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.”