Garrick and Martin scored themselves a night on the bed with Liza for their better behavior. There, as they all kissed and licked Liza until she slept, Garrick gave Martin a gesture, that he wanted a word. When at last she fell asleep, the slaves released their day-long restraint and masturbated, allowed their own release. They were forbidden to do so throughout the day as it would hurt their ambitions. It also served to make the day’s work more rewarding and purposeful, all the teasing and building given a meaningful release at the end, rather than diminishing into a throwaway event they were generously awarded several times a day.

After it had been silent for a while, Garrick lurched down from the warmth of her inner thigh to her calf where Martin lay. He tapped his shoulder.

“You’ve got something?” Martin said, hushed, their heads right beside one another.

“She told me that we’re going to town tomorrow.”

Martin got up from where he lay, half-sitting. “Town? We? All of us?”

“Asked the exact same thing, and she said yes. I don’t know if it literally means that we all waltz into town as a company. We find the nearest guard and scream for help otherwise. She can’t be that stupid, can she?”

“I pray she is. Maybe our sudden shift in attitude has gone over her head, and she thinks we’re faithfully tagging along.”

“No way.”

“Who knows. She’s received nothing but unwavering obedience from these dogs. It can have gotten to her, expecting us to fit right in with that.”

Garrick let a cautionary silence pass. No other presence emerged. “I should hope so. I wanted you to know ahead of time, keep your mind sharp for any way out.”

“Good.”

“Also, I spoke with Harry. He’s a good man.”

Martin nodded. “I’ve had conversations with him too. He would make a fine friend, not just here, but outside these mountains.”

“I believe so too. Anyway, sleep well.” He patted Martin on the shoulder and returned to her thigh. Despite having kidnapped and keeping him there against his will, he found her thigh surprisingly hospitable, protective, a comfort to lie under, and Garrick slept well.

***

Garrick should have known their visit to the town wouldn’t be what it seemed. It did indeed entail the act of literally visiting a real town. Liza put on a maroon, satin gown slashed with patterns of white diamonds, gathering her brown hair into a small, braided bun over the head. She had a simple, white beaded necklace, the gown reaching her shins, and she wore a pair of full, blue slippers. However, the slaves wouldn’t be wearing anything different than their naked skin, nor would they find themselves anyplace else. Liza wore bras and panties, and within the bra Slave One and Two were cupped into a breast each. Slave Five, Harry, was in her panties, and as if put on a cross, his legs were tied together to the narrowing strap of the underwear arching underneath her ass while his hands were secured up by the hemline. The panties were tight, cradling him against her warm pussy and presenting his outline through the fabric, concealed by the long gown. Inside her slippers, Slave Three and Four were underneath the outer portion of each foot, their heads popping out between the middle and fourth toes. Garrick and Martin were on the inner portion, the big and second toe the neighbor to each of their cheeks. Garrick was on her left foot while Martin was on the right.

Along with Harry in her panties, Garrick and Martin were gagged firmly, unable to get a word out. Garrick and Martin’s arms were also tied around the neck of her big and second toe, while Harry’s were to the edge of her panties, unable to untie the muzzle. That even Harry received such confinements wiped away any hope Garrick had of a lack of shrewdness from her end. Liza was aware that even Slave Five, despite all his obedience, despite doing everything right by the looks of it, had something else in his heart. She minimized any chance of a slip-up as she began her promenade through the valleys of the Koll mountains.

The slippers had straps to secure them to her feet, reducing any chance of accidentally slipping off. Garrick experienced the roller coaster of her weight bearing down on him, kicking off, then dragging backwards as the foot barreled forward through the air, and into another step where her weight bore down on him. The fluffy texture of her soles helped with the pressure, his body sinking into her downy flesh, helping to absorb the pressure, and she thankfully paid heed to them and tread lightly. The biggest fight for Garrick was to secure his head in the hold between her big and second toe. Between was far more preferable than underneath. Despite their plum underside, they would add another source of pressure to his head which he’d rather avoid, especially when it seemed he’d spend at least a couple of hours in here.

The insult to this embarrassing reality was the man Garrick shared the role of instep with, Slave Four, whose head was between her third and fourth toes. In the midst of her turbulent walk, he spent every available second of head-freedom to dip his face between the toe gap and kiss, to suck on a portion of toe flesh before the next phase of her walk stole away his voluntary movement. Garrick thought he’d seen humiliation at its peak, but there was a different taste to it now when Slave Four worked so diligently to show his love to the toes and foot which held him captive, which crushed him, which paid no heed to his pitiful existence. He looked like the pathetic lover kneeling in the garden with a bouquet upheld to the fair maiden at the window, yet he remained there for hours even after the rejection, the rain pouring upon him, and there was no glorious redemption to the tale. He just sat there. Likewise, Slave Four just worshipped, when the toes wouldn’t cease to step on and ignore his appeals.

Another detail to this new condition was the building heat. How perfumed and clean Liza’s feet had been upon the start of the journey didn’t matter. The acrid sweat easily replaced the pleasantness, coating her toes and giving them that slippery layer that, the one thing to appreciate, made their heads more elusive to grip onto. Although his hardgum turned thick and shock-absorbing from the moisture and Garrick’s arms were tied to her toes, this was the kind of force he was looking for. If he could get the hardgum dry, the goal was to end up here, and he found hope in the precedent this set, that she didn’t mind stepping on them.

The susurrus of crinkling leaves and swaying treetops revealed there was no proper path, which Garrick was aware of. The border to Eron wasn’t the most attractive land across Gharn, especially for humans. It helped Liza maintain her secret. However, this unspecified ‘town’ she mentioned came surprisingly early. Maybe her feet had stomped the sense of time out of him, but perhaps half an hour passed until the trees were no more and the sound she made were allowed to spread out over an expanse, free from the valleys. Soon enough, he even heard a girl speak to her mother, a giant child, along the trundling of enormous wheels over a road drawn by the giant cattle.

The surrounding conversations drew the image of a street in town. The walking had interruptions now, Liza standing by a stall as she purchased fruits and nuts, Garrick’s body caving into her moist soles. The toes would absent-mindedly flick his head around, squeeze him until his entire head was submerged in sweaty, squishy flesh. He was grateful for the need to keep him silent, as the muzzle prevented those toes and their bitter flesh to enter his mouth. The opposite held true for Slave Four. His open mouth was a blessing, using it to lap away at her toes and replace the sweat with his spittle.

“Liza, sweetheart, doesn’t it get lonely out there?” a woman selling enormous watermelons said.

“I enjoy those mountains,” Liza said. “I have my guests, also, and when I come in here, I fill up my need to see others with your delightful company.”

The vendor chuckled. “Oh, you charmer.”

Despite how forgettable Liza had made him inside her slipper, Garrick could feel the direction of her comments, the sting of its provocation directed right at him. To put Slave Four beside him was no accident, having Garrick hear the sound of his worship and be reminded, every passing second, every wet slurp and kiss, how he was choosing this when he had the freedom to scream for help. This applied for everyone, Slave One and Two on her breast were likely nestling against her nipples, while Martin in the other slipper likely had an equally sloppy neighbor. And with how normal everyone in this town perceived Liza to be, how Garrick himself wouldn’t find her odd amidst the crowd had he seen her in her modest dress, everything compounded to the most striking taunt Garrick had felt, slashing his ego to bits. She was a kidnapping, raping maniac, hiding in plain sight before these normal people, and she brought them along to show them how far the disguise could go. Garrick could feel the heart of her intentions, flaunting their powerlessness before them and showing how close yet far away they were.

As Liza was in her conversations, Slave Four was rocking up and down. Garrick realized he was humping the ball of her foot, the perspiration making their fleshy contact a slippery and easy business. He moaned with his mouth full of her fourth toe, quivering, revealing the orgasm. Wasn’t this forbidden? Could it be a cause for Liza’s rage later? Garrick wondered for how long he could maintain this sharpness, this keen mind searching for a way out. Inside her slippers, in this foot oven, it felt as if her sweat and weight were draining it away.

Slave Four resumed cuddling with her toes after his orgasm, in what could not possibly be pleasure, but a sense of duty. Liza moved closer to the town square, the cacophony of conversation louder, a flute and drum instrument playing a tune from somewhere. She sat on a bench, the weight relenting. However, that didn’t mean they were left unbothered. With her slippers barely touching the pavement, Liza planted her toes down on their heads and curled them slightly, but repeatedly. Her toes remained, causing her soles to slide up and down. At first, Garrick thought she was dancing to the tune, but the tempo was out of sync.

Memories went to when Garrick lay on the blanket by the lakeside, under her feet. With the memories, his manhood stirred, and with that, the understanding of what was going on.

She was stroking their dicks.

There was nowhere to hide from the advance, no stopping these enormous vehicles from moving back and forth. Garrick’s disappointment was proportional to his lust’s increasing response, the heightened sensitivity of his manhood, the miniscule motions his hips made to meet the surface of the soft soles. The smallness of his motions was no comfort, their existence at all was his bane, his mind screaming at him to stop but finding himself unable to. There was an automaticity to his responding lust that made him wonder if Liza had any magical powers, or if his base, manly desires were such a predictably animalistic thing to manipulate.

Slave Four moaned, whispering, “I love you Mommy.” He moaned into her third toe as he ejaculated once more. The soles were moving still. Garrick knew she was after him and Marvin, and they were powerless to do anything.

Garrick tried to holler, shout, producing nothing but a dark, muted groan through the muzzle. He squirmed to fight, put himself in another position, but there was no avoiding it. No perfume or cleanliness was needed, she’d brought him to where he could spurt his seed in that humid, sweaty, pungent slipper. The big and second toes rubbed his cheeks when they noticed his cum, commending him. He felt the weakness following orgasm, and with her big toe lazily sliding up and down, it brought the comfort of a mother’s tender touch, and under that, inside her slipper, Garrick dozed off into sleep.