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.”