THE FRECKLE
by PoisonPen
copyright 2021
Chelle's eyes were drawn as if by force, unwillingly, fractional degree by fractional degree to the right, to the sole of Diane's foot. Diane was sitting cross-legged on the shaggy red carpet side-by-side with Chelle, with the sole of her right foot visible, tucked up under her knee. There it was, the little brown freckle just below the ball of Diane's foot, a little brown speck on a bed of white and delicate pink. And as always, Chelle felt her cheeks grow red with suppressed embarrassment, eyes darting to make sure Diane wasn't watching her.
Chelle tore her eyes away, hunched her shoulders, and let the beach towel around her neck drop into her lap to cover the damp spot in her swim trunks. They had been swimming together in Diane's family's pool in the backyard, which had glass sliding doors which led directly into the basement rec room where they both now sat side by side in front of the small video screen. Diane had slid into a pair of cut-off jeans over her bikini, but the day was hot and she hadn't bothered to put her shirt and sandals back on. For the same reason Chelle still wore her own two-piece and had avoided putting her long pants back on.
Chelle and Diane had been best friends since middle school. Summer days were often spent in the pool, and neither felt uncomfortable being undressed around each other. At least, they hadn't in the past. But that freckle...
Diane's family was British, and Diane had inherited fair skin, light-brown hair which tended to the coppery in sunlight, and splashes of freckles across her face, back, arms, and shoulders. Short and slim with super-fine hair, Diane looked much younger than Chelle, though both were the same age. While Chelle had filled out in puberty and gained an gymnast's thick-legged hysique, her friend had retained the same boyishly skinny, smooth-skinned look she'd had since childhood.
Diane leaned forward and grabbed the video game console from its shelf beneath the video screen. The 'sizer was already there, having been brought downstairs earlier on their way to the pool. Their usual habit on these hot summer afternoons was to go for a swim through the worst of the heat, then come in and 'size themselves to play video games until evening.
"I'll go first," said Diane, laying a controller out carefully in front of her, then adjusting the front aperture of the 'sizer to point at herself. There was a click, a flash, and Diane dwindled away into a doll, still cross-legged amidst the thick pile of the carpet.
The Garbasizer, 'sizer for short, wasn't intended for use on people. It didn't have as many safeguards as those intended for human use and wasn't adjustable, but it was cheap and it worked. Diane's family used it for shrinking trash in the kitchen. It was an older model, locked at 8:1 scale, and the two friends had been using it for many years to make their gaming more fun. At eight times the size, the modest 21 inch television became a 14 foot cinema-sized screen. The game controllers were somewhat more awkward to use at doll size, but over the years they'd become accustomed to using them -- and they were both equally handicapped anyway, so it was fair.
Chelle reached over for the 'sizer and hesitated. her hand, instead of grabbing for the 'sizer, twitched lower. Without conscious thought, her hand wrapped around the mid-section of her eight inch friend and drew her up.
"Whoah!" yelled Diane, shocked at being plucked up. In all the years they'd been doing this, this had never happened. It was not just manners, it was the law; you didn't man-handle shrinkies, even as a joke. It was too easy to injure them. "The fuck! Put me down."
Chelle stared down at the angry pink doll wrapped in her hand, arms pinned at the side, legs dangling and bicycling as they dangled. Even at under eight inches, the freckled band covering both cheeks and the bridge of Diane's nose was clearly visible. Chelle found herself holding her breath as she tipped her friend upside down, revealing the tiny soles of her feet. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the itty-bitty tan speck of that freckle and she felt her breath release. She'd been afraid it would be too small to see.
"Whaaa--!" said Diane with a yelp as she became briefly inverted, blood rushing to her head, then flipped back right-side up. "What the hell, man! Let go!"
Still cross-legged on the floor, Chelle shifted uncomfortably as her mound became slick in her increasingly wet bikini bottom. The wet spot was still hidden under the damp towel she'd dropped to cover herself.
"I'm sorry," said Chelle, having to pause between words to clear her suddenly froggy throat. Her hands were trembling, forcing her to bring her elbows in and brace them against her sides, and bringing her friend almost into her lap. "I... I have to tell you something."
"Fuck off!" yelled Diane. "Put me down and then tell me whatever. I never told you that you could touch me!"
Chelle closed her eyes and concentrated on the sensation in her right hand, amazed to be able to feel the individual ribs and small, soft breasts of her friend against the undersides of her fingers as the little figure squirmed in her grip. After a few seconds of just absorbing the feelings of the tiny doll wriggling helplessly, Chelle opened her eyes again.
"Here's the thing," said Chelle, surprised at how calm she felt. "You have a freckle on your foot."
Diane stopped squirming. "Er... what?"
"I've never told anyone," said Chelle, "but I have a thing about feet. Like you remember Ian from English? He used to set a couple rows back. I caught him staring at my feet a few times so I’d kind of tip my feet up out of my shoes to let him see them. It made me horny. And I’m, like, super-aware of feet and stuff."
"What the fuck?" said Diane, staring in confusion up at the colossal Mt. Rushmore-scaled head of her best friend above her.
"I can't help it!" said Chelle, feeling her cheeks flush. "And, like, you have a freckle on your right foot, down on the bottom. Just one. You're always barefoot and every time you stick your feet up on the edge of the table or whatever, I see it. Like, always. And I'm not lesbian or anything, but... I dunno, I just... it looks so soft. I just want to touch it."
"Gross!" shouted Diane, struggling again. "That's not funny! That's just... sick!"
Chelle tilted her friend upside down again, revealing the legs, pedalling again. With her free left hand, Chelle reached out with her index finger and, holding her breath, touched the very tip of her finger to the delicately pink-hued sole of the little figure's right foot. At the touch, the feet began thrashing wildly.
"Get off!" yelled Diane. "Don't you touch me, you... lesbo!"
Chelle adjusted her grip, letting the little figure slip down so that her fist wrapped around Diane's thighs and knees, immobilizing her legs. The arms, now free, began to swing and thrash in an attempt to swing high enough to grab Chelle's fingers and maybe right herself or pull herself free, but accomplished nothing. Once again Chelle reached out with her index finger and placed it on the sole of the tiny captive's right foot, right atop that freckle. The sole was soft and pliable, like silk, and wriggling toes pressed into the pad of Chelle's index finger.
"Stop! Please," said Diane, her anger starting to be replaced by fear as she began to realize just how helpless she was, hope fading that this was some sick practical joke.
"It's so soft," breathed Chelle. she paid no attention to the sounds emerging from the thing in her fist. her attention was focused wholly on the exposed soles and the feeling of the yielding flesh against her fingertip. Chelle made a tiny circle with her finger, eliciting a giggle from the little doll from the unintended tickle. And then, drawing her finger away, she bent her head down and pressed the tip of her nose to those soft soles. She drew a deep, long breath through her nostrils, catching a slight, utterly enticing scent of something like warm leather. Unable to restrain herself, Chelle lifted her nose, extended the tip of her tongue, and pressed the hot, wet tongue to the little soles exposed before her.
"Gross! Fuck!" yelled Diane, angry again. "That's fuckin' gross! Let me go, you fuck!"
The squirming soles wrinkled under Chelle's probing as they grew damp, and a very slightly salty flavour tingled the tip of Chelle's tongue. Parting her lips, she drew the tiny feet entirely into her mouth, lips pursed around the little figure's ankles. she began to slide her tongue back and forth, slathering the feet with warm, thick saliva which pooled between the wriggling toes. Afraid she might drool, Chelle suctioned the saliva away, spreading the salty musk flavour around the inside of her mouth. Her bikini bottoms were now so wet that fluid was starting to seep through the fabric in droplets.
With a wet pop, Chelle drew the feet from her pursed lips. Not able to restrain himself any more and lost in the sudden release of a lifetime of inhibition, she moved the towel away from her crotch, then flipped the front of her swimsuit down to let her steamy, drooling pussy breathe.
Diane, still dangling upside down, watching with dawning horror as a monstrous pussy, nearly as long as she was, peeled moistly from her friend's swimming trunks to reveal swollen, half-parted labia drooling with gelid streamers of girl-goo, the engorged clit close enough she could have reached out and grabbed it if she'd wanted to do so. "Oh no! No! Oh no, no no!" said Diane, realizing this was really happening, that this wasn't a joke, that her friend was horny -- horny for HER, or at least, for her feet, and there didn't seem to be the slightest thing she could do about it.
Those soles with their single freckle, sheened with saliva now, lay before Chelle and she knew she'd gone so far she couldn't take it back even if she wanted to. she could do anything she wanted with those feet, which had so often made an imagined appearance in her feverish nightly finger-bang sessions. Here they were, right in front of her. Chelle's breath grew faster. she lowered her little captive abruptly into she hollow made by her crossed legs, eliciting a squeak of surprise, until the figure lay on its shoulders on the carpet, legs still firmly pinioned in her fist. Then, eyes wild with need, she pressed the exposed soles of her friend's feet to the lips of her pussy.
Instantly, warm pussy cream squidged between Diane's toes as she felt her feet pressed into the hot, rubbery flesh of her friend's gigantic labia. Diane curled her toes, then spread them wide, groaning in disgust as she tried to free herself of the sticky girl-goo which now clung to her feet.
Chelle moaned at the touch of those soft soles to her pussy. She closed her eyes, finding the sight of her juices drooling onto her friend's feet to be both a little gross and guilt-inducing, and concentrated on just the sensation of tiny wriggling toes playing against her now unbearably sensitive cuntflesh. But as good as it felt, Chelle was desperate with need, and the minute amount of contact was making her more horny instead of less. Unable to stand it any longer, she jerked her little captive up in front of her face, holding on now by just thumb and forefinger on Diane's ankles so she dangled freely.
"I'm sorry," said Chelle. "I'm so sorry. I'm so horny. I gotta do this. I'm sorry."
"Wait--" began Diane, but the word hadn't left her mouth before the fist of her giant friend's free hand wrapped so tightly around her mid-section that the breath was driven from her, then slid violently upward, shucking off her cut-offs and swimsuit and yanking them up over her legs to leave him completely naked.
Chelle didn't want to see the tiny pussy to remind her that this was a tiny chick she was enjoying, so she kept her captive turned facing away as she hung inverted, arms hanging down, only the taut, masculine-looking ass visible. With savage lust she thrust the doll-figure down against her throbbing pussy, pressing her palm over the little woman's front and pinning back and ass-cheeks against the labial flesh. The little captive's legs pinwheeled freely, heels and soles making repeating slapping contact with Chelle's swollen clit, while the head and shoulders got driven between the folds of Chelle’s pussy lips.
Slowly, with growing speed, Chelle began to slide the inverted doll in her palm up and down against her sopping cunt.
"Aw, naw, naw, naw," wept Diane and she began to slip inside, arms now totally immobilized between oven-hot pussy lips, as her back became slick with pussy juice and hot, drooling streamers began to leak between her cheeks to pool against her asshole. Her best friend was using her like a dildo, and there was absolutely nothing she could do about it. Her face, already red from being upside down, drew darker still as tears welled up and trickled down over her eyebrows.
Chelle's breath grew faster and her pumping sped up. Her pussy had a electric tingling she'd felt so often beneath the covers at night. She looked down at the cum-streaked soles of the tiny pussy-toy's feet and, spotting that elusive single freckle, she lost her battle to restrain the explosion she knew was coming.
Thick, ropy strands of girl-goo ran freely from Chelle's pussy with such untamed fury that her head arched back, mouth open in a rictus of silent scream, and would have toppled backwards if not for the free hand she stretched out behind her to support her weight. As hot splashes of juice began to soak Chelle’s soft mat of pussy hair and drool down her taint, she crammed the now thoroughly-slicked, desperately squirming doll entirely inside her cunt held by just one knee as she slid the squirming body around, occasionally slipping the frantically-writhing figure out to grind against her electrified clit before plunging it back inside herself. Bands of spasming vaginal muscle gripped the struggling doll-girl like a fist as waves of climax shuddered through Chelle.
For a while all Chelle could do was pant while she recovered and the white-out cloud around the edge of her vision retreated. When the squirming began in her pussy, she became conscious again of what was trapped inside her. Gently she withdrew the dripping, weeping, kuice-glazed little body from her cunt and into the towel which lay beside her, swaddled it inside, then used the towel to mop up the goo from her rapidly-cooling cleft, her taint, her fur, and her hand. Eventually, when she was satisfied that she'd got herself reasonably clean, she turned her attention back to the towel and its contents. She carefully untangled it and rolled its prisoner into her hand.
Diane lay cupped in Chelle's open palm, legs dangling, back against Chelle's fingers. The tiny figure's hands were pressed over its face and its shoulders shook with weeping. Like a broken toy it lay otherwise limp. Legs slightly spread, Chelle was uncomfortably aware of the itty bitty pussy framed by a light thatch of super-fine red hair that lay between the naked doll's thighs, reminding her that she'd just... done something with a girl. Her cheeks heated.
Chelle cleared her throat. "Um, sorry."
The little figure flinched but did not otherwise react, face still hidden in its hands, tiny wracking sobs emerging from behind them.
Chelle's eyes shifted side to side, as if looking to make sure she was alone. Of course she was. Diane's parents were at work and wouldn't be back for hours. Chelle's heart raced. She had done something horrible. And she'd done it with a chick. They'd think she was a gay or something. The fact that it was her best friend wracked with sobbing in the palm of her hand measured much less in her increasingly worried mind than people thinking she was some kind of lesbian. The idea of her parents finding out sent a shock of adrenaline through her. She had to make this right. She had to. She had to make all this go away.
"Hey Diane," said Chelle gently, calling her friend by name for the first time. "Hey."
Diane tentatively lowered her hands, revealing hair still spiky with pussy juice and a face mottled ugly and crimson with tears and shame, daring to hope that her torture might be over.
"Um, you're not going to tell anyone," said Chelle.
Diane sat up, eyes wide, holding out her hands in a placating gesture. "No, I promise, I promise I won't tell anyone, please, just grow me back. Please. Please. I swear I won't tell."
But Diane didn't realize that her giant friend wasn't asking a question. She was making a statement.
Once again Chelle curled the tiny figure into her fist, first wrapping its breasts and arms firmly in her right hand, then this time using her left hand to wrap up the little doll figure's thighs and calves, leaving just a pair of bare feet resting on her thumb at the bottom, and a sticky-haired head resting on the littlest finger of her other hand at the top, completely immobilized. As she lifted the figure and ran her tongue along the soles of the exposed feet, the trapped little captive let loose with a despairing sob as she realized her ordeal hadn't ended. Was she going to be raped again?
Chelle parted her lips and drew the little feet within, grasping the ankles with her teeth and slurping, the wrinkled soles resting on the tip of her tongue. She slid the tip of her tongue back and forth and then began to slowly work the calves and shins inside, sliding over her bottom lip, over the rough edge of her bottom teeth, and then gliding on the hot, wet, bumpy surface of her tongue. As the tangy flavour of sweat spread, Chelle began to salivate, forcing her to slurp loudly to keep from drooling between the knees which now lay atop her lower lip.
Diane felt her shins slide into a steamy, hot space, trying to tilt her head up far enough to see past the imprisoning fist to see what was happening. It wasn't until she felt something soft, slimy, hot, and yielding slide serpent-like over her calves that she realized her legs were inside her friend's mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut and wailed, wondering what fresh humiliation was about to be done to him. She'd just had her entire body shoved completely inside a giant, hot, soaking-wet pussy, not just any pussy but the pussy of her best friend, and now her feet lay entirely inside this same friend's mouth, being slurped on and wetly massaged with a hot tongue like a slimy, bumpy thumb.
And then Chelle began to suck harder, letting the figure slide within even deeper, thighs being slurped wetly inside until she could feel the sweet little buttocks, boyish and taut, resting on her lower lip. The ticklish fur of a tiny pussy mount pressed into her upper lip. Her teeth pressed into the tops of her friend's little thighs, holding her firmly in place, allowing Chelle to free the hand which had been holding the tiny captive's legs still.
"Wh- what are you doing?" said Diane. Her legs from the shins down were free and she wiggled them around, feeling her toes scrape against the ridged palate of her friend's mouth. She could feel her pussy pressing into the flesh of Chelle's upper lip and felt weirdly ashamed, as if she was doing something obscene rather than having something obscene done to her. She tried to wriggle her hips, but she was firmly gripped by teeth at her thighs and fingers around her torso. Then there was another loud, wet slurp and her entire hips slid inside her friend's mouth.
Chelle closed her eyes, partly so she wouldn't have to look into the round, frightened, staring eyes of her friend, and partly so she could concentrate on the strange and exotic sensation of living flesh sliding over her tongue. As she parted her lips and drew her little captive's hips into her mouth, her tongue sought the cleft of the tiny buttocks and forced them apart, slathering the exposed asshole and earning a fresh wash of salty flavour over the inside of her mouth, now awash with saliva. Unable to contain the growing pond of hot spit in her mouth along with the lower half of a doll-sized girl, Chelle had to tilt her head upward at a 45 degree angle and gulp.
Feet beginning to prune and legs immersed in hot, slimy saliva, Diane could only gasp as she felt the tip of the probing tongue force its way between her legs and invade her ass crevice, whimpering with humiliation. And then there was a loud gulp, a sensation of pressure, and the soles of her feet collided with something wet and pendulous -- something she realized with dawning horror with her friend's uvula. Her feet were now hanging over the back of the giant girl's throat.
"No!" screamed Diane, a shock of fear giving her a burst of adrenaline. She tried to bring her knees up, to cram her feet somewhere, wedge himself immobile, but the contact of feet with uvula had triggered another loud, wet gulp, this time drawing her in to the chest, spine resting painfully on lower teeth, nipples hot beneath the upper lip of her gigantic friend, and now her arms were pinned not by fingers but by hard, rigid teeth. Her knees were bent downward -- grasped in a ring of muscular flesh which completely immobilized them as if bound in hot, fleshy chains.
Chelle gagged as she felt feet slide over her uvula, suppressing a cough and swallowing hard instead, like she was trying to hold back vomit. The little figure slid inside her mouth up to the breasts, but now Chelle's throat was entirely blocked. She could not breathe. She was committed and could not delay. Saliva flowed freely from the corners of her mouth, as it could no longer drain down her throat. Feeling a pang of fear that she might choke herself and die, Chelle began involuntarily to swallow again and again, uncaring about what she was swallowing, just desperate to clear passage to breathe.
Diane could not move. She felt the ring of muscular flesh ripple and bulge around her shins, gripping her like a fist, yanking her until she felt her pussy glide against and past the hot, wet uvula hanging in the back of her friend’s throat like some kind of weird, dangling cock.
"Chelle, no, please!" shouted Diane as her hips began to slide over the precipice where her legs had already been inexorably forced. Two giant tree-like fingers -- middle and index -- pressed hard into Diane's shoulders, pressing her forcefully into that yawning hole. Only her head now lay outside the lips which encircled her neck and she could see nothing but flaring nostrils above her. "We're friends! Please no! Don't eat me! I won't tell! I swear, I won't tell anyone, just, just grow me back! Please, Chelle, don't--!"
But several loud, increasingly violent gulps drew the little girl's head through the pursed circle formed by Chelle's lips, and the begging voice was cut off as her head became immersed in a sloshing pool of frothy saliva. The tiny doll figure could only force out a strangled half-scream through bubbles of spit as she felt her lower back bent painfully over a ridge of muscle at the back of Chelle's tongue. The lips pressed shut and all light vanished, sealing the little doll into a pitch-black, tongue-whipped, flooded cavern with the only egress being a tiny, mucous-slicked hole leading into even inkier darkness.
Chelle gagged as her throat expanded, unable even to cough now, a weirdly-wriggling bolus sliding slowly down. Tears of desperation now leaking from the corners of her eyes, Chelle swallowed convulsively again and again and again, hardly even noticing as a shock of reddish hair slid past the back of her tongue into her throat. A sharp, overstretched ring of pain allowed Chelle to trace the path the little figure took as it inched its way down her throat. Her vision had begun to dim when finally, after half an eternity of frantic gulping, the writhing obstruction made its way past her oesophagus and allowed Chelle to take a deep, shuddering gasp of air.
Diane twisted side to side, forming her fingers into claws at her sides, toes clenching and unclenching trying to find any kind of purchase, but the muscular kneading was relentless, and she dropped lower and lower, head still fully immersed in a pool of metallic-tasting spit pooled up around her, blocked by her breasts from draining downward. Finally, half-choked, Diane felt her feet slide through an even tighter ring and enter an empty, open space. Several more rhythmic pulses followed and first shins, then thighs entered the same space. As her terror-heated pussy slid free of confinement, Diane's feet pressed into slimy wetness which marked the limit of her new enclosure. Belly, then breasts and arms forced their way through the tight ring, forcing her remaining breath from her chest and causing her to inhale a mouthful of hot saliva. As Diane dropped down into an imprisoning, meaty sack in a cascade of saliva, she was forced to curl up foetally, knees to chest. There was no light whatsoever; she might as well have been blind. Coughing and retching, Diane tried to straighten herself, legs pistoning into the flappy, fleshy walls around her. While the flesh had some give, it seemed to press muscularly back against her, and she could not force it to allow her to uncurl.
Chelle lay on the floor, panting, the back of one hand thrown over her forehead, the other hand resting palm-down on her abdomen. her throat still ached, but she could breathe. She'd felt her enormous burden suddenly vanish, only to be replaced by a strange fluttering inside her, just near the base of her rib cage and slightly to one side. As she tilted her head up, she was greeted by the strange sight of her belly deforming very slightly as something inside poked outward. her belly juddered, then another poke and deformation. Despite her aching throat, Chelle was entranced. She moved the palm of her hand over the precise spot where the deformations were occuring and nearly laughed when she felt a direct impact. This was super-weird. It didn't hurt at all. In fact, it felt strange, but kind of good.
Diane paused in her struggle, momentarily exhausted. In her panic she hadn't really taken the time to recognize where she was. Though she knew at least unconsciously where her journey had to end, she had remained in denial. Now she was forced to confront the reality: she had been eaten alive. Her best friend had swallowed her whole, like an oyster, like a fucking snack. A girl she'd known since they'd both been kids had just raped her and then gulped her down, right down her throat, into her belly. She was in her best friend's stomach. The air, what little there was, was acrid and close. It stank like vomit and copper and sulfur. As Diane felt around her with her palms, the walls were irregular with bulges and crenellations, coated in soapy, clinging mucous, but running with a thin, hot fluid which trickled over her fingers.
"Please Chelle," said Diane, her voice loud and echoless in that sweltering biological coffin. "Please, I don't want to die. Please let me out. I promise I won't tell anyone. I don't want to be your food. Please, Chelle. Please. We... we're friends. Please. Please."
Chelle patted her belly. If the little dolly snack-thing inside her -- she'd ceased thinking of it as a person -- made any sounds, she could not hear it through the meat of her belly. She licked her lips, enjoying the lingering flavour of sweat and fear-musk. She closed her eyes and remembered the delicate softness of the soles of the feet which even now lay inside her, the memory of that single freckle and the way the soles wrinkled and wriggled beneath her tongue. She felt himself grow damp again, lowering her hand to her hot pussy. She was young and horny, and began stroking her clit with her thumb, knowing from experience that her next climax would take longer and be much stronger. To her delight she once more felt the wriggly squirming inside her belly, this time eliciting a loud, rumbling belch which brought with it the delicious flavour of warm, perspiring skin.
Diane wept. Liquid, a mixture of thin, sour-smelling fluid and thicker, more gelid saliva, pooled up to her navel as she sat curled up, arms pressed to the sagging roof of her enclosure. Her groin, buttocks, feet, and calves, fully immersed, had begun to tingle unpleasantly. Her eyes already burned horribly with acrid fumes, as did her lungs. She was beginning to get lightheaded in the increasingly bad air. She whimpered softly. She wiggled around, pushing with what little strength she had left, trying to find some kind of escape, some tiny hole where she could squirm her way out. She did not know that her feeble struggles had made her friend horny again. The flesh around Diane undulated and for just a moment she dared to hope that Chelle had decided to save her. Instead, there was a thunderous clapping sound as what little air remained was forced out, pressing her entire rest of her body into the fuming, vomitous hells-brew save only a tiny space where she pressed her head, fleshy ceiling held up only by the trembling, exhausted muscles of her neck. As the tingling began to turn to stinging and burning, Diane whimpered a final despairing, "Oh god..."
Chelle lay on her back, wholly relaxed, one hand behind her head and the other at her cunt, stroking gently. The struggles in her belly had turned for a final brief moment to frantic thrashing, and then settled down to occasional twitches. She'd clean up and sneak home and no one but she would ever know what happened. She'd miss Diane, but now they'd always be together. She wondered if she'd see little white bones tomorrow. She hoped so.
Maybe she'd keep the acid-etched skull as a memento to help her remember those soft, sexy soles -- and that incredible freckle.
-fin