“I swear! I’ve told you everything I know!!”

“You told me the exact same thing the last two did. That’s hardly much to go on.”

Sitting bow-legged, the large redhead continued unperturbed by the tiny protests the man offered up, still dangling precariously between the thumb and index of her right hand. At this stage, it served as little more than intimidation, going by the techniques she’d mastered. The same precise process she’d put the previous dissidents through, and for all it seemed, things were heading to the same conclusion for this tiny fool.

“Well, if you insist on wasting my time even more, maybe you’ll benefit from a timeout. No doubt your friends have been making the most of theirs’. I can’t say quite what state they’re in, but I’ve been told my boots can be quite persuasive for you tiny types, so I’ve got high hopes,” Natasha carried on, still speaking rather directly, her voice saturated in those dry, husky tones for which she was known. “The last few times, you things seem to crack long before I’ve even gotten the chance to slip you inside. But I suppose this is a special case.”

The effect was almost immediate. With the threat of entombment within the giant operative’s footwear laid down, the shrunken man quickly began to thrash and wail inconsolably. His former efforts doubling, if not tripling.

“You can’t! That’s… that’s… YOU’RE EVIL!” Again and again, he pleaded and repeated his truth to her deaf ears whilst her eyes visibly glazed over from tedium. Clearly he still wasn’t getting the message, foolishly kidding himself that she was at all interested in his truth, or any that of any of his fellows for that matter. Instead simply wanting to hear exactly what suited her best, and what would satisfy her superiors. So from her rather large perspective, Natasha’s choice was quite comfortably made.

“Ugh, I’m getting tired of this. You’ve had your chance,” she said dismissively, closing her hand around the man, silencing him and already glancing around for her discarded footwear. “Now where did I…”

Turning from side to side, she soon spied them to her rear. Hardly an arms reach away on her left side, both imposing leather monoliths stood resolutely, completely still and yet actively leaking a miasma of visible fumes out into the wider room. From her reluctant experience, only the most diluted of the scent seemed to be capable of escaping up and out from the depths of her footwear, so god knows what things were like down at the base. It wasn’t like she was about to check.

Far as she was concerned, the bottoms of those old boots were suitable for only two things. Her feet, and any tinies stupid enough to provoke Natasha into sending them sprawling down to stew in her scent. Two of which had already made that mistake and the third seemed to have realised she was intent on sending him to join them.

“Disobey me at your peril, bug. The last one that tried to climb his way out of these wasn’t quite so cocky when he found out the punishment for disobedience. Whilst you’re down there, perhaps you should go ask him. See if he regrets his decision yet,” she flashed the hint of a smirk as she spoke, unseen by the man still folded up in her steadily moistening palm. “I’m sure he’s ever so sorry now, after all, my toes aren’t the best company. Assuming he’s still there at all, and not just disintegrated along with the rest of my insole.”

It was all part of her training, verbal deconstruction and negative thought intrusion, all to prepare for the next step. Entertaining as it all was, she was a professional and planned on following through with the true power she held. After all, it wasn’t called ‘Sensory Interrogation’ for nothing.

“Enjoy yourself, and we’ll see if you’re feeling more cooperative in an hour or two.”

Left boot in hand, Natasha dragged it forwards and unfurled her closed fist to dangle the dishevelled looking man once again. He seemed a little shorter of breath now, no doubt having suffered within her clammy palm. But if he thought things were about to get less sweaty now… boy, was he wrong.

“Later,” she said, lazily tossing him up, only to plummet into the waiting shaft as she pushed the boot back away from her. With the first two, she’d at least watched as the waiting, pungent smog swallowed them up, but even she was starting to feel a little nauseous from the lingering foot smell.

“And then there was one,” Natasha said, reaching over to the satchel she’d been passed upon entry into the chamber. Within it, she felt the three empty canisters along with the remaining occupied tube, which she eagerly snatched as she withdrew her arm.

Hastily cracking the seal and dumping out the contents within, the comparatively enormous redhead was actually a little surprised to find her final charge already tampered with. Up to that point, the original girl and subsequent boys had all been presented in the same condition - each one stripped down to their underwear and left unbound. However, in a somewhat stark contrast, the last target of Natasha Romanoff’s skills had skidded out of the metal container and out onto the floor beneath her, revealing himself to be stripped, bound, and gagged. Each of his arms pinned down to his sides and his struggling legs restrained at the ankles, whilst his mouth had been sealed shut with a single piece of shrunken masking tape. It all looked rather amateurish, slapped together, at least to a specialist like Natasha. But still, the opportunities it presented far outweighed any optics issues.

“Well well, aren’t you in a bit of a bind, little guy? How’d you end up like that?”

Of course any response he tried to give was totally muted by his bondage, causing a flair of frustration to bubble up from the tiny man as he stared daggers through the looming woman. “Mind speaking up? I can’t quite hear you.”

He struggled once more but he could begin another muffled tirade, Natasha swept him from the floor and brought him up to eye level, tightly squeezing his upper body between her fingers to silence any further disruptions. She still wasn’t entirely sure what he must’ve done to deserve such total incapacitation, but if he’d warranted that treatment before being handed to her, perhaps she should also raise her game to treat him as he deserved.

“Tell you what, let’s make this easy. I’m sure you’re a smart boy, and I’m sure you know why you’re here. Just tell me who your financier was, and I’ll go easy on you. Of course, it’s a bit late for that with the rest of your crew, but seeing as I’m running low on options, I’ll cut you some slack.” Whilst speaking, Natasha had made sure to lean a little, giving the man the shortest of glimpses of her distant boots. Of course he didn’t have the context for what relevance they served, but the sight was still quite disgusting. “Whatd’ya say? Feeling in a bargaining mood?”

He shook his head without a second’s thought. Still staring rebelliously, clearly confident in his ability to resist what she might have in store for him.

“Wow. I’m impressed. The rest crumpled right away, but you seem to think you’ve actually got a chance here, huh?” Even with the tape across his mouth, the concealed smirk was obvious to the large interrogator, amusing her greatly as she considered her next move. They were always much more fun to break when they had ego to spare.

“I like you, little one. Men with something to fight for are always far better than the ones that collapse at the first breeze. Of course, it just means I’ll have to go that much harder on you to compensate, but I still appreciate it,” she chuckled, giving him a little shake as she withdrew him from her immediate sight, allowing her eyes to wander once more. And soon, following the briefest of glances down to the ends of her crossed legs, a smirk of her own curled into existence. “And I think I’ve got just the thing in mind. Now hold still.”

Shifting her hands, Natasha deftly flipped the man on his head, releasing his upper body and grabbing hold of his legs simultaneously, causing his helpless form to swing down below her hand like a pendulum.

“Still with me?” She gave him a little shake just as he was slowing to a stop. “Good. You won’t want to miss what comes next…”

For the record, Natasha was generally accustomed to wearing her combat boots with either a thick pair of tights or some insulating socks during active duty. She’d always found the additional maintenance that came with that amount of perspiration far too much to bother dealing with, so either of those choices did their best to reduce the sweatiest outcomes. However, in advance of any upcoming sensory interrogation, she would gladly forgo any barrier between her feet and the boots, eager to create the foulest environment possible with which to extract any and everything she wanted. And this time was no exception.

With more than a week to prepare, she was absolutely certain she’d never managed to create a sensory experience quite as foul as that which she brought with her that day. With every single step Natasha had been able to feel her feet sloshing around in the shallow pools developing atop her insole, and in her mind’s eye she could already see the sickened expressions of the tiny people destined to sample her torrid achievement.

Even as the first boot had been peeled free, signalling the end for the shrunken girl that had been knelt before her, the scent was powerful. Extreme, even. But discipled as she was, Natasha had held off on exposing any of the captives to the true source of the smell. Her boots might have made for excellent tools, soaking up and containing most of the worst that she had to offer, but her feet were the endgame for any sensory session. And she knew it.

Without much of a performance, the giant redhead moved her arm slightly further back, angling the restrained boy high above her feet. At first he didn’t seem to quite realise what had prompted the change in position. Until he took his next breath.

From the giantess’ perspective, he didn’t even seem to react intentionally. Recoiling bodily almost exactly as the diluted scent of her bare feet rose up towards his swaying self. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you. I offered you the carrot, kid, but you wanted the stick.”

His movement was becoming increasingly erratic now, jerking from side to side, legs contracting as he fought to free himself from the restrictive bonds. But even if he could somehow overcome his bondage, his ankles remained in the Black Widow’s clutches. And it was obvious, even to him, that there was only one place she planned on him going.

“Once we’re through, and you’ve told me exactly what I want to hear. You’ll wish I’d just tossed you in my boots with the others. I promise you, they’ve had it easy compared to what I’m going to do to you.” She spoke coldly now, still entertained by the unfolding scene but doing all she could to hide that from the previously confidant man. Ever ounce of his bravado now evaporating by the second.

Where he’d once worn that snide sneer, staring through Natasha, now all that remained was a trembling jaw and bulging eyes. Any hopes of negotiation so hopelessly out of reach.

“Hmm, you clearly haven’t paid enough attention. If you really appreciated just how much trouble you were in, I’d expect tears by now. But don’t worry, my feet can help you with that,” she finished in a sly, almost hissed tone.

Suddenly, the tiny man began to feel his world shifting again. Still a little frazzled by the surrounding stink, it was difficult to tell what was happening at first. He wondered if perhaps mercy had prevailed and that she was drawing him back into her orbit, however the increasing potency of the horrid musk seemed to imply the opposite.

Natasha still watched with great interest as the male within her grasp nervously lowered his gaze and caught on to what was fast approaching him, as he lowered by the second. To her, the combined smell of her airing boots and exposed feet was deeply unpleasant, even having spent more time than any other exposed to her own odour. So for how bad the boy must have it - swiftly descending towards her waiting toes, with no choice by to inhale for every single sickening breath - she could scarcely imagine.

“Not many people know, but when they first asked me to retrain in sensory interrogation, I actually turned them down. Old habits and all that. I didn’t much care for the idea of extracting information in such blunt way. However, looking back, I think I was destined for this,” she said, pausing his trajectory for the briefest moment. “Though I’ll admit, I’ve always preferred the name grunts like you came up with. Much more appropriate,” she continued as he started his descent once more, quickly becoming surrounded by the full force of her reeking toe stench, doing all he could to avert his stinging eyes from the ten wriggling digits below. “Stink torture, wasn’t it?”

Below her toes continued to wiggle eagerly, so keen were they to play with the living toy she dangled temptingly above. And all as Natasha made sure the boy got nothing but the most potent dose of her fragrant feet that she could provide, holding his face mere inches away from the reeking source.

“I don’t think there’s much more to say,” she huffed, watching his face teeter less than an inch from her steamy, mirror-like skin. Tears clearly sliding down his face. “Just remember. You asked for this.”

In the frozen moment before his demise, the man spun up to meet her gaze one last time, sending droplets scattering, impossible terror covering his face. All he saw was her wide, wicked smirk. And then black.

Once in place, face buried at the sodden base of her toes and body shaking uncontrollably, Natasha shuffled her feet ever so slightly to better contain him. Turning each one inwards just enough to curl her long digits around his suffering form and squeeze her feet together. Sole to sole. Toe to toe. With the man’s hysterical, muffled shrieks growing quieter as more and more of her sweaty foot flesh piled onto him. Entombing him completely. Soon the only sign of the poor kid’s existence was his fluttering ankles poking out above the edge of the giantess’ merciless toes.

The smell rising from the pit of her toes, amplified by the vice she’d created, was absolutely repulsive. Natasha had no choice but to hold her own nose not long after sealing him in, as the intolerable reek had rapidly become too much for her. Every breath made her feel genuinely queasy. Unfortunately there was no way to block out the sticky feeling of her wet soles squishing and slapping into one another, however she felt it was at least balanced out nicely by the serene writhing coming from between her toes.

As the boy was force-fed more and more of her foot stink, she wondered just what must’ve been going through his mind. If there was even any room for thoughts given the smells she was violating him with. Perhaps he hoped some arbitrary time limit for his torment might expire and she’d be forced to relinquish him, or maybe some nameless suit would swoop in and save his pitiful life. If it was either of those, then she had some very, very bad news.

No one was coming to save him and she was cleared to use as much time as she needed to secure the information that’d been requested. Rarely did that exceed an hour or two, but she had been forced to reposition her charges for mobile interrogation before, which was just the professional way of saying, ‘stuffing them into her sweaty boots and wearing them for as long as it took for each and every one to break’. Be it via her smothering steps or horrific stench, the outcome was inevitable. Total submission. Though she doubted the need for any prolonged interrogation this time.

“My my, you still think there’s a chance to get out of this?” She was a little taken aback at first, now watching as his legs squirmed and kicking upwards, almost like he was attempting to propel himself up and out of his fleshy prison. “Ugh, boys…”

Natasha placed each hand on its corresponding foot and gave her toes an absolutely vicious squeeze, at the same time pressing each foot together with all of her considerable might. Actual, congealed, liquid sweat then drizzled out from between several of her pale toes following that last act, most of which looked to originate from the rancid space currently occupied by her tiny boy’s face. Even with his body contorting worse than ever, his screaming seemed to have subsided completely. Natasha wasn’t entirely sure if this was a good or bad thing. But she still left him there nonetheless.

After at least twenty minutes spent suffocating her target, Natasha decided to assess the extent of the damage. Grabbing him by his ankles and pulling him out of the hell she’d created, she sought his attention. It took some doing, both to peel her feet apart and draw him out from between them, but eventually he came free with an awful, sucking pop.

Raising his limp body up to her face, though not close enough to actually smell the impact of her feet, she knew she’d succeed. His streaming eyes and soaking face told her all she needed, along with his beleaguered, shallow breaths. She’d crushed him, and he’d do anything she asked of him, if it meant avoiding a return to her feet. All she had to do was tell him the confession to provide and it was over.

“Still with me?” She shook him roughly, watching his head rotate on a swivel. “What do you say we get that tape off, hmm? Help that poor nose and let that mouth share some of the burden?”

Even in his miserable, lifeless state, he managed the weakest of nods. Likely desperate for any way to lessen the permanent damage Natasha’s feet had already done to his sense of smell. Naturally, she obliged.

Natasha used her free hand to carefully peel the tape from his mouth, barely retaining any of its stickiness after being submerged for so long.

“Hello? Earth to tiny?”

He still didn’t move much, however did manage a hoarse groan followed by a full-body spasm. It seemed to be taking all of his effort not to have his tongue just start lolling out of his slackened jaw. And unfortunately, she just so happened to notice this. Or more specifically, notice his tongue.

It was wrong. Of course it was, and she knew this. But then again, given the task, who was going to stop her?

Natasha opted to wait a few more minutes, giving the man a little more time to come to his remarkably fried senses. And come to them he did, albeit much weaker and more timid than when he’d first entered her toe trap.

“P-please…” She could hear him wheeze, lazily drifting from side to side within her grasp. “I’ll tell y-you… I’ll say anything… y-you want…”

She believed him. She knew that look, and that he’d do whatever she wanted. However, just because he was spent, didn’t mean she was remotely finished with him. “You will. But not yet. We’re not even close to finished…”

Moving him once more, the giantess slowly lowered him back down again, causing a fresh burst of movement from her tiny, particularly once he got near enough to fill his lungs once again. The scent had been streaming off her feet the moment her boots had come off and, at least to Natasha, hadn’t lessened in intensity even slightly since then. And soon enough, he was face to toe with her imposing peds once more, at least this time not buried between them. Yet.

“I wasn’t kidding about sharing the burden, kid. No more flailing around and sucking up that stink. You’ve and that tongue have got work to do,” she said, giving her toes the slightest of flexes, releasing a little extra stench in his direction. Disgusted as he was, her comment made little sense at first. Until he looked up, seeing Natasha peering back down humorously, sticking her own tongue out. And then it clicked.

“N-No! I don’t—“

The words hardly left his newly freed lips before he found himself roughly driven back down into the awful vice of her sweltering toes, quickly tightening around his head and bursting him with smell. “I’m not hearing another word out of you. All I want is that tongue.” Her cold authority rang out around the room, likely reaching her boot inhabitants also. “And if not, well, I guess we’ll see how you and your friends handle my feet inside my boots. Because you’re all mine for as long as it takes. So, if I was you, I’d get to licking. Now!”