I stood there, in a daze of sorts. Taking this all in. I wasn’t looking at anything, just standing there, dumbfounded, totally looking into space when it happened. Cindy flexed her toes. I was quickly brought back to my senses as I jumped back onto the porch.

So, she said. You like looking at women’s feet?

HUH…WH…WHA….WHAT? I responded.

You. You are staring at my feet she said.

No I wasn’t. I was just staring into space. I said defensively.

The space between my toes? she said raising her eyebrow.

I was trying to look up at her as I spoke but my eyes kept drawing themselves back to her feet. They looked soft. Her polish was expertly done. I broke away from my trance once again and looked back up at her. She was smiling down at me now. I finally asked her if I could have something to eat, anything to change the subject.

Sure, she said. How do I do this? I mean, do you follow me to the kitchen or do I carry you or what?

I asked her to lay her hand down palm up and let me climb into it. She did so and in a flash she closed her fingers tight around me and stood to her full height. The rush of her moving so fast almost caused me to pass out, and I almost messed in my pants as well.

Once in the kitchen, she sat me on the table and took out a small plastic bag with some cookie crumbs in it and gave me some. She gave me some juice in a plastic cup that came from a tea party set for dolls.

She sat at the table and watched me for the longest time. Finally, after I couldn’t take being stared at any longer I asked her if she would like some. She responded with a little smile and told me “no” she would wait for my dad to get home and then eat something.

After I finished my “little snack” as she called it, she carried me to the living room and placed me on the coffee table.

Cindy, could you put me back in my house, please?

Why? She said. You’re always in there. It isn’t healthy for you to stay all cooped up inside of that thing all the time. You need to move about elsewhere and get some exercise.

What is she talking about I thought to myself. EXERCISE? Does she know how much exercise I get on a daily basis walking around this room?

Just then, there were two massive thuds. The whole coffee table shook violently. I was knocked down by the force of the shaking. When I stood up I saw a massive foot on each side of me. HEY! I shouted to her.

Yes? She said almost sarcastically.

Why did you do that? You could’ve hurt me.

No, she said leaning in a bit, her eyes narrowing. If I wanted to hurt you, my foot would’ve landed on you.

Good point, I thought to myself. But why would she….HEY!!! What are you doing? I asked as she grabbed me between her thumb and index finger lifting me up.

I just wanted to see something so you’d better hang on Jim.

And with that she stretched out her arm and placed me at the tip of her second toe and I wrapped my arms around it holding on for dear life. She flexed her toes back and forth, sometimes fast and hard, sometimes rubbing them together. She raised her foot off of the table and began going higher and higher until I was dangling from it. I shouted at her to stop. I was losing my grip. But she continued until I could hold on no longer. I was free-falling and all I saw were her toes above getting farther and farther away when suddenly I landed on a soft, black cushion. It was her skirt.

She looked down at me and began laughing. She said I looked so funny with my little arms waving like I was trying to fly or something. I looked up at her, tears streaming down my face, scared shitless, hyperventilating, my whole body felt like it was on shutdown. I could not speak or move. The only thing that did work were my eyes. They shifted from left to right, up and down, I felt so light-headed, so weak-kneed that I eventually fell face first into her skirt and passed out.

I woke up about thirty minutes later still on her skirt. She was looking at me, waiting for my eyes to open. I began sitting up when she reached for me. My body tensed up as I saw her massive hand come towards me. It looked like a building with tentacles as it neared. I tried to escape but all I did was slip and slide on her silk skirt. She grabbed me, slowly she brought me up to her massive face and smiled. I know she stared at me for five minutes before speaking to me and during that time I stared back as intently as I could.

I am glad we have this time alone to talk, she softly whispered, almost cooing.

Uh, could we possibly talk with me on the table, I asked.

We could, but I prefer you like you are, in my hand. She said with a smirk on her face.

And why is that? If you don’t mind me asking.

This way, you don’t try to walk away from me or look in the opposite direction while I’m talking to you. That’s why, Jim.

I’m very uncomfortable like this…in your hand…I mean…you’re squeezing me a bit too tightly.

And think of how much tighter I could squeeze you. Tight enough that your eyes would bulge. Make you stop breathing. And possibly, even tight enough that you’d explode into a gooey mess. Or I could loosen my grip just a bit, like this. See, now you’re much more comfortable, you can breath easily now, right?

Yes ma’am, I answered.

Very good Jim, you do have manners. I never heard you use them before.

That’s because you always sit on the couch with my dad and never pay me any attention.

Oh, I pay you plenty of attention. I look to see where you are, what you are doing, and even to see if you leave your little house and venture out across the carpet. And do you know why I wait for you to leave your house?

N…NO…NO I DON’T!

I had this thought. She said tunefully.

A thought? I asked dumbly.

What it would feel like to have you rubbing my feet for me. And if you’re real good, I’ll even let you paint them as well.

I…I…I don’t know about that. I’d…I mean…I would have to ask my dad first.

She smiled. I mean, it was such a beautiful smile. She opened her hand and told me to sit in her palm, I did so. She began rubbing my back with the tip of her finger. Her fingernail lightly scratching me as she did so. It felt so good. I was so relaxed by this point I would’ve done anything she asked just so she wouldn’t stop. She finally saw the effect it was having on me and then she said in a soft whisper: men always rub a ladies feet for them after a hard days work. It’s all part of life. Women take care of their men, and, in return, they do little things like buy them flowers and candy, give them massages, and kiss them to show their appreciation. Like now, I’m rubbing your back without talking to your dad first, and in return, you could rub my feet, understand?

It was as if her words had hypnotized me. The back rub she had given me felt soooooo wonderful. I mean, I was actually relaxed and aroused at the same time. I liked the feeling. It was an experience I had never had before, and I wanted it again.

OK…I said, I’ll do it. Seems like a fair trade off to me. A back rub for a foot rub. If only I had known how long it would take to rub a size 8 foot. Make that two size 8 feet.

She smiled at me and put me down on the table just as my dad entered the drive. She held her finger to her lips and said it was our little secret and not to tell or else she wouldn’t be able to rub my back anymore. I agreed and never told anyone.