There are benefits to living in a narrow, cramped house on stilts. We’ve got a joined kitchen and living room and small 3x3 metre bedrooms and my buddy Eric lives in what’s supposed to be a storage room beneath the house. The rental crisis and yadda yadda and so on and so forth and the likes and such.

No, the sole benefit is his mate Liv who has the master upstairs and it’s on my mind at the moment because it’s directly above my room, and right now I can’t stop listening to the floorboards creak and the headboard tap-tap-tapping the wall as she fucks my other roommate, Dan. Both of them love the gym and they’re both blonde and they’re both perfect and my dick is in my hand as I imagine the sweat dripping off Liv’s forehead as she rides his long meaty cock. Her big tits bouncing as she sits up and takes his length, smirking down at him as she runs her hand down his hairy chest, and oh my god I wish I was there in the room with them, just a fly on the wall, literally as small as a fly, watching from the bedside table as these two chiselled gods make love to each other and rock my world. I swear the whole house shudders with each thrust.

There’s a knock on my door.

“DONT COME IN!” I yell, way too frantically.

“Dude, relax.” It’s Eric and he opens my door and I quickly pull up the covers and peer at him. “I was just wondering if I could use your butter,” he says.

“Oh… yeah. Sure.”

He smiles at me and looks at the ceiling. He shakes his head and closes the door without another word.

I groan as I rub my hand along my hard cock. I’m such a fucking embarrassment. I want to lick the sweat off Liv’s feet when she comes home from the gym and kiss her biceps after a pump. I try not to think of Dan, but I can’t help it and it only makes me harder when I try to ignore that mountain of a man. They continue this ritual each night and I’m always drained by the morning.

A few days later and it’s the middle of the week and Dan and Eric are at work. Liv and I are lying on the couches watching Succession, she got back from the gym half an hour ago. Our couch is arranged like an L with its back against the wall. Liv’s head lies on the armrest and my head is somewhere near the crook of the L. I’m swimming in the salty scent of her post workout feet but I don’t say anything. The bottom of her white socks are soiled grey on the ball and toes and she occasionally fidgets and scrunches them but I try not to look too long.

I like Succession. The characters are interesting, I hate them but I love them and I’d be lying if I didn’t want to know what happens to that little weasel. Liv loves succession and she’s been getting me to watch it with her as she goes about her third rewatch. She calls Kendall baby girl and since I relate to his daddy issues, I sometimes think that if Liv knew me better maybe she’d call me the same thing while my heads in her lap and she strokes my hair.

“Were you whacking off to me and Dan last night?” Liv says.

I blink. Everything stops for a moment and resumes when I feel ice cold as the blood drains from my face. I can’t stop thinking about their bodies writhing atop each other in the dark.

“What?” I say.

“I said were you whacking off to the sound of me fucking Dan last night?”

I turn to face her and she’s looking at me with her eyebrow cocked.

“What?” I say again.

“You are such a little squirmer.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Eric told me he caught you.”

Fucking prick.

“It’s called a joke,” I say.

“Oh really?”

“Yeah.” I settle back onto the couch and try to play it cool. “He’s taking the piss.”

We watch for a little longer but when the episode ends Liv gets up and grabs her phone and walks upstairs. Under the coffee table I see her discarded gym shoes and I practice a few moments of discipline before I lean over and pick them up and sniff the insoles deeply. She wears a Men’s size 13 and the soles are almost black in the shape of her wide foot. It smells like rubber and a cheddary funk and I’m such a piece of shit to invade her privacy like this but that’s what makes turns me on even more, so I’m caught in some perpetual loop of hatred and arousal and time is a flat circle. C’est la vie I say.

Two nights later our house is alive with commotion as the beers flow and we’re all gathered in the living room sprawled on the couches red faced and laughing. Liv guarantees she could beat Eric in an arm wrestle and he uses his wit to fight back but it doesn’t last long before he crumbles and they kneel beside the coffee table and link hands. Dan goes to get another beer and he asks if I want another. Yes please. Liv taunts Eric and tells him he’s a tiny little man and Eric calls her Bigfoot. They call me over to adjudicate. I hold their hands and countdown from three and they’re off. Liv’s brow furrows and she’s got a wicked grin on her face as her bicep bulges and a vein pops along it, Eric can barely keep up and his cheeks go red and he lets out a huff of air as his arm gets pushed further and further down.

“Jesus,” he breathes.

“Fuckin’…. Easy!” Liv shouts as she smacks his hand on the glass. When Dan returns he’s laughing at Eric and egging him on to go again.

“No way, she’s been snorting creatine.” He’s exhausted.

“Come on Finn get over here, lemme show you who’s boss.”

I love when Liv gets like this, when she’s all amped up and braggadocios. I kneel across from her.

“You know I have no chance.”

“Damn right.”

Her hand swallows mine and she could just yank me over the table if she wanted. She drums her fingers along the outside of my hand and I almost whimper when she squeezes it. Dan places his larger calloused hand over both of ours and counts us in. I try my best but Liv let’s out a hot rush of air from her nose and quickly moves my arm sideways and it smacks against the glass louder than Eric’s did.

“Dan you’re next!” She throws my hand away and Dan pushes me aside as he kneels down too. I take my beer and retreat to my room a little while later, I’m not embarrassed but it’s this other weird feeling caused by being physically bested by a woman who’s ten times stronger than me. You can imagine the one.

Next week, it’s Liv and I’s session of Succession again and we’re lying in the same position. This time I angle myself so I’m lying on my side which means I have unmitigated access to watching the bottom of her socked soles. I scooch a touch closer and I swear the smell of her feet is so powerful it’s almost too much. It’s salty and fresh and my nose wrinkles instinctively from the warm earthy musk. Her feet are best described as beefy, the kinda feet that belong to girls who are a little more heavy set, where their toes are pudgy and fat and squish together and their whole foot is puffy and broad and just generally… big. I want to press my face against her socks so bad they look so soft and they stink and I’m not even paying attention to the show.

Her feet part and Liv is staring down at me through the long muscled tunnel of her legs.

“Having fun down there?”

“Sorry, I was falling asleep sorry.”

That made her cackle. “Oh my god Finn. I’ve been watching you ogle my feet for the last ten minutes.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Oh right, so you just like curling up at my feet while we watch TV?”

“I was dozing off.”

“No Finn, you always do that. Do you think I haven’t noticed how you get in that position every time we lie like this?”

I’m unsure of how to respond.

“Do you like my feet? Is that it? God, and I just got back from the gym. Or do you like that too?”

She’s staring right at me, there’s something of a smirk on the corner of her lips but I feel like if I say anything I might get on my hands and knees and start barking uncontrollably.

“I should go. I’m sorry.” I stand up and her hand snags my wrist and sits me back down on the couch and she sits up herself.

“I want you to admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“You’re such a pest. If you admit it, I’ll let you get as close and personal as you want.”

Hook, line and - “okay you got me. I like your feet. Dans not gonna beat the shit out of me, is he?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Uh, okay.”

“Did you think that Dan was fucking me last night?”

“Well, it goes both ways doesn’t it.”

“I was doing the fucking,” she says, pulling me closer and runs her nail gently down the length of my forearm, “with a cock about this big.” She glances at the tent in my shorts and looks back at me with a smile. “What do you think of that?”

I swallow and breathe. “That’s fucking hot,” I say.

She snorts and pats my cheek. “You’re cute.” She stands up and I’m too awestruck to remind her of our deal as she stretches out her back and her triceps and traps harden. “And unsurprising.” She gathers her things, her gym shoes included, and walks upstairs, leaving me in the middle of an important episode of Succession where I don’t even know what’s happening. They’re in congress, and from what I gather, you can’t make a tomlette without cracking a few greggs.

The next morning I’m standing by the sink pouring myself a tea, staring blankly at the water as it turns brown when I hear footsteps on the front stairs. In comes Liv stomping careless and heavy, chatting away on her phone, she’s red and sweaty from a run. “He loves it, seriously… yes that Dan.” She giggles and stops in the kitchen and leans on the counter. We make eye contact and she raises her brow in short acknowledgment. I turn back to my tea and keep listening. “No you’re so right, it’s hard to pick with some guys but like, I have a radar for these things… oh yeah, he’s such a little bitch.” She laughs. “Did I tell you what happened yesterday? So you know that other guy that moved in recently? Yeah him, the short one.” I turn around because they’re talking about me and Liv is already looking at me and she smugly waves her fingertips at me. “We were watching TV and he was practically drooling over my feet… yeah, and I just got back from the gym too, like, they were rank…I know, it’s always the foot guys… no but get this, this little shit openly admits to me that he was jerking off to the sound of me fucking Dan a few nights before,” she bursts into laughter. “Yup, I told him. You should’ve seen his face. It was so red.” It was incredibly red. “I swear men are just not what they used to be.”

I took my tea and left the kitchen, I made my way to the side of the house and entered Eric’s room. He’s painting the underside of his skateboard deck.

“Yo,” he says.

“Why the fuck did you tell Liv I was having a wank over her.”

“What?” He scoffs. “Were you actually?”

“What?”

“I mean, I was joking, but that’s hilarious.”

“You’re a cunt mate.”

“Says the one getting hard over moving furniture.”

I walk away from his hobbit hole scorned.

That night the creaking and tapping rattles from the ceiling again and the image of Liv and Dan is much clearer in my mind. This time it’s Dan on his hands and knees while Liv triumphantly rides him from behind, she’s much bigger in my dreams though and I don’t imagine she has a strap on, instead she has her own cock and her big balls slap into his each time she thrusts and the bed screeches across the floor. Dan whimpers and Liv grabs his hair and pulls it back as she leaves red scratch marks down his back and she growls in his ear that he’s half the man she is and this is what a real cock feels like. She pulls out and lays the length of her shaft on his back and lets him feel the girth of it before she continues to rub it up and down the crack of his ass and over his back and then hot cum erupts over his shoulders and I erupt too in a panting fit.

It’s afternoon by the time I wake up and Eric is reading Moby Dick in the kitchen.

“Afternoon sir,” he says.

“Finished early today?” I say as I open the fridge and look around for something to eat.

“Yup.” He continues reading and I decide I’ll just make scrambled eggs. As I’m whisking Eric puts his book down and speaks up. “Hey have you seen Dan recently?”

I hadn’t in the last two days. “Nah but, there was… action last night.”

“Weird. His doors locked but no one’s answering.”

“Right.”

“Anyway,” he slaps his book shut and stands up. “I’m garn skate park.” He packs his tote bag and grabs his board and away he goes.

It is weird though, Dan’s not one to be an introvert. When I finish breakfast, I walk upstairs and can’t help myself but peer into Liv’s room briefly and like Ahab I spot the whale of my obsession, sitting there proudly on her dresser is an enormous clear dildo attached to a harness and I’m so scared of it that I can’t bring myself to snoop any further and shut the door fast. Dan’s bedroom is a few paces down and locked shut. I knock.

“Dan?” I knock again. “Dan are you in there?”

“Go away,” he replies softly but, it’s not the deep voice I’ve come to know.

“Are you okay?”

“Finn… drop it.”

“Come on man, talk to me, what’s up?”

No reply.

“I won’t judge, I won’t laugh. I’ll just stand here and listen.”

“I - I don’t know how to say it. You won’t make a big deal?”

“I promise.”

The door unlocks and swings open and there stands Dan in a rugby shirt that goes to his knees, that’s the kicker, he’s shorter than me. A whole lot shorter, like he used to tower over me and now he looks like a kid, and he’s not built like a brick shithouse anymore, he’s scrawny and sickly looking.

“Oh, wow,” I say.

I’m not laughing because my mind is running wild thinking how can I get this to happen to me.

“Oh man,” he turns away and flops on his bed. “I don’t know what the fuck’s happening to me.”

“When did this happen?”

“Yesterday.”

“Did you take anything?”

“I fucking shrunk Finn.” He sinks his face into a pillow. “I don’t take anything,” he says all muffled.

I’m standing there awkwardly in the entrance to his room and I’m really no help at all because god help me if I can’t stop imagining this little diminished version of Dan being railed by the brutish Liv and I so badly wish that it was me instead. It’s as if my thoughts have some twisted power to listen and act because it’s exactly then when the front door slams shut and Liv’s voice echoes through the house.

Liv always announces her arrival and her bold voice reverberates through the walls as she sings out who’s home. Dan looks at me with terror and shakes his head and blubbers that he can’t do it again. This put me in the middle and as Liv started to come up the stairs I walked outside and shut Dan’s door.

“Who’s that I hear?” She’d be a baritone in a choir.

When she crested the stairs and turned around and saw me standing defiantly in front of his door, the smile of a lion came upon her face, a famished queen of the jungle home from the hunt, blood hot and flushed from working that powerful body of hers, propelling it along the sidewalk. She walks right up to me, each footstep thudding up my wobbly legs and as she looms larger before me, her broad shoulders eclipse mine and I’m eye level with the sweat hidden under her boobs. Dressed in tight running gear that hugs her thick and muscled body, she sneers down at me, that smirk never leaving as a hand goes to her hip and she sizes me up. When she stands this close I can really feel the difference in our heights. She’s somewhere far up in the clouds the upper echelons of six foot something.

“Haven’t seen Dan have you?”

“We were just chatting.”

“And aren’t you such a brave little soldier,” she titters as I stand guard before his door, swapping her hand to the other hip.  

“I’m a steady bulwark.”

“How is the big man?”

“He’s a little under the weather.”

“Poor diddums.” She goes to move past me and my arm shoots out to stop her, a pale twig in the way of a steaming train but she halts, mostly to entertain the idea that I thought I could stop her. “Look at you.” 

“Just trying to do my part ma’am.”

“Bullshit.” She leans down until we’re face to face and even then I can tell her head is bigger than mine, hell when she stands so close to me I can’t help but notice how she totally outsizes me in every aspect of our bodies, she breathes larger, she lives larger. “I know what you like.”

“If you’re so perceptive, why don’t you show me?”

That’s it. Liv grabs a handful of my hair and yanks me behind her, I stumble and almost fall face first into her ass and have to awkwardly fumble behind her to not trip over her legs as she walks with a purpose to her room, she’s really pulling on my hair. She slams the door and throws me on the floor and I land with a soft thud on her carpet. As I roll over my hands shoot up in defence.

“How’d you do it?”

“Do what?” She says as her broad feet land beside me, straddling my torso, each one longer than my ribcage and landing with substantial thumps. The view up her body from the floor is breathtaking, and it’s like the many dreams I’ve had before came alive and now she truly stands over me like a giant. She knows it too, she knows that’s what I’m into, somehow she knows and she’s rubbing it in, letting me really drink in her size and gawk at how her ass eats up those tight shorts and how her washboard abs glisten in the light.

“You know what I mean.”

“But I don’t know what you mean.” Liv squats down until her butt is hanging over my stomach, there’s so much of her I wheeze out when she sits on me with her legs spread out, those trunk thighs of hers boxing my head in and trapping my arms by my side. She plays with me like a schoolyard bully, tensing each quad and batting me back and forth with a final squeeze from both of them as they smush my face together. I can feel my cock poking into the dense flesh of her backside, each cheek covers a large portion of my torso and it’s like we’re detached from each other with this enormous woman setting us apart. “I didn’t do anything. Dan did it to himself, it’s what he really wanted. He might’ve seemed like a big man to you, but I could see it in him, something small and delicate trapped away. He just needed someone like me to show him his place.”

Her words are like music to my ears and I’m lost in the scent worked up between her legs and I’m replaying so many visions I’ve had of her and I start to hump my little hips beneath her, barely budging this behemoth but I try nonetheless and groan as my cock rubs stiff against her plush. I let out a long moan and my eyes roll back.

“Do it to me. Teach me my place,” I whimper pathetically.

Her hand grips my jaw, taking it in its entirety. “Finn…” She says and leans close, I feel her weight roll over my body. “You’re disgusting.”

My eyes shoot open and she’s giving me that smug grin, so close to me I can smell the distaste on her breath.

“I don’t like to make a habit of fucking worms.”

She lets go of my jaw and stands up and I’m left there in a heap with a red face and a wet spot on the tip of my pointed shorts. “W-wait. What?”

“I’m not having sex with you.”

“But, why not?”

“Because you’re a loser. Now get out of my room.”

To say I became obsessed with Liv after that encounter would be an understatement. It consumed my life. I was barely leaving my room letting my mind run wild with thoughts of Liv and her boytoy Dan. I imagined him chained to her cock, even smaller, shorter than her leg and being pulled around by its girth, he lived under her covers and made sure she was satisfied all night, even in her sleep a slight twitch and he was back to work, running his tongue up her length and an absent-minded hand would caress his whole head and press him hard against her pole. Or sometimes I imagined Liv growing larger than all of us, filling the living room with her body, her neck pushed against the ceiling before she bursts through the roof and lets out a mighty roar as she towers over our street. She gets even bigger. Big enough that the tarmac buckles beneath her feet. Houses are pulverised and splinter under the mass of her foot and soon she raises it up and whole city blocks are covered in an ecliptic shadow and down it comes and razes everything to rubble. Laughing thunderously as she scrunches buildings between her broad padded toes.

Each night I hear Liv go at it with Dan and it’s the soundtrack to my thoughts. I’m so jealous of him. At times I drift from being infatuated with her to being impossibly mad with her. It’s so unfair that she won’t do it to me. She can shrink me and she won’t fucking do it. I hate her. I’ll worship her. I avoid her in the kitchen.

When the sun rises the next day, the lawnmower wakes me with its incessant buzzing. It’s so hot today, I can feel it from how the sheets stick to my skin when I roll over. My fault really, it’s been a few days and my room is starting to stink. I am a fucking loser. I repeat Liv’s words to myself. She’s probably the one mowing the lawn too. Now I’m thinking about how sweaty she is and lie there drowning in the thought.

There’s a knock on my door.

“What up boy?” Eric says on the other side.

He’s been away for a week up the coast with his friend learning to surf. It’s a rough reminder of how long it’s been. It must be the weekend. No wonder I smell like cum. God. I can’t let him come in here.

“I’m sick,” I croak from beneath my crusty sheets.

“Spoon of cement brother! Get up, it’s two o’clock.”

“I’ve got covid.”

“I don’t believe you.” He bangs on my door. “La la la la la.” He keeps banging on my door. “Wake up! Wake up!” Eric’s in one of his moods where he’s so happy to be alive that he has to make it my problem.

“Fucking fuck off!”

“I’m coming in Finny boy.” He comes in laughing and is about to say something unrelated but quickly stiffens up. “Bro, okay. Where the fuck is Dan and why does your room smell like that.”

“It’s Liv.”

“Liv?”

“She’s made him her slave,” I say and right as I do the lawnmower roars loudly as it passes by my window.

He confusedly looks at me. “What’d you say?”

I lay back on my bed and the lawnmower is roaring so loudly.

“It’s nothing. What’s up.” I sit up again.

“You wanna go see Dune with me and Casey?”

I tell him no and he hits me back with an argument about how I never leave my room and I tell him I’m just not interested, Timothee Chalamet does nothing for me and Austin Butler turned me off since Elvis which finally gets him to leave me alone. He slams the door shut.

Slowly, I drift back to my perverted mind palace. Listening and imagining Liv pushing the mower outside, she’s probably wearing those brown work boots she wore when she was a labourer and thick cotton socks that bunch up at the top. It’s probably an oven in those boots, those thick threaded socks marinating in the sweat from her size 13’s, they’d be matted flat from her weight. I can already feel sweat seeping across my skin from the sweltering heat as it bleeds into my room, it must be boiling outside. She’d have her hair in a ponytail and short denim shorts and a white tank top stained by sweat. I listen to the mechanical drone for some length of time slowly massaging my dick and relishing in the thought of the stench she’s working up. Being trapped in the tight back pocket of her shorts as her cheeks bunch and tense with each step made, feeling my whole body being pushed to its limit by an ass much larger than I. So claustrophobic trapped by that sun beaten denim against a slab of solid tanned flesh.

When the mower eventually runs quiet it’s replaced by the summer bugs chirping hazily in the air. Since our house is narrow and risen on stilts, I hear through the thin floorboards as Liv passes beneath my room and grunts as she packs the mower away. She lets out a big huff of air and then walks toward the front stairs and I feel the house jolt a little as she takes her first step. She’s so heavy and lackadaisical with throwing around her weight I feel it rattle through my bed as she takes the rest of the stairs up. With one final shaking crash she must’ve flopped onto the couch.

I didn’t realise it but I’d been waiting for this moment and shoot out of bed. I throw on a pair of shorts and walk shirtless outside. My door goes right into the kitchen and the bench overlooks the couches. Liv’s sitting there with her head bent back on the headrest and her big brown work boots kicked onto the low table and there’s dirt and grass shavings stuck in the treads.

“What a stinker,” I say.

Her head snaps up and she doesn’t look happy to see me. “Oh it’s sleeping beauty is it? Really convenient timing fuckhead.”

I stare dumbly. 

“It was your turn this week, you haven’t done it for two months. But surprise surprise. You’re fucking useless.”

“I forgot.”

“Yeah of course you did,” she says. “Just get me a beer Finn.”

“Oh um, where are yours?”

“Second shelf mate, hurry it up.”

God she makes me such a blubbering idiot. I open the fridge and grab two cans of Gold. I walk around the bench and take note of how she’s taking up the whole long side of the L couch with her big arms spread out over the backrest. Her arms are so thick and solid I take a second to glance at them and can’t help compare how much larger they are than my own when she reaches out for the beer.

“Here,” I hand one to her.

She takes it from my hand without thanks and the little can fits snugly in her palm, she cracks it open and takes long, gulping sips. I sit on the short end of the couch and can already smell how the mere presence of her body has started to affect the atmosphere in the room, the windows aren’t cracked a smidge. It’s humid and smells of freshly cut grass mixed with earth and hard-earned sweat. I’m hard as a rock as I crack my own and take a measured sip.

“Are you right?” She says.

“Me? Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Why are you still here?”

“I thought maybe, we could watch Succession.”

She scoffs. “Oh yeah. Sounds like a great idea.” She doesn’t think that’s true.

I sit back a little awkwardly into the couch. Not really knowing what to say. I’m so bad at this. God she smells good.

She sighs and crunches the can in her hand, already finished. “Get me another one.”

There’s not much I can do aside from oblige and start to wait on her as she scrolls her phone and drinks one beer after the other, she calls me little man. Each time I return I sit patiently on the short end of the couch while she lounges before me, her work boots still laced up and she’s bobbing one foot up and down. I need to be there when she takes them off. That urge builds in me until I have the courage to speak.

“Liv. I, uh. Are you comfortable?”

She stops scrolling and gives me a look. “What do you want?”

It seems ridiculous because I feel like it’s pretty obvious what I want.

“I can’t do anything for you,” she says to my absent speech.

“Maybe I could make you more comfortable?”

She starts laughing at me, not in a fun way like laughing with me. No it started as a scoff then a chuckle and now she’s laughing, she’s laughing at me. The thought of me. She slaps her thigh and her skin ripples behind the sheer mass. “Oh you’re so generous. Such a little gentleman.” She reaches over and pinches my cheek tightly like she’s mad at me then bangs her heel on the table twice. “Well then, up you get sport. Don’t keep me waiting.”

“Sorry?”

“I told you to do something so do it.” She goes back to her phone, trying not to laugh.

I stand up and decide to follow the bait ridden hook dangling before me. I walk around the low table so I’m facing her and kneel down. The bottoms of her work boots face me, if I crouch even lower they’d totally obscure my view of Liv. The treads are enormous, the width of my hand.

“Is this what you mean?”

“You’re on thin ice pipsqueak.”

“Gotcha,” I say but I’m shaking as my hands go to start undoing her laces and it smells so thickly of fresh grass shavings. I have to tug to get the double knot done and I snap away from a sheepish glance when I catch her narrowed but curious eyes staring at me over her phone. I pull one knot loose and then the other and I scoop my hand under the heel and begin to tug on the heavy boot. She lets out a quiet snicker and my cheeks burn red. As it slowly starts to come off I can feel the heat radiating from her socked foot. The muggy scent that slowly starts to ooze out. I pull the boot over her heel and my eyes roll back as I’m hit with the concentrated humidity. It smells like the end of a three-hour hike, like a busy locker room after a gruelling game, like walking home in clothes too hot for the weather, like a seat after a long flight, like the wet and musky underside of thick socks that’ve marinated for hours while she worked on the lawn in the beating hot sun. I breathe deeply. Living in the viscous stench swimming all around.

Something heavy bops my head. I open my eyes and she’s tapping my forehead with her other boot, the thick rubber tread bops me again. “No slacking mister.”

I quickly yank the other one off and sit down further on my heels as I let both of her matted socks take up my whole vision. Each toe prominently pronounced even through the thick cotton, they spread and scrunch the fabric chewing on the cotton and spreading foot funk in the air. I lean a little closer and eye the details of her sock in how some of the threads look fused together and worn after many years of use and toil beneath her colossal weight. The balls of her feet are so broad they span my face and I get so close my nose is practically touching them, sweat breaks on my forehead.

“Can I touch them?” I say.

She doesn’t reply for a few seconds so I pull back to see her expression. She’s shaking her head but she’s smiling.

“So you want to be smaller, right? Is that it? Tiny like a little mouse? Like a teensy, tiny man? Scurrying on the floor, avoiding all us big people doing our big things, hm?” She scrunches her big toes.

“I would do anything,” I say.

“Aw, that’s tough, weally tough. Because, the thing is, I can’t help you even if I wanted to.”

“I’m begging you Liv, please.”

“But Finny, that’s the problem! There’s just not much further down for you to go is all.”

“W-what do you mean?”

“I mean, look at you. I didn’t even tell you to go to my feet and yet look at you. You’re sniffing them like a fucking addict. I can literally smell how gross they are from here, but you don’t mind in the slightest, do you? No you practically jumped at the chance to get my boots off. I can’t make you any smaller because you’re already as small as you need to be. You’re already at the bottom of the food chain bud.”

“But you, you moved your foot,” I say.

“Look, I could squeeze a few centimetres out sure, but don’t you think that’s a little cruel?”

All this while I’m still huffing on this intense scent wafting from her feet it’s making me dizzy. I just want to get back to them. I’m not processing anything she’s saying. I dive back to them and push my cheek against the ball of her foot and I sink into it’s plush, her socks are swollen with her stink and I push my nose to it so it’s going straight to my brain. I start kissing, sticking my tongue against the wet cotton and chewing the sweat out of the fabric, moaning when the salty tang touches my throat.

“Wow.” I hear her mutter and then the powerful vice of her feet grip either side of my head. Her big toes drum my ears flat and she makes me face her, my nose buried in the crevice of her soles. She rolls my head back and forth a bit and I have no choice but to let the rest of my body follow as she manhandles me with those feet of hers. “It’s a little hot I’ll admit, but you’re mostly disgusting. You have the charm of like a, I don’t know, a sewer rat.”

My lips are squished in a pout like a fish as her powerful soles play with my cheeks. “Please make me smaller,” I manage.

“I can’t.” She rolls my head left and my puckered lips kiss deeply into her sole and it’s no longer just a smell but a taste. “I told you.” She rolls me the other way and I taste the bottom of her foot again. “But maybe, we can do more with just a little.”

She separates her feet and I fall to the ground in a heap and cum right there in my pants as Eric and Casey walk in.