The hellish day’s routine was shattered suddenly as Courtney’s foot pulled entirely from the shoe.  It was performed delicately enough that, in his refusal to fight the immovable force that represented his teacher’s appendage, Kevin’s body remained stuck to the woman’s massive sole by a combination of dried sweat and being compressed into the doughy surface for hours on end.

            A thumb wider than his entire body dug into his side and plucked him from the broiling skin of the foot, reddened from its confines, and deposited him into the center of her palm.  As he opened his eyes, he found himself staring up at the usual pitiful grimace Courtney gave him when observing him like this, as though he was some living tragedy she might see on the news and shake her head at.  A lost cause, almost.

            “I just thought I’d let you know they scheduled a meeting over at the school after summer classes let out, so we have to head over there next,” Courtney’s voice boomed in the quiet sanctity of her office, and she couldn’t help but let a small smirk cross the corner of her pink-glossed lips that she obviously wasn’t shy about her student observing.  It wasn’t like he could do something about it.

            “Okay,” he croaked, less from total abandon and more because he hadn’t had a reason to speak at all since that morning.

            “Still feeling the Sizac?” she inquired.  She asked the same question every day around this time, though she knew the effects were intended to last far longer into the afternoon and evening.  Apparently it helped her conscience through all this, and his parents’ as well.

            “Yes,” he answered truthfully.

            “Good,” she said with a self-assured nod, and laid the tip of a fingernail over Kevin’s stomach, as though considering poking him to confirm this.  “Since you’ll be down there a little longer today, I’ll give you a dinner break just before the meeting to get a little more air.”

            “Okay.”

            “You’re looking a little more tired than usual,” she commented.  “I suppose it was because I’ve had to do so much walking today.  Not as many chances to sit and slip the shoe off.”

            “Maybe.”

            “We’ll try to balance it out a little,” Courtney said.  Reaching into her purse where it was stowed under the desk, she pulled out a tiny spritzer bottle of a perfumed air freshener made to smell like a combination of juicy summer melons and popped the cap off with her thumb.

            Then, leaning closer to the carpet, she pointed the plastic cylinder into the currently empty high-heeled prison cell for her student and squeezed a generous mist of the spray inside.  Even from his perch this high up in his teacher’s hand, Kevin could feel it tickling his nostrils.  He knew it would be a strong aura to return to, given how much she’d used, but it was obviously still far preferable to the ungodly must of salt and earth he would be experiencing without it, and he even found himself slightly looking forward to the prospect of a change.

            For as long as the smell lasted before it was supplanted again by the overpowering stench of its much larger and meatier occupant, anyway.

            “There, that should help with the breathing a little,” Courtney declared as she tucked the small bottle back into her handbag and fully returned her gaze to her two-inch charge.  Her palm shifted underneath him, causing him to roll a couple inches closer to her curled fingers, though he remained secure.

            “Thanks,” Kevin answered instinctively.

            “You’re welcome,” she said with pleasantry she’d been particularly short on for most of the time he’d known her, and to Kevin’s surprise, it sounded dangerously genuine.  “Now let’s try to do something about the heat, hmm?”

            In the past to help with this issue on the longer days at work, Courtney had tried massaging her sole with ice cubes until they melted, giving her skin a much more comfortably cool sensation before she buried her student back underneath it, and Kevin was grateful for it.  Of course, this effect didn’t last long once her foot was crammed back into its previous hot environment.

            “Okay.”

            “Lift your arms up,” she instructed quietly, and suddenly the fingernail that had been hovering over Kevin’s abdomen hooked itself under his sweat-soaked t-shirt, the hard surface of it tapping against his stomach.

            “Sure,” he said, barely giving the matter any thought, and found himself humiliatingly grateful to find his disgusting shirt and then pants stripped easily away from him by his teacher’s practiced fingertips, leaving him in just his equally wet skivvies and sprawled in Courtney’s palm.

            Her finger approaching slowly again, the nail touching gingerly at the waistband of the teen’s underwear, the woman’s lips parted slowly.

            “I’ll leave it up to you.  If you want these off too, it might be more comfortable.  But it’s your choice,” she stated simply, sensing the potential for mind-bending humiliation in such an act.

            For a second, Kevin felt the urge to agree and be freed from this last filthy article of clothing that clung to his skin so hatefully, but some shred of tainted pride held his tongue.

            “No.  No, I’ll keep them,” he gulped, and Courtney nodded.

            “All right.  If you change your mind at the dinner break in three hours, just let me know,” she said as her palm began descending back toward the inevitable reinstating of Kevin in pump confinement.

            Once again, a thumb and index finger the width of punching bags pinched gently around his hips and plucked him from the plain of palm flesh.  In a brief rush of wonderfully calming wind that soothed his overheated body, Kevin was deposited back into the center of the heel, kept from sliding down to the toes by the friction provided by the matted insole.  As predicted, the melon spray packed a real nasal punch, but was still infinitely preferred to the alternative, which still managed to leak its way into his body between the fruitier whiffs.

            Biting his lip, the teen sensed that the possibility of him taking up his teacher’s offer of total disrobing after another three hours beneath her was fairly strong.  In fact, he was looking forward to it already.

            With determined finality, Courtney lowered her sole with a fleshy slap back into its original position in the shoe, its meaty mass consuming her drugged-up pupil once again beneath its sticky expanse.  With Sizac flowing through the boy’s veins, she had absolutely no qualms about grinding him with all her strength into the damp runway of her shoe.

            Kevin sighed, coughing in an attempt for air, and ended up taking a fresh mouthful of warm sudor expelled from the tender flesh at the top of Courtney’s sole.  His tongue lapped accidentally against the sea of firm, shifting skin, and rather than risk getting yet another taste, he bitterly gulped down the revolting, watery gift.

            Throat burning in rebellion for his unnatural forced beverage, the teen could practically feel a void opening up inside, and one thing became known to him with intense clarity when every other sense was clogged up by the miasmic essence of his teacher’s pump-baked skin.

            He was never, ever going to draw again.