Cautiously trying to back away from the approaching girl, Simon kept trying to wave his arms over his head, as if bringing a plane into land. Although in this case, hoping to prevent any giant object from getting any nearer to him.

“W-Wait, Aimée! J-Just wait a second… We can talk about this.”

“I think I’ve already been preeeetty generous with how long I’ve waited, little bug,” the blonde smirked. “You got to have your fun. Twice. And now—"

Taking another stop forwards, she cast her head backwards, admiring the sweaty sheen her previous footprints had left upon the floor behind her, and then turned back to him as she lowered herself down to a crouch. Her green eyes flashing as she reached his level.

“—I get to have mine…”

Aimée’s pristine, pearly grin was larger than Simon’s entire body was now, almost reflecting his appearance in her teeth. Although, the tiny man was doing his level best to place his gaze anywhere but upon her as he still fought to process what had happened to him.

One second he’d be lying upon the bed, arms wide and completely spent after she’d finished with him. By that point, the closed door nearby had made it clear Aimée had whisked off to the bathroom to clean herself up. And the second he stepped off the bed, he’d had his height stolen from him and stood hardly as tall as the giant blonde’s ankle once she returned. And that look on her face told him everything he needed to know, with her clearly expecting to see him like this. To call it absurd was foolish, but to even believe what was happening could’ve been real seemed even more ridiculous to the second year.

“What? Did you think I just wanted you to lick my pussy? Maybe finger me for a bit until your arm gets tired and I have to do it myself? Even fuck you?” Admittedly, yes. That’s exactly what he’d been anticipating when he came up to the room with her. Hell, even when he’d met her, Simon would’ve been lying if that wasn’t at least the second thought that came into his head. “Ugh, god you boys are so lame. Why would I do any of that when I can do this instead?”

Her hands gestured forwards towards his newly shrunken form, nearly knocking him over as he continued to retreat.

“Now, I could just feed you to my pussy. Or sit on your whole body instead of just your pretty little face. Hell, instead of just making you snort my smelly feet, I could wipe your tiny self over every inch of me till you stink even worse than my feet do right now.”

As she referred to it, the acrid scent of her wiggling toes only seemed to be getting stronger as she got nearer to him. Making it quite clear he didn’t want to have anything to do with her stink, her feet, or anything else on her body for that matter, Simon kept up his steady flight. He just wanted to be shot of here, and yet the prospect of that seemed to be dwindling by the second.

“I don’t want any of that! Just let me go, Aimée. I swear, I won’t tell anyone.”

“Holy shit, have you got some nerve. Not only do you wanna just blow your load and leave me hanging, but now you’re swearing too? Fucking rude.”

Even as she feigned offence, her grin was now so wide it’d started to betray the immaturity lurking just below the surface. Whilst she might’ve looked her age, and acted it more often than not, Aimée’s adolescent petulance and attitude was hidden only skin deep, easily unearthed, no matter how far she got from her teenage years. And Simon was watching this all happen in real time.

The image of the girl he’d met and hooked up with melting away second by second, and revealing the brat hiding right behind her.

“Enough games. Get over here,” she said, launching her keen hand forwards like a viper, then drawing him back towards her, now buried in her clammy palm. “You can thank me later that you’re not in the hand that was touching your cock.”

He tried he best to flail about in her grasp, perhaps hoping he might manage to slip out between her fingers, or maybe out the bottom of her hand. However, Aimée casually suppressed any of those hopes with a simple squeeze of her hand.

Once back beside the bed, Aimée unceremoniously tossed his puny form out of her hand and watched gleefully as Simon bounced his way into the centre of the duvet. Quickly joining him as soon as he stopped.

As soon as his senses returned to him, the tiny man turned to look upwards and found himself wholly dwarfed by Aimée’s gorgeous form extending upwards into the sky. Her face now much more visible than it had been whilst he occupied space on the floor, yet no more reachable.

Looming large, she rested upon both knees, with each of her slightly tanned, muscular thighs towering over him and meeting at the centre of the blonde’s slender waist, still barely concealed behind the red lingerie she’d selected for the date hours earlier. Even in his new dreadful reality, it was hard not to ogle and admire her deity-like appearance. Just as uniquely attractive as ever. And yet infinitely more intimidating.

The material traced around her midriff left almost nothing to the imagination, with the front struggling to contain her waiting vulva, and the back all but vanished between her impressive cheeks. Then up further still, past her subtly pierced navel, was the rest of the lingerie laced across her relatively reserved chest. And finally up to her face. Grinning maniacally, framed beautifully by those twin strands of blonde hair hanging down from each side of her face by which anyone could recognise her with a glance.

“Aimée, look, just don—“

“So first, let’s get your punishment out of the way, and then we can start having some fun. How does that sound?” It was clear she’d all but tuned his voice out now. Acting to the beat of her own drum, no matter his protests.

“No I don’t—“

“Perfect, I’m glad you’re humble enough to know when you deserve to be punished. After all, trying to leave a girl high and dry is unbecoming of a gentleman like yourself. But don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to make up for that in a sec…”

Hopping up, Aimée sprung off the bed and pivoted herself in midair, causing Simon to lose his balance and fall straight back onto his ass. Once the world around him became still again, he was faced with the endless surface of her back, and below that, her enormous, jiggling ass. Not to mention each of her large feet now curled up behind her, the soles wrinkling a little as her heels supported her colossal cheeks.

He would’ve backed up and tried to escape once again, but there was nowhere to run now. Her ass in the front and her feet behind, with the blonde’s shins keeping him confined at the sides.

Simon had already been treated to a hint of her pungent peds once he’d shrunk down originally, but now, standing mere inches away from them… It was so much worse.

“So I think you should show just how sorry you are and give me a few kisses. Maybe arooooound… one hundred, I think. And you can put ‘em all right—" She slapped each of her hands onto her cheeks and squeezed them tightly to get a grip on each one, digging her crimson nails in, and then slowly, agonisingly, peeled them apart.

At first, it was hard to tell she was even spreading her buttcheeks, given just how deep the space between them looked to be. But soon enough, once the skin separated with a sickening slurp, a humid wave of stinking sweat burst forth and knocked Simon to his knees. Now combining with the sour scent of her feet, the warm musk that’d been steaming in her ass for god knows how many hours. With just how foul it smelt, it could’ve easily been days instead of hours.

“—on here.”

Following her index finger bravely descending into the sweaty crevice between her cheeks, Simon watched as it snaked down and came to a steady halt right above the misty silhouette of what had to have been her asshole. Tracing along the lacy thong, her polish complimenting the fabric, she then tapped upon her pulsing sphincter expectantly.

“And if I don’t feel every single one of those kisses planted right on my ring, then don’t blame me when my butthole thinks it’s found a new chew-toy.”

Quivering as he got back to his feet, Simon looked up at the side-profile of her face staring back at him. Her nostrils flared and that emerald iris flashing down as her lips curled. “Come ooooon, don’t look so fucking glum. It’ll only take you, what? Like, five minutes? Six tops. And then we can finally get started. God, I’ve been waiting all day for your tongue to meet my toes…”

Those very toes seemed to scrunch up at the thought. Releasing a little more of the scent into Simon’s orbit as he still fought to hold back his lunch. But there was no point fighting this anymore.

Decidedly not taking a deep breath, he stumbled forwards and slowly vanished into the scorching air lingering between her cheeks, causing Aimée’s eye to widen a little as she lost sight of him.

Things were pretty dark in her crack, causing him to have to navigate with his hands pressed up against the cheeks on either side. She giggled high above, feeling her sweat running of her skin and down his arms.

He couldn’t have been sure, given the intensity of her smell clouding his mind and the lack of light at the centre of her ass, but once near enough, Simon swore he noticed some kind of loops sewn onto the string of fabric making up her thong. Each one looking too tight for his head or body to slip into, but just wide enough to fit his wrists of ankles through.

However before he could examine further, her fingertip lifted up and hooked the fabric to the side, presenting him with unfiltered access to her anus.

“Chop chop,” she called out, now drumming her fingertip next to him. “No time like the present.”

He buried the urge to run as deeply as he could, taking a quick look back to life outside of the giant blonde’s ass, and then turned to face the ring of muscle again, this time surprised by the presence of another finger resting at the base of his skull. Slowly but surely guiding him forwards. Right to her waiting butthole.

“…oh god, this is…”

But he didn’t have time to lament his situation any further, as he came right up against her ring and instinctually pursed his lips, ready to kiss as she’d demanded.

“Unless you want me to have you smell what I ate for lunch earlier—" Her stomach gurgled menacingly far above him, causing her asshole to shake a little in response. Her potential ammunition and weapon working together in harmony. “I suggest you stop gawking and moping like a sore, little loser and start kissing… my… butt.”

With every last syllable, she shoved him closer. Both cheeks jiggling expectantly, and now, Simon did as he was told. Leaning forward and planting his lips right onto her asshole.

If her finger hadn’t been keeping him there, there was no doubt he would’ve recoiled and retched in equal measure, feeling his toes curl at the slimy texture coating the muscle. Not to mention the horrid taste that quickly overwhelmed his tongue and forced him to take a deep breath through his nose to compensate. Making things far worse than they already were.

And even when her finger let him free, it wasn’t like the disgusting taste left his mouth. Nor was he able to clear her sweaty fog from the inside of his lungs.

“Oh good boy, really get in there. You were so excited to kiss me earlier, so go ahead and enjoy that flavour for me,” her thunderous voice simpered, audibly holding back a giggle. “Only, what? Ninety-nine more to go, right? Lucky boy.”

Whipping around the corner in a flash, the brown-haired girl flew down the cracked pavement, hardly taking in any of her surroundings as she skipped from stone to stone, sliding riskily between the pedestrians that strolled leisurely towards her. Each one offering a different, perplexed stare as she swept by before flinging herself around the next corner and barrelling down the following street, almost tackling an elderly woman as she moved.

“Sorry!!” Was all Blaire managed to cry over her shoulder towards the incensed pensioner, then vanishing from sight into the oncoming crowd.

Although she was rapidly beginning to run out of breath, a quick check of her watch renewed her efforts and her pace continued. “Not again, not again… crap, crap, cra-“ Beads of sweat upsurged and glistened across her exposed brow as her fringe blew up over her scalp. Her tanned features now flushed to a darkening shade around her cheeks and forehead.

Step after step, Blaire’s breathing worsened and her footfalls became heavier and less precise, making her both clumsier and increasingly reluctant to call out apologies to the bystanders she hassled. Although that didn’t halt the guilt she felt for causing them grief.

She checked her watch once more, eyes widening as her window closed more and more. “—it’s okay, I’ll… I’ll make it…” She wheezed out, in an effort to reassure herself as time ticked away before her eyes.

After several more streets, the petite girl finally screeched to a grinding halt outside a small, unremarkable café. Her thick-soled boots catching against the uneven slabs and smoothing out any remaining rubber groves beneath the well-loved footwear. What’d once been a textured and imposing sole now looked anything but, even if the neck of the boot still held some impressive power to it. Clashing dramatically with her own reserved presence.

Above her, the intermittently flashing sign beckoned her inside as the purple neon ‘CA_LA’S’ burned bright. Still missing the illuminated ‘R’ that had ceased functioning several weeks back. But Blaire didn’t mind. She was just glad to have made it. And after checking her watch one final time, the exhausted pixie forced a relieved sigh and slipped passed the ornate door, prompting a jingle from the bell above the entrance.

Inside the café, things were much the same as they ever were. Never truly packed with patrons, yet always seeing to manage a steady supply of customers eager to secure their morning order following the arduous school run or ahead of the mad dash to beat the rush hour traffic. Blaire always found herself in the latter, although burdened by the additional issue of her order’s specificity. But for the first time this week, she was sure she’d left enough time for it. And if they’d already stopped providing for it, well, she’d… she’d… probably just say nothing and sulk on her commute instead. Much as Blaire would love to think she’d demand what she sought or even cause a scene in the process, the timid girl knew there was no chance of that. She’d sooner rob the place than draw that much attention to herself. And there was no chance in hell of her doing something that brazen.

Having instinctually joined the diminishing queue upon entering, Blaire operated on autopilot as she started to examine her environment a little more thoroughly. Gazing around wistfully and moving only when the line thinned and her placement shifted ever closer to the counter at the far end of the humble establishment.

Whether it was an indictment on her or more upon Carla’s patrons, she was definitely starting to recognise people here. And really hoped the same wasn’t true of her.

She’d been coming to Carla’s ever since moving here, and even though the café had gone through several remodelling attempts, each one prompted by a change in management, the vibe and layout remained mostly untampered with.

Situated on the bottom corner of an average city block, the little place had always drawn her eye even before she ever stepped foot inside. With its constantly occupied booths, delightful and comfy, planted behind each of the exterior windows. Each one panelled with ornate wood and engraved to match the door frame. On the far side wall, a small, modest counter on which all manner of cakes and goodies were placed after being carried out from the kitchen, which wasn’t sealed away like some establishments, but instead left open for all to observe and for all the sublime aromas to flood out.

Naturally, the café door was positioned on the near-sided wall, flanked by large windows on either side and lying beyond it, the main counter. Separated from the kitchen behind by a waist-high barrier, with only a single, saloon-like door allowing passage between them. It meant only one member of staff could pass at a time, but given the audience the place drew, there were never too many people required to cover their bases. At least from what Blaire could tell.

Besides that, the area out front wasn’t particularly spacious, permitting only a single member of staff to serve at any one time, but the demand was rarely extreme enough to cause any issues. Though she’d never been to one, it reminded her of certain American diners in its essence, for one reason or another, even if the appearance was quite different.

“Next!” A voice rang out, shaking Blaire back into the present.

She was now feet away from the counter, so hastily trotted forwards and smiled reluctantly. The middle-aged woman opposite her looked a little weary as she tapped at the till, perhaps having already worked a long shift by the time Blaire had arrived. Yet, she seemed to perk up as she flicked her eyes up to the wall clock and spoke again before Blaire had a chance to speak. Ahh, customer service mode, she thought to herself.

“Sorry, hun. Just one moment,” she said, holding up a calloused palm, then leaning back and calling out over her shoulder. “Kirsty! Can you cover front? I’ve gotta take my break?”

It was a few seconds before any response came, during which Blaire politely bowed her head and placed her hands behind her back, rocking from side to side as she pretended to be engrossed in the choice of flooring.

“Can’t! I’m sorting the next batch.” A call came back, amidst much clattering and clanking from out of sight. “Hang on, lemme grab the new girl. Oi, blondie! Aimée!”

“What is it?” Another voice joined the chorus, considerably less urgent than the first.

“Mary needs you out front.”

“Right now?”

Another pause. “Uh no, in about, uhh, fifteen minutes? Of course, ‘right now’! Get your butt out there.”

“Fine, fine, fine. I’ve got it.”

The lady behind the till looked around impatiently, bouncing her leg and refusing to meet Blaire’s meek gaze as they both awaited the nearing footsteps. Intentionally or otherwise, either way, the shorter of the two was quite happy to avoid any unnecessary socialising whilst she waited to be served.

Moments later, the double-action doors swung open wide and a new figure stepped out over the threshold, behind speedily brushed past by the previous woman who’d been operating the till. Mary, presumably. And that Kirsty was still in the back. So that meant the new figure had to be…

“Heya! Sorry about the wait. I’m Aimée. How can I help ya?”

Although she’d been more than ready to offer her order to the previous member of staff, the new person’s presence had absolutely thrown her for a loop. Inadvertently causing Blaire’s mouth to dry up and for her whole body to clench as she processed the figure now standing before her, already able to feel her palms clamming up. The two of them were separated by little more than a slim counter and a matter of feet, but it felt a whole lot less than that now.

The previous lady had seemed a little irritable but not unapproachable. Fairly plain looking and obviously tired, as Blaire had noted earlier. Yet her replacement was… well, anything but. The only similarity between the two was the deep burgundy, collared shirts they each wore, accented by the perfect white of the aprons around their midriffs, covering up the black skirt below. Though with the counter between them, Blaire couldn’t see anything below that.

For a start, she stood a good head’s height above Blaire, at least, and that was with the brunette wearing some of her chunkier boots that easily added an inch or two to her diminutive frame of little above five foot. From there, the comparisons only became starker, as her eyes caressed every inch of the girl it was possible to take in. Any sense of time slipped away from her as Blaire did all she could to avoid her jaw sliding open like some cartoon character.

Her bright blonde hair appeared simultaneously longer and shorter than that of Blaire’s own conservative brown locks, with much of its seeming to spring out little more than a few inches from her scalp, a tad messily, excluding two measured strands sprouting out from either side of her head. The tips of which trailed down neatly to hang over her temples and landed just above her chest. Framed by her hair and sparkling at the centre of her face, the blonde’s emerald eyes glimmered as they caught the morning rays creeping in from outside, illuminating the rest of her face in the process. Her softly pointed nose, smooth jawline, and slim lips all worked in harmony, along with the surrounding, warmth of her skin that glowed faintly. It wasn’t quite a tan, nor the lack of one, just simply a subtle, tasteful bronzing, the likes of which Blaire had seen her friends acquire after extensive time spent out beneath the rays and less from any deliberate manifestation.

“Erm, hello? You still with me there?” The blonde girl’s voice called from afar, intruding upon her thoughts.

It took Blaire another few moments to realise just what was going on and yet another few on top of that to regain control of herself. Even if her throat still hadn’t quite recovered from the initial encounter, and the shock that rolled in with it, she still tried to respond.

“I— *cough*, yes, I’m… sorry.”

The girl smiled politely, her pupils opening up a little more. “That’s alright, don’t sweat it. Now, what can I get you? Did you need any help deciding, or are you something of a regular?”

Her throat was getting better, but still not entirely cooperating the way she needed it to.

“I’m a… you know…” Blaire was still grasping for words as she drifted back down to reality, waving a little with her hands as if that might’ve brought the phrase she was looking for, prompting another smile to bloom upon the blonde’s features.

“A regular. I figured. So, what’ll it be? I’d start recommending you specials, but I bet you already knew what you wanted before I started work, huh?”

Blaire was honestly thrown quite off balance by just how forthcoming her conversational partner insisted on being. Not that the shorter of the two couldn’t engage in a conversation, even if she’d rather not more often than not, but the sheer effortlessness with which this girl breezed through her lines was quite intimidating. Almost suffocating compared with Blaire’s usual interactions with strangers.

She forced a bit of a light chuckle, admitting to the blonde’s suspicions. “Heh, yeah, I g-guess?”

Again, those thin lips smiled right through her. That green gaze burning a hole right through her forehead.

“Well then, what’ll it be?”

Fortunately able to get away without as many words now, Blaire simply pointed to her order with a slender finger, before adding, “Just without normal milk. Oat, if you’ve got it?”

The girl named Aimée spun around and followed the angle of Blaire’s gesture to the nearby board outlining most of the options someone could’ve ordered. Even placing her own paler finger upon the exact spot to which the shorter girl had directed. Only now the blonde’s face dropped the smile somewhat.

“Ahh, sorry. We stopped doing that like five, maybe ten, minutes ago?” She explained, stepping back to the countertop. “Not sure why we only serve that one up to a certain time, but…” She then shrugged, as if to conclude her musings.

Blaire drew up her wrist frantically and stared through her watch. Although she didn’t make a sound, her despair was quite apparent even to the girl opposite her. Her shoulders sank and her brown skin lost much of the vibrance it possessed. Blaire looked entirely crestfallen, even if she was too reserved to admit it verbally. She was certain she'd made it on time. There was no way she'd missed it!

“I… oh…”

She lifted her head a bit, trying to muster a smile, but getting nowhere fast. “D-Don’t worry about it then… I’ll just—“

“Wait a sec,” the blonde cut her off, now frowning in place of her deeper stare. “Let me… let me see what I can do. Hold on. Don’t move an inch.”

Blaire did as she was told, not entirely sure why, but taking orders from the blonde seemed to happen almost on instinct. Not to mention it sounded like she was used to telling people what to do.

Aimée turned and pushed herself through the doors behind the counter, leaning inside as she started to speak to the people in the back. This also now revealed a little more of the rest of her figure to Blaire, who was still stood still and trying not to look at her server too much, in case she seemed rude. However, the blonde’s cute choice of tights and flats couldn’t help but catch her eye. As did her rather impressive rear that struggled to hide just above the lip of the skirt.

“Hey! Any chance we can do any more of number four?”

“Nope,” a voice called back quickly, sounding like the one that’d summoned Aimée originally. “That’s only for a limited time each day. No can do, I’m afraid.”

“Come ooooon!” The blonde bargained, before shooting a sly glance over her should and catching Blaire’s eyes searching where they probably ought not to have been. “It’s for a friend. She’ll be devastated, and it’s only like five minutes over.”

The pause between responses was a little longer this time, though covered up by much clanking and clanging from out of sight.

“It’s for a friend?”

“Yeah!”

Again, relative silence. And then…

“Uhhh, fine. But don’t blame me if Mary gets stressy about it.”

“She can blame me if it’s a problem,” Aimée reassured, turning back around and drawing Blaire’s surprised gaze back up to her own eyes. And then flashing the subtlest of winks before reaching the counter again.

“That’ll be three pound, ten pence.”

Blaire was in a state of shock for the second time since encountering the blonde now, only this time due to the baffling generosity she’d just displayed. She didn’t even know her, and yet…

“Y-You… you didn’t need to do that…” Blaire whispered, absolutely mortified at the prospect of her having caused someone any manner of grief for her own benefit. But she was quickly waved away with a smirk.

Reaching into her pocket, the brunette passed the coins over the counter, placing them directly onto the girl’s waiting palm. She wasn’t quite sure why she’d done it, normally preferring to pay contactless or simply place the change upon the countertop and slide it over. But for some reason or another, she felt compelled to meet the exchange as she did. Feeling her own darker skin brush up against the blonde’s paler, cooler flesh.

The two locked eyes for a fraction of a second. Green clashing with hazel. Not staring away nor crossing incidentally, but a deliberate melding of gazes. Until Blaire pulled her sight down to the ground and to that of her own shuffling feet, only sneaking another look seconds later to realise the girl’s glittering eyes were still staring back at her. And the look they imbibed was no longer one of passive warmth but something altogether different. More deliberate than before. Was it intrigue, or confusion? No, it was something more intense than that. Maybe…

“Just a sec,” she finally spoke, snapping her hand shut and turning away to fiddle with the machine to her side.

Her fingertips tapped away out of sight, only briefly having been visible to Blaire. Mostly due to their chipping red polish catching the light in much the same way her eyes did. Although not nearly to the same dazzling extent.

As she deposited the payment, the shorter girl couldn’t be certain, but it looked to Blaire as if the blonde was suddenly standing a little lopsidedly. As if one of her legs was longer than the other, or she was putting more of her weight down on one foot instead of the other. Maybe it was just an issue with her flats, but the strange thing was that she hadn’t looked like it moments earlier. For the rest of their conversation, the blonde had looked perfectly level, and yet now stood lopsidedly.

It was probably nothing, but her curious brain made note of it all the same. Maybe one shoe was just a little more worn than the other. God knows Blaire could relate to that, having had more than her fair share of issues with her own footwear choices in recent months. Not least concerning the stifling boots she now wore.

“Right, that’s all done,” she said, looking up from the till. “Let me just see if Kirsty’s got your order.”

And then she did exactly that, returning a couple of moments later with the beverage in hand. Although this time she didn’t hold her hand out to meet Blaire’s, instead placing the drink on the counter and sliding it over to her.

“There you are…” Her eyebrows raised, clearly expecting a response from her customer.

“Oh! B-Blaire,” she said, before adding a quick note of thanks for her help. “You really didn’t need to do that. I c-could’ve gone without.”

“Nonsense. Happy to lend a hand... Blaire.” Her smile was back to beaming now, even as she jumped a little. “Oh, and I almost forgot,” the girl said abruptly, twirling to snatch something from the surface to her side. “Your receipt.”

“It’s quite alright, you can keep it, thanks.”

Aimée smiled a little more forcefully, tilting her head a little and catching the morning light on a different part of her iris.

“I’d much rather you hold onto it, if that’s alright.”

Blaire wasn’t quite sure how to take that, tipping her own head as she processed the words. “…I don’t…”

“Trust me. Just, yanno, give it a once over. Check everything’s in order. Goodness knows I’d hate for you to miss anything important…”

Once again, Blaire was finding her compelled to follow the girl’s words, whether she actually wanted to or not. Charisma seemed like too light of a word from the vibes she was feeling radiating onto her. But still, she offered a smile back and nodded, taking the receipt into her hand as she departed the café.

And as she gripped the door handle, she tried to stop herself from looking back but found her own willpower rather lacking. So shooting a look over her shoulder and finding the blonde still looking right back at her, even whilst serving the next customer.

Stepping back into the street, Blaire ducked out of the open onslaught of pedestrians and into a side street, taking the first sip of her drink and feeling all her building nerves settle down dramatically. If she’d known her experience at Carla’s would’ve been that intense, she probably would’ve just taken the hit in skipping it today. However, then she remembered the slightly crumpled paper still clutched in her free palm.r32;

Drawing it out, the printed record seemed to be as she’d expected. The correct price, the correct order. All the usual, unchanged as ever. However, as she peered more closely, Blaire spotted the faintest of outlines peaking through the rear of the paper, though it remained a little hard to decipher.r32;

Until she flipped it around, of course.

Hastily scrawled, hardly fitting onto the lower corner of the receipt, were two individual bits of text. The first, letters, and the second, numbers.

The former, five simple letters.

“AIMÉE”. Perhaps a formality, though legibly written and with a flourish over the accent. An effort to foster good relations between staff and customers, Blaire reasoned, quite understandably. Until those thoughts were instantly undermined by the series of numbers jotted beneath the name.

It couldn’t be. Surely not. But it looked… almost like… a phone number?

Blaire let out a little yelp, almost dropping her drink as she clutched the paper close to her chest, as if trying to shield it from anyone else’s wandering eyes. Then darting her gaze from side to side. But of course, not a single person paid her any mind.

Then slowly, carefully, she drew her hand back from her chest and peeked again. Flicking her eyes down and then replacing her clammy palm above her breast. There was absolutely no denying it. The girl’s name, and her number.

Blaire’s stomach fluttered as she gulped unnecessarily hard. Her heart skipping one beat after another as she processed things. Was this an accident? No, it couldn’t be. Had the blonde girl been hitting on her? Was that why she’d been acting so nice and… and…

Flustered didn’t quite do justice to the visible distress coursing through Blaire’s body.

She let out a withering sigh. How on earth was she supposed to get any work done today after this?!

Allowing the door to snap shut behind her, just barely fitting into its misaligned frame, Aimée let out a prolonged sigh as she finally stepped into the comfort of her apartment. Standing still, arms above her head, she simply enjoyed the rippling relief that shuddered down her back before slowly lowering them back down.

Though it was already getting quite late, she was glad she’d left at least one light on when departing for work that morning. She knew that stepping into the dim, amber glow was a whole lot more inviting than the cold darkness she would’ve been greeted with otherwise, but her less-than-perfect memory couldn’t always be relied upon to remember to leave a light on. Though, no doubt her energy bills would start kicking the shit out of her for her extra effort sooner or later.

Turning around to flick the lock shut, Aimée made sure the door was tightly sealed then wasted no time in traipsing over to the sofa to her right and flopping down onto it. Just barely avoiding the nearby lamp with her legs as she used her remaining energy to vault the sofa arm nearest the door and pencil dive in the direct centre of the cushions she’d left sprawled out across the furniture. Bouncing as she landed, knocking a few of the cushions onto the floor, the blonde allowed another contented sigh to leave her lips before she turned herself face up and hooked her hands behind her head. Though she’d originally disliked the sofa upon moving in, as it wasn’t quite long enough for her reasonable height to lie completely flat upon it, Aimée had come to enjoy having either her head raised upwards on one armrest or having her ankles elevated and hanging off the edge of the sofa. And today, it felt like the latter was more appropriate. So her flat-covered feet hung slightly and her eyes lazily drifted upwards, cresting the cream ceiling above.

She just lay there for a few minutes, steadily breathing in and out. Most of her golden hair had fanned out as she turned, as much as it could, given its conservative length, whilst both long strands had whipped up and over her brow.

However, Aimée was hardly granted more than a few minutes of peace before she felt a familiar twitching bubbling up from against her right foot. Seeming to originate from the tightly compressed space between her sole and the insole of her work flats. And whilst she frowned a little at the sudden intrusion, it wasn’t long before that expression twisted into something a little more joyful.

It’d been a few hours since she’d felt any movement coming from her shoe, but now there was no doubt that the little thing was coming back to life. Maybe spurred on by the lack of getting their whole body stomped senseless. Though she still kept her foot loosely contained within the shoe, simmering softly after the extra hours she’d spent on her feet at the café.

Normally Aimée would’ve been home hours ago, especially on days when she had a date to prepare for. But when her boss made a demand, it wasn’t like there was much she could do to slip out of it. Such was the hierarchy she endured and lamented. However, on the plus side, it was a little more money in her pocket and a little extra time spent on her feet…

Giving her toes a quick squeeze, the blonde smirked to herself as the movement sharply increased in response. Mostly soothing and tickling her sore sole, but not all of it seemed to be situated around her sole. A bit of squirming felt a tad higher up. Closer to her clammy digits. Damn, that poor girl.

“So you are still with me, huh?” Aimée called out, giving her toes another momentary squeeze before flexing them as much as the confines of her shoe would allow. “Phew, thank the lord. I was starting to get a little worried you might’ve kicked the bucket… but it sounds like you’re hanging in there. Plus, you got lucky enough to enjoy my smelly feet for an extra few hours too! You’re welcome for that, by the way.”

She was very tempted to let her flats slip off and finally grant the tiny girl a breath of air that wasn’t getting relentlessly poisoned by her feet, which she’d readily admit felt pretty damn sweaty even by her usual work standards. However, that all seemed a little too generous of her. So instead, Aimée gracefully popped her heel out and dangled the shoe just enough to feel some of the apartment’s cooler air kissing against the bottom of her foot. Knowing the girl would feel what she was doing.

Hopefully, her current captive wouldn’t try anything silly like freeing herself to make a run for it, but given the tape she’d used to secure her in place earlier, that’d be a tall order. Not impossible, but certainly not easy. And given how restrained the girl’s movements felt, she still seemed to be pretty secure.

“Man, I was meaning to ask - how was that in the end? I feel like it’s been at least a couple weeks since I’ve let a date come to work with me. And there’s no shot those flats are getting any less stinky from when I first bought them a couple months back, so that must’ve been pretty fucking fragrant for you. Told you I had a better perfume for you to wear instead of that nasty shit you had on last night. I mean, seriously? You thought… what was it, like, ‘oak and lilies’ actually smelt good?”

The constant shifting against her sole was now joined by the occasionally muffled vibration, presumably coming from the girl’s mouth. It felt like failed attempts to communicate the extent of her suffering after getting used as a hapless insole all day long. Or maybe she was just pointlessly trying to defend her shitty perfume choices. Either way, Aimée didn’t bother to suppress a giggle at her expense.

“Yeah, yeah. Bitch all you want, but at the end of the day, I’m the one that gets to choose when you come out of there. And I’m also the one that gets to choose what smells your tiny butt gets to choke on. At least for a couple more hours,” she teased. Looking down, Aimée checked her phone just to make sure her timings were correct.

“So if you want out of there before my next suitor comes knocking…” She leant to the side and rapped her knuckles against the wall. “Then I’d suggest you start trying to butter me up a bit. Maybe by giving me a few kisses. Yanno, to thank me for how well I’ve treated you today!”

The motion under her foot got a little more frenzied at that comment, only broadening Aimée’s smile further. Giggling, she hooked her unoccupied foot beneath the sole of her right shoe and pulled her left leg up a little. Just enough to push her dangling flat back on and seriously squeeze her captive who was back to being compacted between her sweaty sole and the grimy insole it’d begun to destroy.

“That doesn’t feel like kissing to me~” She spoke in a sickly sweet voice, bordering on the kind of sing-song voice someone would’ve expected to hear in a school playground.

Even after she stopped pushing against the bottom of her shoe, it still took a couple of minutes for the trapped tiny to settle down, and a few minutes more before she seemed to realise her reality and start doing as Aimée had suggested.

Though the blonde couldn’t see her sentient sole servant, the effort felt woeful at best. Maybe a whole day spent smelling her feet and getting walked on had understandably knocked the wind out of the tiny girl, though she doubted it given just how eagerly she’d been thrashing about down there until now.

“Oh come on. You call that kissing? Nope. Nuh-uh. That’s not gonna fly.”

Slipping her heel back out of the sticky flat, Aimée started to rock her ankle up and down upon the armrest, causing the dangling shoe to hang off her toes and begin to swing forwards before slapping back against her sole. Tenderising her sore, hardworking skin along with her tiny captive too. Each impact making a loud, wet slap.

“You’re starting to make me think you want to stay down there, bitch. Don’t tell me you’ve got a foot fetish too?”

Her ankle kept springing upon the armrest, keeping the weathered insole smacking against her foot. Aimée was almost sure she could hear the girl squealing every time the surface collided with her back and smushed her face-first into the blonde’s skin again and again.

“I haven’t forgotten the effort those lips were putting into my pits yesterday, so don’t think you can trick me that easily. I know what a kiss from you feels like. So… yanno, just get on with it,” she said petulantly. Even leaning her head to the side to remind herself of the scent the tiny girl had been enjoying the night before.

And although her underarms still smelt a little fragrant, partly due to the long day she’d just suffered through, Aimée knew her feet were always a considerable step up from whatever her armpits were capable of. Unless of course, she’d just finished football training, which then caused every single part of her body to reek far beyond its normal bounds.

Before too long, her fragile foot servant seem to relent and started to plan a few passionately moist kisses upon her equally moist sole. It entertained Aimée to no end imagining how much the poor little thing was hating every second of this. Even if it wasn’t exactly going to get better for her anytime soon. Though still, she appreciated the effort and made sure to pile on the teasing to serenade the girl as she worked.

“Oh yeaaah, that’s better. Keep that up and maybe I’ll let you go before my next toy rocks up. Unless he straight sucks at kissing my feet, then maybe I’ll just hang onto you for a little longer,” she suggested, running her teeth across her bottom lip as she felt the girl pause for a second. “What do you think? Reckon you’d enjoy spending another day at the café with me?”

The kissing got a little stronger still, with the tiny girl seeming to kick off a full-on make-out session with her stinky sole. Something she’d probably have been expecting to instigate when hooking up the previous evening, only to end up a couple of inches tall and reluctantly slobbering all over Aimée’s musty underarms.

Letting her eyes shut, the blonde’s mind began to drift for a few moments. It’d been a pretty standard day, yet she still felt more tired than usual, for some reason or another. At first, she thought maybe the customers had just been particularly anal with their orders or attitude, but honestly, she couldn’t confirm that. The same went for her co-workers. Nothing out of the ordinary. So if it wasn’t that… then what on earth had drained her so much…?

Eyelids snapping back open, Aimée’s mind locked itself down and she saw, in startling detail, that pretty brown face again. The girl at the café. Sheepishly staring back at her, then trying not to meet her gaze, just as they’d done earlier.

It couldn’t be, she thought to herself.

There was no way that a random stranger had managed to cause such an effect on her. Sure, she was very cute, and Aimée could already imagine that shy, whimpering little face poking out from between her clenched toes as she slipped a particularly smelly sock on - assuming she responded to her advances - but to be playing on her mind still. Even now?

Still casually tormenting the tiny figure she had trapped underfoot and pecking her sweaty sole, Aimée paid the minuscule girl absolutely no mind at all. Instead wrestling with herself over the image of Blaire bouncing around her mind. Only to be derailed as her vision refocused and spotted the boots she’d left out specifically for that night’s entertainment

Casually dominating the tiny figure within her flat wasn’t remotely enough to distract her from Blaire’s image now rattling around her head. The same was true for the girl’s kisses and service, enjoyable though they were, neither would warrant any attention from Aimée. However, as her vision refocused and she spotted the boots she’d specifically left out for that night’s entertainment, that easily proved enough to put thoughts of her future victim aside. At least for now.

“…oh fuck meeeee.”

Slipping herself off the couch and shimmying on her forearms until she was close enough to snatch up the boots, all the while managing to keep her legs suspended in almost the same place they were before.

Then, once grabbed, she flung herself back up and onto the comfortable furniture. But instead of returning to her previous position, Aimée now sat upright. Planting both feet down onto the floor and flattening the girl inside her shoe. And once in position, she paused to examine the pair of shoes she’d had for almost a decade by that point before bringing the first of her boots upwards, taking a rather careful sniff. The way someone might’ve inspected a particularly dangerous-looking chemical.

Even seasoned with pungent scents though she was, the following stink was still more than enough to catch in her throat and bring on a short series of coughs. Though Aimée was careful not to drop her boot in the process.

“…okay, yup… t-that’ll do it…” Dropping the Ugg beside its sibling, she didn’t feel like checking the other one. Confident it’d smell much the same as the first one did.

Leaning back with a sigh, Aimée tried to ignore the impact the smell had upon her, but it was difficult to ignore. As usual, given it’d been a constant source of frustration for years now and something she’d discussed at length with a couple of her most trusted friends. But for a girl like her, with all the power she possessed, to have as strong of a fetish as she did, only to be repulsed by the scent of her own feet… It was the sickest of jokes.

And it wasn’t even like she had the smelliest feet of anyone she knew!

Sure, the blonde might’ve had Phoebe pretty handily beaten when she wanted to, but she clearly couldn’t contend with Kirsten’s output. Even if she wouldn’t let Aimée near her dangerous digits. Whether for her own well-being or just cause she liked to see her friend squirm.

Trying not to let it all bother her at that moment in time, she gave each of her feet a quick shake and sent their flats soaring off towards the TV opposite her. Fortunately not colliding with it in the process. Then, taking a moment to admire how cute her feet looked, Aimée brought her occupied foot up and let out an audible laugh as she saw the tiny girl completely flat-packed against her reddened sole. Properly smothered up in her flesh, to the point where she was impressed the poor thing had managed to draw back enough to kiss her foot in the first place.

“Still with me?”

The struggling response told her all she needed to know, even if the tiny was still much too compressed to even reply.

“Perfect. Well, how about we get you away from there for a bit, huh?” She said, delicately taking hold of one of the girl’s stretched-out arms.

The tape she’d used to secure the tiny thing to her her sole almost ten hours earlier, back when she could still remember the little bug’s name, had long since unstuck, probably now wallowing somewhere in her grimy flat. Yet her little captive remained tightly adhered to her sole, looking just as flush and sticky as the skin surrounding her.

Bringing on another collection of laughs, Aimée drank in the sight of the girl still fused to her stinky foot even without the tape. Clearly having stomped and squashed her enough during her shift to make freedom practically impossible without the blonde’s direct assistance. Which, after another few moments of allowing the little one to muffle her frustrations against her sore skin, Aimée provided.

“AIMÉE! YOU F-FUCKING ABSOLUTE BITCH!!”

The ferocity of yells caught Aimée by surprise, almost leading to her dropping the girl as she shrieked and flailed around in her palm. Even though the people she shrank usually had their volume impaired by the process, that didn’t seem to be the case this time. Or maybe this girl was just that loud.

Aimée gave the girl an instinctual squeeze, hoping that might shut her up a bit. “Woah. Jesus. Don’t wake the fucking neighbours, you loon.”

Incensed wasn’t wrong, but didn’t do the look on her sweaty little face justice.

“YOU WEAR ME IN YOUR SMELLY FUCKING SHOE FOR A WHOLE DAY, AND YOU THINK I GIVE A SHIT ABOUT WHAT YOUR NEIGHBOURS THINK?!”

Obviously, the squeezing hadn’t done much to restrict her voice. 

“Well you might not, but I do. And unfortunately for you, what I think actually matters. Unlike whatever you think.”

The girl opened her mouth to retort, only to find an enormous fleshly plateau forced down onto her face as Aimée lazily repositioned her thumb to have a bit of peace. Though muffled, she still refused to be quiet, much to the giant’s annoyance.

“Look, I know you can hear me. So listen up. I’m gonna take my thumb off your face in a second and you’re going to behave, or so help me I’ll staple you into my cleats for the next month. Like, right up by the toes too, until you fucking melt. Got it?”

The vibrations against her fingerprint seemed to die down a little, along with the girl’s constant movements.

“Okay, good,” she continued, removing her thumb from her face. “Now, I’ve got a bit of date prep to be getting on with. So I need you to—“

“Aimée... I’m not going back in your flats.”

Letting her eyes dart around for a second, Aimée shot the girl a peculiar look. Almost certain she’d misheard her.

“I… okay? I mean, you’re actually going in my boots, so yeah, that’s fine with me.”

“Come on. Haven’t I been through enough today?”

“Maybe? I dunno what it’s like to be stuck in my shoes, do I? I guess you can tell me sometime, but right now I’ve gotta warm up these Uggs for the dude that’s coming over in a bit, so you’re gonna give me a hand.”

Aimée made it sound like he’d made a request for her to wear those shoes in particular for one reason or another, but in reality, she knew it’d just been way too long since she’d last given someone the pleasure of getting intimate with those nasty old things. And luckily for her upcoming suitor, he was going to be her fortunate boot boy for the evening. The boots would’ve been perfect as they were, but it just felt right to wear them for a little while beforehand, if only to freshen up their stale scent.

Suddenly bringing her hand towards the waiting mouth of her left boot, the lurch in motion appeared to send a jolt of fear through the tiny girl’s system. Either that, or she just caught a whiff of the scent lurking inside it.

“No, please. Aimée, PLEASE! I don’t want to smell your fucking feet anymore. This is so… so…”

“—fucking sweet, right? And if you’ve had enough of the smell, then stop being such a drama queen and just hold your breath,” she sneered, bringing the girl right over the opening of the reeking Ugg. “I’m sure you can manage that for like… what? Two more hours?”

The anguish behind the girl’s eyes was escalating. “AIMÉEEEE! THIS ISN’T FUNNY!”

“Oh, it’s pretty fucking funny. Now, go and make yourself at home down there and I’ll be sure to let you go before he gets here. Deal?”

The girl didn’t even stop to think. “NO DEAL!”

Aimée frowned, widening her eyes and looking legitimately hurt by the rejection she’d just suffered. Denied the fun she desired with two words from her shrunken toy. Of course, she’d have no possible choice but to respect her decision.

“Damnnn, I can’t believe you’d say that…” Then paused, breaking out into a wide, sickening smile, now dangling the girl by one leg alone. “Anyway!”

Releasing her fingers, the smug blonde dumped the flailing girl into the stale abyss of her fiercely smelly Ugg boot. Grimacing a little, Aimée had to clear her throat as she brought her foot up to block access to the fur-lined stink trap, having accidentally caught a whiff of the scent failing to hide inside it.

Even barely getting near her Uggs meant Aimée couldn’t avoid the inevitable waft she got from the shaft, endlessly pumping its scent upwards. Whilst fairly unnoticeable at a bit of a distance, it became actively inescapable the closer someone got to those tortured menaces. Whether big or small.

“Welcome to the swamp, loser!”

Rearranging herself quickly, she hastily crammed her feet into both boots. Starting with the empty one, then moving on to the occupied interior of the second.

Smoothly tugging the boot onto her foot, Aimée simpered as she felt the fur caress her skin as the girl’s body crumpled beneath her sole as her foot settled into place. It wasn’t exactly easy to tell precisely where she was, given all the thick strands of material, but this time it felt like her tiny girl had been caught face down. Instead of having her face ground into Aimée supple sole, now she was getting flattened downwards into the rancid insole of the giant blonde’s abused boot. Arguably worse than the alternative.

Any sensible person would’ve chucked those Uggs out years ago. But not her.

Once her feet were tightly settled inside the boots, already warming them up with the latent heat left over from her busy day, she slumped back into the couch and kicked her legs up once again. Her eyes admired their beloved appearance as her foot enjoyed its roommate’s increasingly violent reaction to the smell now sealed inside with her.

Even a simple glance at the beige fabric of her trusty Uggs brought back so many pleasant memories for Aimée, drawing a wistful smile onto her relentlessly radiant features. This time thinking back to her senior school days, and the boy who’d thought it was a good idea to brandish his affections by shoulder-blocking her at every chance he got. She couldn’t remember his whole name but at least remembered he was called Alex. He’d been pretty popular right up until they finished their GCSEs, but personally, she’d never found him the slightest bit interesting and thought he had wholly deserved the formal warning the school had ended up giving him after he missed an entire week of classes and refused to explain why.

To this day, she was pretty certain everyone in their year had decided he’d been on some kind of mad drug binge, including his similarly hubristic parents. If only they’d known he’d actually been in school the whole time, just trapped and gagged inside her smelly Ugg boots, getting worn by her for five days straight. Aimée hadn’t asked if he could hear the outside world whilst inside her boots and wasn’t sure if he’d been able to learn anything during his stay under her feet, however, she had to admit he’d become a pretty competent foot slave by the time she released him.

Perhaps it was a little excessive on her part, considering just how much of a knock his confidence seem to take after that. Although it wasn’t like her shoulder hadn’t taken a few knocks too! There was just something about getting made to spend a whole week curled up under a teenage girl’s toes as she knowingly forced them to sniff up every last bit of stench that her giant sweaty feet and boots could create that really humbled arrogant boys. She absolutely could’ve had him doing whatever she wanted after only a day or two, but it was just much more fun to keep him isolated and compressed at the bottom of her stinky boot. And even after all that, Aimée still hoped he’d learn to talk to girls, instead of knocking them over, though she doubted it.

Landing back in her present self, the blonde put any thought of Alex out of her mind and focused on catching up on various messages she’d missed during work. Crossing one ankle over the other and settling in for the long haul.

Immediately noticing one of the last threads she’d been replying to, Aimée finally remembered the girl’s name. Although, only because her phone had made it plainly obvious with the conversation having been her most recent correspondence.

Quickly scrolling through, she smirked a little as she read back Erica having asked whether she needed to bring any toiletries for the following morning. To which she’d assured her that she didn’t need to bother with that as it wouldn’t be an issue. If only she’d known.

“Hmm, I might need to try wearing you mini people in some of my stinkier shoes in future,” Aimée spoke aloud, hoping the thrashing girl might hear her. “It’s so much more relaxing when you wriggle around like that. You trying to make up for that shit foot massage from last night? Or is the smell really just that bad?”

Unable to translate the muffled vibrations against her foot, Aimée decided to assume the former. Because that really was woeful.

Returning to scrolling, she planned on letting the girl out in a couple of hours, once her boots had warmed up a little and tiny Erica had sucked down enough of her fumes to pass out several times over.

There was no chance she’d be able to get them up close to their peak vileness before the guy showed up, but still…  it was always useful to have a tiny loser around to sample her scent and judge just how successful her efforts were.

As expected, the rest of her day was a total write-off.

Blaire had been having a hard enough time trying to keep her focus on her studies as it was, and now this? It was the last thing she needed. Yet another disruption to her already tenuous hold on what could generously be called an ‘attention span’.

Sitting in the university’s library, she had plenty of time to think and fixate on whatever she wanted to, having already finished her lectures for the week and having had no outstanding assignments to complete. And yet her eyes could do very little beyond glancing down at the small scrap of paper every five seconds. Her beady eyes scanned over every minute detail, from Aimée’s handwriting to the pen she must’ve used to scribble down her name and number.

It was so much more interesting than dramatic techniques popularised across England in the 1500s. That was without question.

“Oh no way, Blaire!”

Looking up, her tanned skin catching the light from the nearest window, the petite girl caught sight of the approaching figure. One of the guys on her course, and one of the few with whom she spoke.

“H-Hey Josh,” she spluttered, battling to wrestle her mind away from the paper she was clumsily sliding under the notes she’d left sprawled over the table. “What’s up?”

Dropping down into the seat opposite her, he stretched his arms back and laced his fingers around the back of his head. “Just the person I was looking for. You’re not busy with something are you?”

“Oh n-no. Not at all. What’s up?”

“You sure?” He added, raising an eyebrow. “You seemed pretty focused on something when I walked in.”

“I was? I don’t… I think was just kinda zoned out to be fair.”

“Ha, I get that. Pretty much how I’ve been every day this week. Dunno about you, but that lecture yesterday—“

“—Was shit, yeah. I’m not sure why that brought that guy in for the workshop, 'cause he didn’t really seem to know what he was doing.”

Admittedly, yesterday had been the first lecture she’d seen him attend in weeks. And it wasn’t like she’d missed a single one since starting the course. However, Blaire wasn’t about to suddenly start interrogating him over his absences, given she didn’t care that much considering it wouldn’t affect her much before him pestering her from time to time.

“For sure. For sure,” he nodded along, then unlaced his fingers and leant forwards. “Anyways. I wanted to see if I could borrow your notes from last week. I was suuuuper ill and missed like all the lectures, and Farrow refused to send me any of the slideshows.”

Her face didn’t crack, remaining quite stoic.

“Oh, yeah I did think something was up 'cause I hadn't seen you in any of them.” Blaire had seen plenty of his Instagram stories of wavy camera angles and an absolute shed-load of alcohol though. So him being ‘ill’ was certainly one way to phrase it.

“Yeah, it was pretty bad. So, whaddya say? Can you help me out?”

As a person, Josh wasn’t the slightest bit intimidating to Blaire, unlike some of the men in her class, given her diminutive stature. Comparatively, he was much closer to her in standing and physique, though not as short. His hair was even styled quite similarly to her own short cut, albeit blonde instead of brunette. However, there was something slightly endearing about his disposition even if it was just trying to cover up his desperation to copy someone else’s work whilst he’d been recovering from daily hangovers. Charming was too generous, but it was something all the same.

“I… I guess I could lend you some of it. It’s not like I’ve got everything with me, but I coul—“

“Oh sweet. You’re a lifesaver, Blaire. I’ll really owe you one for this.” Josh was already back to his relaxed pose, doing his best to casually lean backwards against the rigid chair.

Meanwhile, Blaire nodded away his thanks and aptly concealed her exasperation whilst she dug around in her bag. Trying to snatch up any of the folders that she’d used to keep track of all the notes she’d taken. Even though plenty of her classmates couldn’t believe she didn’t just write stuff down digitally, it’d done little to persuade her otherwise. Plus, it was ultimately just a benefit to the rest of them, many of whom seemed to have no problem asking to see what she’d noted when their own notes failed them.

“Just make sure not to damage anything, cause I don’t have any extra copies.”

“Sure, sure. Don’t worry about it, I’ll be super careful. Trust me.”

His rapturously nodding face didn’t exactly fill her with confidence. But, in the same breath, she had no reason to doubt his thus far, given the previous few times he’d returned her work without a blemish in sight.

The two conversed for a little while longer, though not about anything remotely productive. And all the while, Blaire’s mind slowly drifted back towards the paper she’d buried when he interrupted, even to the point of pulling a corner of it out as Josh rambled just to catch a glance at it.

It was stupid, she’d willingly admit. It was just a receipt with a bit of writing scrawled upon it, but what it represented to her was something completely alien to her. Being someone who’d tended to only admire people from afar and rarely follow up on her attractions, Blaire could only admit to having two prior relationships up until now and neither of which had lasted for very long. So having someone else coming onto her, even in this small way… was… terrifying.

“Right, I should really split,” Josh said, getting to his feet. “Appreciate the notes, Blaire. And I’ll try and catch you tomorrow, yeah?”

“Y-Yeah… see you then.”

Blaire’s attention was plainly not anywhere close to him anymore, which the young man didn’t seem to mind, instead slinging his bag onto his shoulder and pacing away. Only, as he moved away from the table, he did hesitate for a brief second, spotting his classmate thumbing at a small piece of paper. And although he couldn’t make out any specific details on it, Josh could just about spot what looked like a name and number.

Smiling to himself, he decided against pressing the issue and walked off. Perhaps he’d ask her about it when he gave the notes back, considering she seemed distracted enough as it was.

Meanwhile, back at the table, Blaire was gone. Physically there, but mentally trapped in the café from earlier. Ordering her drink. Looking at Aimée.

———

Deep into the evening, she entered her dorm room, having accomplished little more than when she’d been interrupted. And from there, Blaire headed straight for her bedroom. Hardly even acknowledging her other flatmates, each of whom called out greetings or questions to her as they surrounded the TV, watching her pass them intently.

As the door shut, the young brunette immediately dropped onto her bed and began to remove her stifling boots. Her nose winced a little as each one came off, confirming just how poor of a decision she’d made to wear them on today of all days. Then pushing each of the airing shoes aside and rifling through each of her jacket pockets, before drawing out her phone in one hand… and the receipt in the other.

It’d taken more convincing than she’d care to admit, but at this point, she’d reasoned herself in circles. Sure, maybe Aimée would ghost her or perhaps it’d all just been a bit of a stupid joke she was now caught up in. But if that was the worst that could happen, then she could stomach that?

Screw it.

She was going to do it.

———

Across town, a low buzz caught Aimée’s attention. At first, she wasn’t sure where it’d come from, however, once spotting the light flashing from her phone on the bedside table, she could’ve assumed what was now waiting for her. 

Casually rocking the Ugg boot to the side, she glowered down at the struggling boy beneath her with a rather withering look. Fortunately for her, the restraints were still keeping him nicely immobilised and even after only a few minutes, his spasms told her exactly what she needed to know. That the boots were just as rancid as she’d hoped. As if Erica’s limply sodden body hadn’t made that clear earlier, once she’d let her previous toy go.

Leaning back further still, Aimée completely drew the mouth of her boot away from his face. Giggling as she admired teary eyes and generally pitiful appearance.

“Wow, talk about an overreaction. Are they really that stinky?”

Although he was panting hard, the boy just about managed a response. Much to her amusement. “…Aimée… A-Aimée… you h-have to—“

But his plea was quickly cut short as she dropped the boot back down, masking his face with its smelly shaft once again.

“Don’t care. Keep sniffing.”

Had his mouth been gagged and taped it would’ve almost certainly been easier to keep tabs on him. Stop him calling for help and all that. Plus she could’ve had him suck some of the sweat out of her socks at the same time. But it also would’ve deprived her of all the begging and bargaining that seriously tickled her, so for now, she felt it was worth the risk of him being able to call for help. Assuming he could even get that loud after a full dose of her musty foot stink.

After a few more minutes of odorous torment, concentrated straight from the fur-lined footwear, Aimée spotted her phone buzz once again. This time allowing the boot to slide from his face and instead pressed her palm flat into the boy’s bare chest as she shuffled herself off of him. Making sure to swing her right foot right over his face as she moved. Wiggling her toes to dust off a little of her perspiration into his heaving mouth.

Not that she’d ever tell him, but she’d been quite comfortable atop one of her dates for once. Usually, she preferred to just sit on their faces and smother them up between her slick buns, which wasn’t exactly comfortable but made for some great, muffled entertainment. So she had to hand it to him for that. He had a pretty nice body, and his stomach was comfy as fuck.

“Just wait here a moment… I’ll be back for you in a sec~”

Quickly padding across the carpet, Aimée reached out and grabbed her phone. Clicking the lock screen and unlocking it so she could see the full extent of the messages she’d received instead of the previews alone. And although she didn’t recognise the number, the sender had been generous enough to identify themselves almost immediately.

Hello! It’s Blaire, from the café. I’m sorry to bother you, especially if wasn’t supposed to have this number, but I was wondering if you wanted to meet up? Like, for a coffee or something?

And then a few minutes later…

It’s okay if you don’t, I understand. Just figured I should ask in case you were interested. But it’s really ok if you’re not. Just, you know, let me know.

The poor girl seemed even more nervous over the phone than she was in person. But that wasn’t a bad thing. It wasn’t an exact science, but Aimée often found the timid ones a little more fun than the loudmouths. Even if breaking her more boisterous pets ended up being more of a spectacle.

And so she typed. Her fingers whizzed across the screen, catching flecks of light across her fraying red polish.

Sweet! Sounds good, Blaire. And I was actually thinkin' maybe a meal might be nice. Whatd’ya think?

It didn’t take more than five seconds after she’d sent the message for the three dots to pop up as Blaire constructed her response.

The blonde couldn’t help but smirk. Did she already have her hooks in that deep? Blaire had to have been waiting for a reply to come through, meaning Aimée was already starting to picture the cute girl lying on her bed, beadily watching for her response.

That sounds really nice. Did you have somewhere in mind? I can try to suggest somewhere if you’d like, but if you have a place you like to go to, then I’m happy to follow your lead.

You bet you’ll be following my lead.

Aimée’s smirk didn’t dissipate as she responded again, this time deciding to leave the girl hanging whilst she finished up her current plans. It’d only been a few minutes, but she was already starting to hear the boy stir, which meant it was only a matter of time before he started to whimper again. And after that, the screaming was never far away.

Course I do! But I’ll drop you a line about that in a bit if that’s alright? I’m kinda in the middle of something rn, so I promise you’ll have my full attention tomorrow, yea?

She didn’t wait for the next reply, now seeing him tugging at his wrist restraints and trying to yank the cords free. Blaire could wait. She wasn’t going anywhere, and neither was he.

Aimée really couldn’t stop herself from smiling now and it was impossible to tell whether it was due to Blaire’s eager response or the sight of the boy still firmly restrained to her bed. Either way, it didn’t matter. Both ultimately resulted in the same thing.

Some poor person having to contend with her severely pungent kinks.

Dropping her phone down onto the table again, Aimée skipped back over and hopped up into the air before landing right on his face. Comfortably muffling the sudden yelp he tried to let out as her considerable bum suddenly appeared over his head. Unfortunately, she was sat side on, so couldn’t fully nestle his nose up to her butthole, but there’d be plenty of time for that later on.

“Awww, did someone miss me?” She cooed, wiggling her hips from side to side as his resistance bubbled up. “Well, I promise I missed you too, big boy.”

Aimée remained seated for a little longer, quite enjoying the vibrations jiggling her cheeks and making their way up towards her pussy. Then pushed off him and landed back down on his chest, maybe a little harder than she’d intended. At least, the low crack that followed, along with his pained wheeze, seemed to imply she’d done so.

“Wow, you look pretty fucked up already. What was it? My big ol’ butt, or those fucking nasty boots? Come on, don’t be shy, you can tell me. It’ll be our little secret…”

As he flailed, she slowly leant backwards, keeping herself steady with one arm planted at his side whilst using the other to creep down across his midriff until she felt the hem of his underwear. And then slowly began to slide it down, all as he tried to recover from the damage she’d done to his ribs.

“…f-fuck… you…” And then a long breath. “L-L-Let me g-go… y-you crazy b-bitch…”

Aimée cackled. “Hahaha, you’re really struggling to speak, huh? Did I puncture a lung? Mhm, maybe you should be a little more grateful. I mean, if you can’t breathe, that means you don’t have to smell my stinky feet, right?” She carefully lifted her right leg and playfully scrunched her toes inches above his nose. “How about we see if those lungs are still working…”

Almost immediately he was back to coughing and spluttering. Busted airways or not, right now her feet were just too smelly to even hope to avoid that kind of reaction.

“Awww, what a shame. Sounds like your lungs are still holding out on me. Well, that sucks for you. Guess you’re still in prime sniffing condition, and I’ve got just the thing in mind to really put those nostrils to good use.”

Slipping off his body to sit at his side, Aimée curled her fingers around his exposed cock and squeezed, forcing him to inhale a bit too deeply as her foot got steadily closer towards his face.

“Now,” she said curtly, one hand on his member, the other quickly stuffing a nearby sock into his gob before he could interrupt her. “Let’s see if we can’t get you to love my feet just as much as I do. And don’t worry, we’ve all night if it takes that long. Though, fair warning. If you hold out on me for too long, we might just have to raise the stakes a little…”

Whether he blew his load or not, it didn’t make a difference to her. There was only one way this evening was ending. Aimée flat on her back, fingering herself blind and letting her moans keep her neighbours up into the early hours. And with him shrunk down and trapped in her boot, face first against her sweaty sole, getting stink tortured within an inch of his tiny little life.r32;

Considering just how much was moaning and snivelling already, with her foot not having even touched his face, fuck knows how he was going to handle stewing inside that humid cave whilst she wore him. But that wasn’t her problem.

“Ready?”

His eyes were getting wider now. His head shook as he tried to look past her lowering foot and wordlessly plead something to her.

“Set…”

Her pretty toes parted, allowing him a good look at the moisture trapped between them, making it abundantly clear the digits were making plenty of space for his nose to slip right in between them.

“Go!”

Slamming her foot down, Aimée easily trapped his nostrils right in the fuming crevice of her longest toes whilst pinning his lips shut beneath her sole. And at the same time, she began to stroke his cock with more affection than she’d shown him all evening. Hell, more affection than she’d shown any of her dates for a while.

Even after the first couple of passes, she really couldn’t tell if his shuddering moans were from her talented hands or smelly feet. Aimée would’ve asked him but his mouth was a little preoccupied, so she decided it had to have been because of her hands. There was just no way her cute, hardworking size sevens could make a boy like him whine like that… right?