Judy Stevens crossed her arms and began to tap her right foot on the ground, her tall heel creating a menacing clacking noise in rhythm against the wood floor.  Her look of surprise and confusion was slowly shifting into one of frustration.  Anger, even.  She stared around the living room, which was still lined with empty cans, a few loose streamers, dirty plates, and even a few lost hats.  The moment she had stepped into the house to find it swarming with her son’s partying friends and bellowed at the top of her lungs for all of them to clear out, a fire had been ignited in her eyes and it was growing quickly. 

                This was the final straw.

                “Look, Mom, we were just having some fun, okay?  I can still get all my work done tomorrow, and-” began Scott Stevens in protest, his forehead beginning to sweat a bit.

                “That’s not what I’m concerned about, Scott,” Judy answered, a little more coldness and uniformity in her voice.  “What I’m concerned about is that you disobeyed me.  Again.”

                “I know!  And… and I’m sorry about that, Mom, but… but…” stuttered Scott, hearing the shift in her voice very plainly and getting seriously nervous.

                “Our house rules aren’t hard to follow.  I let you go out with your friends every weekend, go on trips with them during school vacations, see movies and go out to dinner late at night… and ALL I ask is that you listen to me when I tell you it’s not an appropriate time for a party, when I’m not around…”

                “Mom, look I’m sorry, okay, but I’m eighteen, I…”

                “Your brother and sister aren’t, are they?” snapped Judy, raising a hand in exasperation.  Scott looked toward the upstairs railing and at the closed bedroom doors, where his middle school aged siblings were waiting out their mother’s stormy mood.

                “N-N-No… and, I’m sorry, really…”

                “What if someone had brought drinks, or drugs, and one of them had used them and gotten hurt?  What then?”

                “I d-don’t…”

                “No, you did know.  You just didn’t think first, Scott,” said Judy, taking a step closer to her son, brushing a strawberry blonde bang out of her eyes so she could glare at him more effectively.  “You are…” she began.

                “Grounded?” asked Scott almost hopefully, pleading with the fates for this to be his punishment rather than the alternative.

“No,” she said finally, causing Scott’s heart to almost stop in his chest.  “No matter how many times I ground you, it never works.  It never sticks.  You never learn from your mistakes.”

“I do! I do!  Really, Mom, I… I…” gasped Scott, getting desperate.

“Scott, baby… chill out!” said Ella, Scott’s girlfriend who had stayed behind for support, stepping forward and wrapping an arm around Scott’s shoulder.  “You’re just in trouble, you’re not about to get a lethal injection or something…”

“Ella, p-please…” whispered Scott, realizing how this situation was going to play out.  “You should probably go now, I...”

“Don’t be rude, Scott,” said Judy, who was already rooting through her purse loudly.  “Let Ella stay awhile longer.”

“What’s the matter with you?” asked Ella, becoming more concerned with Scott’s terrified reaction to this.  “Why are you…”

“Ella, I don’t w-want you to s-see…” whispered Scott.

“Ella, do you want to stay?” asked Judy sweetly.  “Because I’d love to have you here.  Scott would, too.”

“Yes, of course I’d like to, but…” continued Ella, getting more and more confused.

“Ella…” said Scott through gritted teeth.

“Be quiet, Scott,” said Judy.  “Or it’ll be twice as long this time.”

Scott dashed forward to his mother, his eyes pleading desperately, grasping her shoulders roughly.  “Mom… please…”

“I’ve given you plenty of chances, Scott.”

“Mom…” he gasped, his eyes beginning to tear up with stress.  “Don’t do this to me again…” he whispered in the lowest voice possible.

“I’m sorry, sweetie,” she said, at length removing a long silver object about the size of a flashlight from her purse, which she began fidgeting with on a variety of metallic dials.  “But Mommy’s not in the mood for it right now.  Now, just hold still for me…”

“N-N-No…” wept Scott, defeated, already beginning to accept that it was going to happen.  He sunk to his knees, his face level with his mother’s waist, and allowed the tears to stream down his face, careful to keep his back to his girlfriend, who was looking on with curious and shocked eyes.

With a smile of satisfaction spread over her plush red lips, Judy placed one hand on her full hips, placing most of the weight on one foot, and pointed the device at her cowering son, holding down a small lever at she looked at his pitifully cowering form, on his knees before her.  As if begging.

“Just sit tight,” whispered Judy in a more soothing voice, her thumb pressing firmly on a separate button on the device while holding the lever.  “This will be so much easier if you cooperate with me.”

The effect was immediate.  A blinding flash of green light exploded from the end of the device.  Scott screeched loudly, but was cut off.  Ella, so surprised by the effect, blinked; the instant she opened her eyes, though, it was over.  Everything was back to normal. 

That is, except for what stood before Judy on the floor. 

Scott’s clothes lay crumpled on the ground, without the teen boy himself in them anymore.

Ella’s jaw dropped, her eyes widening in blank terror.  She wanted to scream but couldn’t make a sound.  She was frozen.

Judy raised a hand, extending it toward her son’s girlfriend.  “Now… Ella, don’t be afraid.  It’s not what you think.”

“Y-Y-You k-k-k…” stuttered Ella in such a quiet voice it was barely audible, clasping her hands over her mouth, a few beads of sweat trickling down her forehead.  The scene before her was so surreal that she couldn’t even process it fully.

“No, honey, Scott’s not dead.  He’s fine.  He’s just…”

“Just WHAT?” screeched Ella, finally beginning to get her panicked bearings in order.

“Smaller,” stated Judy simply and softly, trying to ease the blow.  Ella frowned, cocking her head slightly at her boyfriend’s mother.  She couldn’t understand what had just been said.  Judy nodded reassuringly to her, knowing she would probably require proof.  Leaning over slowly, Judy plucked up Scott’s red t-shirt between her thumb and forefinger, flinging it off to the side, leaving only a pair of jeans and underwear laying there.  Poking at the folds of fabric, she sighed with relief.  “THERE you are…” she said happily, reaching her hand under a fold of the jeans.  “Thought I’d lost you there for a moment, sweetie,” she giggled.

Ella’s eyes boggled out of their sockets, and she rubbed at them with her slender fingers before blinking and taking another look.  But the sight was the same.  Judy was rising slowly to a full standing position again, her pointer finger and thumb clasped firmly around something small, peach-colored, and squirming.  It looked like it couldn’t have been more than an inch and a half long, if that, and from this distance, Ella couldn’t be sure.

And yet somehow she knew what it was, without even having to accept it fully in her mind.  Ella stared harder, watching the tiny little figure’s limbs flailing around wildly, a small patch of brown fuzz on top of its head whipping ever so slightly as Judy raised it in her thick fingertips up to chest level and gently deposited it into the wide, soft palm of her other hand.

Judy held her hand open, palm up, and stared down into the creased center.  Ella watched her gray eyes staring down, glistening.  She could see a great deal of love and compassion in them, and yet there was something else.  A raging glow in her pupils.  Hunger.  Desire for control.  A need for it, not just a want.  It sent a shiver down Ella’s spine.

“Ella, honey?” said Judy at length, looking back up.  “You can come over here.  It’s okay.  Come and see.”

“Mrs. S-S-Stevens…” stuttered Ella.  “P-Please…”

“There’s no need to be scared, honey.  I promise.  Just come here,” said Judy with a soft smile, her eyes practically sparkling.  “This is nothing new, trust me.  You just have to get used to it.”

“Get used to… to…” gasped Ella, walking closer to her boyfriend’s mother and coming to a standstill, her jaw dropping again.  In the center of Judy’s palm was Scott, completely naked, rolled up in a ball, his legs pressed to his chest and grasped in place by his arms.  He was so small that Ella could barely make out his expression, but she heard him cry out in shame and agony when her no-doubt billboard-sized face came into view.

“MOM!  STOP!” screamed Scott, bursting into tears with sheer embarrassment.  “Oh, God, no, no, no…”

“Shhhh… sweetie, sweetie…” repeated Judy softly, bringing her face down closer to her tiny, naked son’s body still sitting directly in the center of her wide, fleshy palm.  “You have GOT to get over this embarrassment thing, or you’re going to have a very difficult time in life, believe me.”

“MOM!  NO!  PLEASE…” yelled Scott upward to make sure he was heard, but he was silenced by the pointer finger of Judy’s other hand descending on him, her wide fingertip covering most of his face for an instant.

“Scott, you don’t have to get upset.  I changed you when you were a baby, remember?  I know what all of you looks like already,” continued Judy softly, removing her tear-soaked fingertip from her son’s face, which was by now streaked with wetness.  “He always gets like this when I have to do this to him, honey,” said Judy, looking back up at Ella’s still-frozen face.  “Don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine.”

“What’s going to happen to him now?” swallowed Ella, regaining some color in her face as the concept she was witnessing slowly but surely sunk in.

A sly smile crossed Judy’s lips.  “He’s going to time-out, of course.”

“Time… out?” asked Ella, confused.

“Thought it was just for little kids, huh?” said Judy with a wink.  “Nope.  I realized a long, long time ago that disciplining your children properly has to extend well beyond when they’re small enough for you to physically carry to their bedroom for a timeout.  He breaks bigger rules, I have to find bigger ways to remind him of his boundaries.  And…” chuckled Judy.  “…obviously that means I have to get a little creative.”

“MOM!  PLEASE, I’M SO, SO SORRY!” screamed Scott in another bid for release, still balled up to avoid being fully seen in his nude state by either his mother or girlfriend.

“Hush, sweetie,” said Judy curtly, her fingers slowly closing over her wide palm, casting a shadow over her son’s naked body.  “The women are talking right now.”  An instant later, Scott’s screaming fetal position form was trapped in a prison of flesh inside his mother’s warm, steadily perspiring hand.  Judy gave an extra little fist pump to squeeze her son reassuringly, then kissed the edge of her fingers gently, knowing he’d hear the sound.  “Sit tight, sweetie…” she whispered lovingly.

“Mrs. Stevens…” continued Ella finally, regaining a regular breathing pattern.  “I d-don’t feel like I should be here, this is none of my business…”

“Nonsense, honey, of course it’s your business.  You love my son, don’t you?”

“I… what? I mean… yes!  Yes, of course I do.”

“And he loves you back.  I know he does.  Which is why having you here is going to make this punishment stick all the better.”

“Why?”

Judy lowered her voice, and moved her face in closer to her son’s girlfriend’s ear.  “Because he will never want you to see this ever again.”

Ella gulped hard.

Taking a few steps over to the couch, Judy took a hard seat, then opened her hand again.  Scott rolled around for a moment, dazed and disoriented, before finding himself residing in the center of his mother’s palm again, shivering from the terrifying darkness of a moment before.

“Come join me, honey,” said Judy, patting the couch cushion next to hers.  “Come take a front row seat.”

“No… goddamn it, no, no, no…” repeated Scott mindlessly, staring up at the impossibly titanic form of his restrictive mother’s torso, which filled his entire field of vision like a softened, feminine spire of Mount Rushmore.  This process was always reason enough for dread.  But it had always been in the privacy of the house, with no one else around.  Now, he was about to be humiliated to within an inch of his life in front of the girl he loved.  And to top it all off, he had to look up at her beautiful, mountainous form and somehow find a way to hide his embarrassment.  His skin crawled to stare up Ella’s swimming, wide blue eyes and gargantuan pursed lips, her glowing blond hair falling innocently over her shoulders like mile-long ropes of silk.  It was so surreal having to see her like this and, admittedly, painful; the very thought of having his girlfriend witness this particular aspect of his private family life was something he reserved for his worst nightmares.  And it was coming true right now.  It was enough to make Scott want to throw up, and yet he couldn’t, so frozen was he in the moment of pure, stubborn disbelief in reality.

Cautiously, Ella stepped over to the couch and took a seat, careful to not slam down too hard for fear of jostling Mrs. Stevens and subsequently, her inch-tall boyfriend.  It was almost more than Ella could bear, and for the moment all she could do was watch, her jaw hanging open slightly.

Calmly, Judy reached down toward her ankles with her other hand, slipping her fingers into the back of her leather heels.  With a quick lift and pop, her wide, dry heel came loose from the shoe and her foot slipped out.  Sighing deeply, Judy pressed her plump bare foot against the cool hardwood floor, splaying her toes, which were painted purple, against the ground.  Mrs. Stevens had always had large feet, and while they weren’t fat, having three children over the years had caused them to become slightly more bulbous and wide.  Readjusting to having her foot out in the cool air rather than the muggy environment of her leather heel, Judy rubbed the ball of her foot against the floor a few times, creating a distinct squeaking sound.  As if sending a warning bell to her tiny son, still perched helplessly in her hand.

Satisfied, Judy grasped her abandoned shoe with her free hand and brought it up higher, setting it calmly on her lap, a mere few inches below her other hand.  Scott heard the sound of the shoe clopping on the fabric of her skirt in the valley between her legs as she set it down, and proceeded to peer slowly over the side of his mother’s hand for a better view.  He didn’t want to see it, and yet he had to.  He was running out of time.

“Careful, sweetie,” said Judy, seeing her son’s adventurous motion to the edge of her hand.  She instantly cupped her fingers up, causing Scott to roll helplessly back into the center of her warm palm.  “Don’t want you slipping out of my hand, do we?”

“MOM!” screeched Scott, his throat going dry with fear and exasperation.  “This can’t happen NOW!  It… It just CAN’T!”

“And why is that?” asked Judy condescendingly, pursing her lips into a soft smile.

“I’m EIGHTEEN, MOM!  Oh… oh my God, this is… t-this… and ELLA, oh my… oh my GOD.”

“Hush now,” commanded Judy softly and authoritatively down to her inch-tall boy.  “You may be eighteen, but to me, you’ll always be my little baby.  And you may not be a… real baby… anymore, but lucky for me,” she said, smirking slyly.  “I can still make you little again.”

Scott knew by this point his options were all but expended.  The tears flowing freely now, he buried his face in his hands, trying to choke back the sobs.  For the instant, all he could do now was wait and try not to die a horrible, horrible death of embarrassment.

“Now hold still and let mommy do what she has to do, sweetie,” cooed Judy, trying to soothe her son’s tears.  “Ten minutes.  That’s all, and then you can come out.”

“Out of where?” blurted Ella, finding the strength to speak again.

Judy grinned widely, showing off her stunningly white teeth.  “Watch, honey.”  Lowering her cupped, palm-up hand toward the empty heel, Judy tipped her fingers downward, tapping them against the inside of the shoe.  The fabric was wearing away into frizzy sprigs of fur inside, but the large, white printed number 12 indicating the size of the shoe was still easily visible.  With a final tap of her fingers, Judy tipped her entire hand at an angle.  Yelping with shock, Scott went tumbling down the long, fleshy slope of his mother’s flattened hand before slamming hard into the fuzzy base of the heel.  Rolling head over heels, Scott continued down the angled decline of the two-inch heel’s instep, crashing headlong into the dark, pointed leather toe at the end.

Righting himself, Scott gasped and coughed from the effort to stay focused.  Inhaling deeply, the sour, leathery scent of his mother’s aging shoe fogged thickly around his face.  He covered his mouth, but it didn’t do much to fight off the wafting aroma as he began coughing from the salty stench.  Grasping desperately at the helter-skelter fuzz coating the instep of the shoe, Scott began clawing his way back up the slope toward the higher vantage point of the heel.  It was difficult to get a grip, and with a disgusted shiver Scott realized it was because much of the fur was greasy and damp with sweat from Judy’s sole, as she had been wearing the heels around all day at work and was often required to spend a great deal of her time actually walking around the building in them.

Judy watched her tiny son fighting his way up the steep hill of her nauseously scented and over-worn heel’s instep, smiling calmly and almost proudly, while Ella looked on, wide-eyed and gape-mouthed, from the couch, still unable to react fully to the unbelievable sight unfolding before her.  Just as Scott reached the heel of the shoe and raised a fist in protest against what was happening to him, Judy, with a giggle, tilted the shoe back downward, toe end toward the ground.  With insufficient friction to stay up, Scott’s face was slammed hard against the base of the shoe as he slipped quickly downward into the darkness of the narrower toe section yet again.  He could feel the oily lubricant of his mother’s salty residue coating the slicked, furry surface of the heel’s instep, and it made him want to vomit as it was thoroughly slathered on his unfortunate and nearly bruised face.  He shivered to consider just how little his mother seemed to care that he was essentially bathing in her own disgusting, leather-filtered sudor.

The tip downward of the shoe was followed almost instantly by a loss of gravity for Scott as the heel plummeted back for the floor, clacking hard against the wood.  It was such a familiar and terrifying sound to him, except now it was much louder and all around him, even coming through the thick padding of the expensive leather.  Jostled a final time against the side of the shoe, Scott crawled forward on his hands and knees, unwilling to pull himself up again.  He was on the floor, in his mother’s heel.  Any resistance at this point was 100% moot.  He closed his eyes and clenched his fists.

“You see, honey,” said Judy soothingly, using as explanatory a voice as she could to calm the nerves of the terrified teen girl next to her.  “Men are all alike.  Some of them may act all high and mighty, telling you what to do, putting people down, disobeying simple instructions just because they feel like it.  But at the end of the day, if you have a good way to remind them of their place, they’ll always listen.  And they will remember it,” whispered Judy with satisfaction. 

Gingerly lifting her plump, pale foot from the ground, creating a soft suction pop as she removed it from the hardwood, she held it just above the mouth of the empty heel, wriggling her long, thick toes triumphantly.  For a few moments, Judy made a showy spectacle for her son to further stew in his horror and degradation: her pale sole wrinkled threateningly, her cream-colored skin glistening in the light bounced off of it from the room's lamp, the dry scuffs of peeling skin on her heel looking almost battle-hardened.  Her rotund, juicy toes, most of which were about the size of Scott's entire body, wriggling violently as if preparing to pounce on helpless prey and devour it. 

Feeling his heartrate quicken, Scott swallowed hard and felt another hot tear roll down his cheek.

Judy pointed a bright purple-painted big toe as if preparing for a swan dive, and promptly dropped it down, sliding it into the heel smoothly and forcefully.

Within seconds, Scott was being pile-driven against the pointed tip of the shoe by a rushing mass of thick, meaty, rough toe flesh.  His mother’s arched big toe was all that was required to send him slamming face-first against the damp interior of the leather heel.  Wasting no time, Judy got to work, jamming her toes directly over her son’s cowering body and squishing downward with just enough pressure to keep him firmly in place rather than inflict permanent damage on his fragile body.  At so small a size, it wouldn’t take much on her part to break bones or pop vital organs, but it was all right.  Judy was well practiced at this method of disciplining her son and had it down to a science.  Although not quite literally, her now one inch-tall teenage boy, always so pious and rebellious, was as putty in her hands.  She was the artist, and it was her job to mold her son into something a little more upstanding than he was now.  It was simply a matter of how much resistance he put up.

Scott tried with all his might to push up against the squishy mass of his mother’s powerful digit, but he knew very quickly (and from past experience) that this was an exercise in futility.  He wasn’t going anywhere, and this fact was just as plain to him as it was to his domineering parental figure.  And yet he still had his pride.  His conscience refused to let him simply give up.  Pushing upward with all his strength against the grooved, sweat-slimed skin that was bearing down on him like a sumo wrestler, Scott succeeded only in getting his mother’s attention.

Feeling her son’s attempt at escape, Judy brushed a strawberry blonde lock out of her eyes and sighed deeply before squeezing her big toe onto Scott’s vulnerable body, clamping her son’s arms into a thick toe crevice and gripping him even more tightly against her flesh.  Scott’s face was jammed oppressively into the skin, with no possibility of oxygen becoming available in this position.  He gasped for air, and instead found his teeth accidentally biting onto the firm, unforgiving flesh of his mother’s big toe.  His teeth being so small and brittle compared with the overpoweringly thick skin of his mother’s dry foot, he only succeeded in hurting his jaw.  He lapped his tongue against his lips instinctively, and was treated only to a horrifying lick along the toeprinted grooves and wrinkles of the plump, peachy toe.  The flavor was so stale and greasy at the same time, tasting of old leather, worn down fabric, and sour, unwashed flesh.  Gagging painfully at this, Scott thanked his lucky stars that Ella at least couldn’t see what, precisely, was going on inside his mother’s shoe at this moment.  His breathing becoming more and more labored; Scott practically wanted to choke as the hot, muggy air made getting clean oxygen into his lungs an impossible task.  For all intents and purpose, he was inhaling the leathery sweat mist emanating ever so slightly from between his mother’s writhing, filthy toes.

“H-How is… how is he… I-I-I m-mean, how…” stuttered Ella to Judy, unable to take her eyes off the floor, staring at her boyfriend’s mother’s heel was wriggling around, up and down, as Judy’s foot wrestled the miniscule naked boy inside of it.  Ella gulped hard, spectating on the fascinating muscle movements.  The arch of Judy’s heel bending downward as she scrunched her toes together harder, then the softening of the skin again as she raised them back up against the toe section of the leather, her big toe poking against the material of the shoe as if it was about to burst out from inside.

“How is he doing?” asked Judy pleasantly, continuing on with what she was doing.  Raising her leg up in the air and leaving her foot suspended in midair for a moment, Judy stomped down hard onto the wood floor, sending a deafening clack through the relatively quiet room.  Ella flinched at the sound, then nodded slowly, gulping again.  “He’s doing just fine, honey, really,” answered Judy sweetly.

“How do you k-know?”

“Ohhh, you adorable thing… you’re so sweet,” said Judy jokingly, rubbing her son’s girlfriend’s arm playfully.  “How do you think?  I can still feel him moving around down there, that’s how I know.”

The chill ran back down Ella’s spine at these words, at yet it was different than before.  The fear was slowly draining away and being replaced by something else.  The cold sensation under her skin was staying, and yet Ella felt no apprehension or nervousness anymore.  She furrowed her eyebrows, narrowing her large blue eyes down at the floor, and bit her lip softly.  Thinking.  What was it?  What was it that was rushing through her head right now and causing her fear, even outright objection, with the situation to fade?

Finally, Ella spoke up again.  She knew what she wanted to say.  It was clear as day inside her mind, and yet it made little sense to her.  It was no matter: she knew she had to ask it.  She cleared her throat, stroking her lips gently with her fingertips as if to confirm that the words really were coming out of her own mouth.  “Mrs. Stevens?”

“Yes, honey?”

“What does it… feel like?”

“What does what feel like, hun?” asked Judy innocently, crossing one of her legs, hoisting the foot containing the shoe with her son inside up into the air.  Thoughtfully, she began rotating her ankle, still continuing to grip her big toe possessively over her little son’s naked body inside the leather heel.  With a little giggle, she felt the almost-embarrassing-but-not-quite sensation of his microscopic dick being swallowed up by a dry, sweat-greased toe wrinkle.  It was difficult to tell, but Judy had done this often enough to discipline her son that she was able to tell with pinpoint accuracy how each movement of her muscles would impact Scott’s precarious wellbeing.  At this moment, she was using her second toe to pin his legs down flat against the slimy, flattened fur of the shoe bottom, and was using her big toe to threateningly brush against his exposed lower body.  There was no harm in scaring him a little, thought Judy with a sly smile to herself as she felt his impossibly puny genitals, barely able to be felt, being stroked against her juicy, grooved toe flesh.

“Scott,” answered Ella calmly, her breathing staying at a heightened pace without impeding her speech.  What is going on with me, thought Ella curiously at the odd reaction she was experiencing.  “What does it… feel like… with…”

Judy’s eyes glowed brightly all of a sudden, and her smile widened victoriously, showing off her glistening pearly whites to the teen girl.  Slowly, the mother licked her front teeth with a muscular, slick tongue before closing her plush lips and grinning again.  Ella saw the same enflamed desire returning to Judy’s eyes that she had seen earlier.  She recognized it.

However, just as Judy’s lips opened again to answer, the fire from her eyes vanished again, as if she had reverted back to her normal self after a brief, unusual flash of personality.  “A little funny.  Like having a large insect crawling around on you.  Sometimes I almost forget that he’s not one, because my mind wants me to jerk away, but I have to remind myself to stay still.  It… tickles,” said Judy at length.  “I suppose I don’t think about it much.”

Somehow, Ella found this last statement very hard to believe.  In fact, she believed that Judy thought about the feeling very often.  It was that glow in her eyes.  It betrayed her words completely.

“Oh…” said Ella as she chewed over this realization.

“Like I’ve said, honey,” continued Judy, looking back at her child-occupied shoe for the first time in a few minutes.  “I only do this for my son’s benefit.  I’ve always wanted my children to grow up to be kind, humble, respectful, honest people, and I know that Scott is well on the way there.  He’s just a little immature, is all, and that’s where this becomes necessary,” cooed Judy, tapping the edge of her leather heel with an extended pointer finger.  “He most certainly doesn’t appreciate it now, but he will someday, I’m sure of it.”

Somehow, Ella had very serious doubts about this.  Come to think of it, what she was witnessing was the most absurd kind of child abuse she had ever heard of.  Far stranger than anything she had seen on any crime shows on TV.  Stranger than textbooks detailing true events.  Stranger than most fictional stories she had read, for that matter.  What was happening was just plain alien to Ella, but she knew one thing: it was wrong at so many levels she couldn’t even fathom them all.

And yet the feeling continued.  What was the feeling?  It tickled Ella’s fingertips like ice, and her vision seemed slightly blurrier than it had minutes before.  Her ears seemed to be perceiving a low humming sound.  The tip of her tongue tingled inside her mouth, as if she had cinnamon sprinkled onto it.  Whatever was going on was making Ella feel different than she ever had before.  Not just different.  Better.  She felt great.  Awake.

“Ella, honey,” began Judy, speaking up again.  Her soft, motherly voice came out of nowhere, causing Ella to jump in her seat a little.

“Yes, Mrs. Stevens?”

“Would you like to try it?” asked Judy sweetly, raising an eyebrow and smirking playfully.

Ella felt her heart catch inside of her chest.  Her hands trembled, her palms sweating, her lips quivering slightly.  Her nostrils flared as the words from Mrs. Stevens ricocheted around the recesses of her brain.  The feeling was amplifying, and it was driving her crazy.  And suddenly, as Ella felt the back of her throat almost catching on fire as she breathed out warmly and deeply, she knew there was only one correct answer.  Gently, Ella parted her lips and spoke in a low, vibrating, almost hungry voice that surprised even herself.

“Yes.”

Judy’s lips curled into a devilishly satisfied grin that she couldn’t possibly hide, and she chuckled, beyond amused, her eyes locked unblinkingly with Ella’s.  The teen girl, so nervous and even scared for her shrunken boyfriend and the whole situation a matter of minutes ago, held an expression of stoicism.  Her blue eyes were frozen, cloudless.  Her breathing slowed down and focused.  Her lips pursed more tightly together as she waited.  Judy squinted slightly, and giggled a final time.  She recognized that face.  It had been years since she had seen it on a face so youthful, but she knew it as well as the back of her own hand.

Judy looked at her son’s girlfriend’s face and saw the same expression she herself had worn in her own teenage years.  Wonderment.  Focus.  Desire.  Power-hunger.  She remembered looking at herself in a mirror when she got into a mood like this one.  All of it was there, plastered into the beautiful, deceptively innocent face of Ella.  Judy could hardly contain her joy to see it in another person.  In that moment, Judy knew without a shadow of a doubt that Ella understood exactly why she had chosen to punish Scott in this way.  And she knew that to deny Ella the experience of satisfying that hunger would be criminal.  After all, Judy knew the feeling well, and knew it was unpleasant for herself and those around her to be denied what she wanted when she got like this.

“Okay, then,” whispered Judy, breaking the momentary silence.  Clacking her right foot’s heel against the hardwood, she slipped her fingers into the back of the shoe and tugged, releasing her heel from the leathery prison.

Scott, who had spent the last several minutes simultaneously weeping and flinching as his mother’s monumental big toe brushed callously over his painfully exposed genitals, suddenly felt a shift in his mother’s foot, rippling down to him through vibrations in the matted fabric interior of the heel.  Could it be?  His punishment was ending earlier than his mother had ordained?  Surely it hadn’t been ten minutes already.  To Scott, each minute spent naked, helpless, and vulnerable to a sponge bath of grimy foot sweat, all the while being engaged in a wrestling contest with a foe he couldn’t beat (his mother’s muscular, purple-nail-glossed toe) felt like an hour, at best.  Time dragged on so slowly he could hardly bear to spend ten minutes of agonizing, smelly, bruising, humiliating time-out in his mother’s heel.  On several occasions it had nearly caused him to have a breakdown, particularly when Judy got to talking on the phone while she still had him in her heel and forgot to remove him.

With a shiver, Scott recalled one occasion listening to his mother gab and laugh wildly on the phone with one of her good friends while he remained firmly under slimy toe in his leather hell for an entire hour.  Sixty minutes of having his entire body grasped roughly by his mother’s long, thick, beefy big toe.  Three thousand, six hundred seconds.  Afterward, when his mother had returned him to normal size and apologized profusely for her mistake, Scott had run to the bathroom and sat in the shower for two hours crying to himself, partly to have some time alone and partly to try and wash the everlasting, pungent scent of his mother’s repulsive feet off of his body.

Scott stared upward, and finally felt all pressure relieved from his bruised body as his mother’s toe at long last relented from its terrorizing squeezing session, straightening itself and sliding one final time over his entire exposed body before slipping back up the fabric slope of the shoe’s instep as Judy pulled her wide, plump foot from the heel.  He gasped, then sighed, gratified that the worst of this little event was now over.  He had no idea how he was going to explain this apocalyptically embarrassing family secret to Ella once they were alone again, but for the time being at least, she wouldn’t have to directly bear witness to his emotional deflowering inside his mother’s gargantuan shoe.

Light streamed back into the dark, smelly hovel of the heel once again before Scott felt gravity shifting all around him again.  Clearly, he was being lifted up into her lap again to be removed.  While he didn’t look forward to coming out of the shoe and being on full display for his currently skyscraper-sized girlfriend again, he could at least rest easy in the knowledge that his punishment was over at last.  Squinting upward as the shoe was laid to rest comfortably in the folds of fabric on top of Judy’s skirt, he saw the massive torso of his mother rising upward like the side of a mountain, culminating with her head so far up into the sky it almost seemed unreal to the inch-tall boy.  Slowly, he saw her lips moving, although he was unable to make out what she was saying.

“All right, honey,” whispered Judy in a low voice, leaning over toward Ella and grinning.  “Ready?”

Solemnly, Ella nodded to her boyfriend’s mom.  “Yes, Mrs. Stevens.  Um… what...”

“Something wrong?”

“How do I… I mean, I don’t want to hurt…”

Judy nodded, smiling warmly.  “That’s sweet of you to care so much.  But I know you’re a careful girl, Ella.  You won’t hurt him.  Just move slowly and you’ll do fine.  Now… go ahead,” she whispered with more intensity.  “Take him.”

Wordlessly, Ella slowly extended her hand toward the shoe in Judy’s lap; she could hardly wait any longer.  Her slender fingers quivering as she slid the tips of them along the leather, she gripped it harder and picked it up from Judy’s skirt.  The shoe was so light and seemed so normal to Ella, and yet she knew that if she were to suddenly release her fingers at this moment and allow the shoe to fall to the ground, the life of her boyfriend could very easily be ended, or at least endangered.  Her palms began to sweat and her fingers quivered harder, but her grip remained firm.

Ella felt her head swimming.  She thought she would be afraid when it came time for this.  Afraid for Scott’s safety, their relationship, and even her own sanity. 

But she wasn’t.  All she felt in this moment was curiosity and pure, beautiful desire.  Nothing more.

Lowering the shoe toward the ground, Ella stared down at her own peachy bare foot pressed against the hardwood floor.  She wiggled her perfectly clean and unpainted toes, curling each one in turn, cracking them at the joints with a soft pop.  She rolled the ball of her foot along the shiny surface of the floor a few times, tapping her tender heel against the ground.  She was ready for this. 

Pushing gently off of the ground with her dexterous toes, Ella shifted her weight from one leg to the other, preparing to dive in just as Judy had.  At this moment, Ella resolved not to think too deeply about the actual process of putting the heel on.  She simply had to slip it on as if it was any other shoe, as if she were about to go to a party in a fine leather heel.  As if her boyfriend was NOT cowering in terror at the base of it, about to be buried alive by her toes.  About to be filled with doubt and anxiety as he came to realize that the person he most loved in the world wasn’t above a little adventurous escapade at his total expense.

“I’m sorry, Scott,” whispered Ella under her breath at no one in particular.  “But… I have to.”  And she meant it.  Pointing her toes together and arching her entire foot, Ella dipped her foot directly into the leather heel, sliding her sole along the worn instep and allowing her toes to reach the tip of the shoe instantly.

Scott found himself unprepared, mentally and physically, as yet another wave of soft, fleshy lower appendage digits struck him so hard that he was pinned utterly helplessly between a wall of hard, sweat-dried shoe fuzz and unforgiving, muscular skin, rounded into tips and wiggling gently against his body with no remorse or apprehension.

“DAMN it, Mom!” screamed Scott lividly, although he knew his cries were far too quiet to be heard from this deepest corner of the heel and at his size.  He felt the colossal toes wriggling, getting to work instantly, pinning his arms and legs into uncomfortable positions, forcing him crowd himself as close as possible in a pencil-dive shape to avoid having something twisted.  He felt the warmth radiating off of the skin and into his body before having his genitals mind-numbingly slapped by a hard flick from the big toe, which began tapping rhythmically down on his body as if to the beat of music.  However, just before mentally confining himself to another inevitable ten minutes of torture, he noticed something else.  The skin of the toes, as they squirmed around on top of his nude body and smushed him painfully against the shaggy fabric of the heel, felt unfamiliar to him.  They weren’t the seasoned, deeply grooved, partially dried digits he was accustomed to.  These were softer, creamier, like pillows of plush skin, as if the flesh had been soaking in lotion for hours on end.  It made the experience marginally more pleasant, to be sure, but it was an anomaly, and it worried Scott.

Then he noticed something else.  Inhaling deeply, he noted that the usual scents weren’t there.  Normally, with each breath of oxygen in this position, Scott was treated to an aroma of caked sweat and dirt, his totalitarian mother’s salty bodily grime coating flesh, and arid shoe fabric.  It was akin to laying under a massive pile of used gym shorts and socks.  However, it was different right now.  The same haunting odor wasn’t leaking horribly from between the crevices of the invasively massaging toes.  Instead, it was the unmistakable smell of tropical fruit, bubbles, and chemically concocted flower imitations laid overtop simple, freshly washed skin.  It was strong, but bearable, and suddenly, at that moment, Scott knew just who these youthful and probing toes belonged to.

“Oh… my…” stuttered Scott, gape-mouthed and wide-eyed, hardly daring to breath as he felt his girlfriend’s toes grip him even harder around the waist, squeezing his body against her tender flesh with unrelenting force before releasing him back to the base of the shoe and continuing the onslaught by laying the full weight of her toes atop his body.  “Oh… m-m-my…”

“Good, Ella, good!” cooed Judy, watching the scene intently as her son’s girlfriend, now borrowing her heel, got right into the spirit of it by calculatingly arching her foot, slamming her sole against the instep, and causing her busy toes to writhe over every inch inside the leather footwear.  Ella ran her fingers along the side of the shoe and up to the toe tip, where she tapped gently against the edge.  A mere inch away and through a layer of expensive leather was her boyfriend, struggling violently against her completely uncalled for pedal attack.  She could feel him squirming valiantly for freedom: freedom she had no intention of giving him, at least not for a few minutes more, until her curiosity was satisfied which, for all Ella knew, would never be fully satisfied.

The feeling was better than she had dared hope for. The sensation of the powerless limbs fighting against her dainty toes was so unmistakably human and yet so foreign a feeling, she felt like she had passed into a daze as she continued wrestling her boyfriend’s naked body with her playfully poking toes.  He was so pathetic; so helpless; so amusingly hopeful, above all else.  She could feel the zeal with which he was bracing against the intrusive onslaught of body wash-scented flesh, powered by a foot so overpoweringly strong to his inch-tall form that it was as if an ant was trying to fell an anteater.

To Ella, this last thought was almost what taking place so satisfyingly inside Judy’s borrowed shoe.  As she felt Scott’s puny body fighting against her, she felt the indescribable urge to have her foot consume Scott’s being.  She nodded to herself, knowing that this of course didn’t mean she wanted her boyfriend dead by any means.  She loved him and didn’t want him hurt.  But this feeling was different.  As she gripped his body into her toe flesh as if trying to bear hug his bug-like form against her well-pedicured lower appendage, she felt as if she was trying to fuse his body with the very skin of her foot.  She wanted him to pass through this disconnect they had and become one with her toes: a thing she had attached to her body, that she might constantly encase inside a shoe, in total darkness with nothing but the rank scent of body odor and the occasional molestation exercise from her bulbous toes.  All the while loving him, and perhaps loving the feeling almost as much.  Maybe more.  The feelings and thoughts were rushing into Ella’s head so fast she felt like she was about ready to have a meltdown, and yet she couldn’t allow this to happen.  The feeling was far too affecting, and she was determined to experience every wonderful instant of her boyfriend battling against her foot.

Inside the heel, Scott had gone limp, having long ago passed the stage of embarrassment and moved on into total, hopeless dismay.  He didn’t want to believe it.  He refused to believe it.  And yet, as Ella’s toes parted, clearly making way to more effectively grip his body between them, and clasped his head deeply into the crevice between them, he was forced to face it (literally).  He knew what was going on, who was causing it.  Shivering so violently he thought he was about to have a seizure, Scott opened his mouth wide with the intent of screaming out his ultimate exasperation.  “Holy FUCK!” he cried out desperately before having his lips silenced by the powerful, unbreakable wall of flesh formed by his girlfriend’s toes.  His mouth pressed painfully and finitely against the soft, sweet-smelling skin of his girlfriend’s massive foot, Scott felt the tears flowing again.  Sliding his arms finally with more gentleness as far around as he could go around the fleshy pillar of Ella’s toe, Scott hugged himself against it for warmth, crying without reservation now, his sobs muffled by the shuffling of skin against skin as Ella continued working over her insect-sized boyfriend’s legs and crotch.

“Enjoying yourself, honey?” whispered Judy, watching the unblinking face of Ella, who was concentrated with stone-cold precision on her foot, focused on each and every move of her muscles and how it was affecting the tiny human being pinned underneath the weight of her toes.

There was no answer to the question as Ella continued staring downward, and Judy was fine with this, smirking to herself.  She knew, at this moment, interrupting would be nigh impossible.  So she crossed her arms and leaned back in the couch, watching for several more minutes in silence.  Ella remained, her entire body frozen in place, except for her right foot, which was actively at work, having not stopped its rapidfire, squirming motion since slipping into Scott’s leather prison to keep him company.  At long last, the silence was broken again.

“Mrs. Stevens?” asked Ella flatly, her voice robotic; clearly, she was still fully entranced.

“What can I do for you, honey?”

“Has it been… ten minutes yet?”

“Why?” asked Judy, surprised and somewhat touched that, despite the incredible wonderment of that “first time” Ella was experiencing right now (that Judy remembered all too well), the teen girl was still concerned with the promise made to her miniscule boyfriend about his time-out. 

“Has it?” asked Ella again.

Judy looked over at a clock over the fireplace.  It had, in fact been ten minutes.  It had actually been twenty so far.  But nodding assuredly to herself, Judy looked back to the stoic, starkly concentrated, beautiful face of the blonde teen.  The thought of Ella’s worry made Judy’s heart beam: the young girl still loved Scott very much as a real person, despite her evident infatuation with what was happening right now.  She, like Judy, had learned the delicate balance in her relationship with the unfortunate Scott, and Judy had a feeling the adventurous girlfriend would be dedicated to keeping things as they were, even once the punishment was at an end and Scott was returned to normal size.  Perfect.  Brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes, Judy calmly placed a hand on one of her meaty thighs and sighed contentedly.

“Oh, don’t worry about it, honey.  That clock’s fast anyway.  Take as loooong as you’d like,” she said with a soft chuckle.  “As long as you’d like.”