” I replied.

            “Or maybe...” She probably brainstormed for a while longer, but I was already asleep, my body drained of anything left to keep it awake.