Escorting high profile criminals was never something Michael has intended on doing as a career. In a way, it sort of just fell into his lap after doing several tours in the Middle East. One connection led to the next, and now he was here, his seventh transfer of a criminal in the lovely country of Brazil. The contracts always paid handsomely and although dangerous, Michael had never found himself in a situation that required lethal force. A couple close calls, but that was it. At this point he was beginning to wonder if his presence was even necessary for these transfers, but it didn’t matter as long as they provided him with a paycheck. Besides, he got to keep a clear conscious of making sure criminals made their way to prison.

He watched as a white van slowly came to a halt next to his own before sliding the side door open. Several men emerged and snatched the detainee from the backseat. Dressed in a green jumpsuit with some white slip on shoes and a black bag overhead, it was clear who was the prisoner. The more notable feature of the prisoner was his size. Michael has never seen a person so large, and it took all the other men to forcefully throw him into the back seat of his own car. Michael wasn’t sure how he was supposed to manage such a person if things got out of hand. A drop off, sure...escorting this person through a fire fight, however, would definitely be a challenge. Especially since handcuffs were grasping both ankles and wrists alike.

The car shook from the impact of the body in the back. No words were exchanged, and the captors were clearly finished with their part. All that was left was for Michael to complete the drop off. He stepped on the gas and began his route, keeping alert for any unusual activity on the road. The roads were quit in the city and eventually he snaked his way through the city without any hiccups. A feeling of relief washed over him as he looked at the city skyline in his rear view mirror. There was nothing but an old empty highway between him and the drop off. The long stretch of road was clear and vacant, meaning no one could surprise him without him noticing far beforehand. The drop off location was a small abandoned house only 50 miles up the road. From there he would hand over the prisoner to the authorities where they would then take the prisoner to an undisclosed location. 

Michael zoned out as he continued the drive. The land was flat with little to look at. The sun was nearly down and there was absolutely no one in eyeshot. He began to relax even more, knowing yet again, the contract was nearly done. 

*pop* 

The loud explosion echoed into the car, and the wheel suddenly jerked to the side, nearly causing Michael to lose control. He gripped it tightly, slamming on the brakes while veering to the side of the road. The moment of terror ended as the car came to an abrupt halt. Dust from the road clouded the air as Michael scanned for a potential threat with his weapon drawn. Nothing. He reached for the handle and burst from the door, circling the car and his surroundings. His confusion was put to rest when he looked at the tire. It was popped and no longer usable. He quickly popped the trunk, only to find the absence of a spare tire.

Fuck. 

Of all things to happen on a deserted road, Michael couldn’t believe his luck. He slammed the trunk closed and cursed several more times, now trying to assess his options. The drop off was only a few miles away. It was realistically walkable and that seemed to be the best option currently. Frustrated, Michael threw open the back door and pointed his gun at the prisoner who was fidgeting in discomfort.

“Listen to me,” Michael began, “ I need you to get out of the car. Do not say a fucking word to me. Your only job is to follow my directions. If that proves difficult I will put a bullet in your head without hesitation. Now slide towards me and get out.”

The prisoner complied with his request, and quickly made their way out of the car before standing to their full height. Michael was even more shocked than before. The person must have been nine and half feet tall and easily dwarfed his meager height of 5’8’’. There was absolutely no chance of risking a fight with this person, he thought, raising a gun unknowingly to the prisoner. 

“Alright start walking straight. I’ll tell you left or right if I need you to move in a different direction.” 

Michael paced several yards behind, continuously scanning the area for any threats. His eyes squinted and his finger kept near to the trigger, anticipating something to go wrong. For miles they walked, as the sun began to lower behind a nearby range. His stress level heightened as visibility decreased. Despite knowing the location of the drop off, Michael had underestimated the time still needed to get their on foot. A couple hours finally passed before Michael spotted the familiar road on the right. He continued to direct the prisoner down the road and to the small house at the end of the small road. Even with the low visibility, it was clear no one was there. He may have missed the window.

Sure enough, Michael opened the door to find it vacant. He called out into the darkness, hoping for an unexpected answer.

“Hello!? Anybody here?” 

Nothing. Michael looked as his watch and back at the towering prisoner who was still waiting at the door for further instructions. Without a backup plan or an idea of what to do next, the least they could do was rest. He made his way back to the entrance, pointing a gun at the captive, and gave his instructions.

“Duck down and move this way.” He said, pushing a hand into the backside of the prisoner. He could tell his push did little else other than notify the prisoner he needed them to move. 

He sat the prisoner down on an old couch and eyed him for a brief moment, figuring out what would be best. He usually made them barefoot to discourage running away even more so he figured he’d start there.

“Lift your legs.” He demanded.

The lengthy legs rose up, allowing him to pop each of the gigantic shoes away from the prisoners feet. The boats were the biggest feet of anyone he’d ever met, and it was a chore just lifting each one. He then grabbed the socks at the heels and slid them up and off the toes when he noticed something peculiar. The nails were painted and well kept. Not exactly typical of a male. Michael immediately reach for the bag and removed it from the prisoners head, which revealed an unexpected beauty underneath. The woman had darker hair and an innocent face with fair skin. She looked harmless and even more helpless with the duct tape over her mouth. He was a bit awe struck when suddenly the legs from under him were roughly swept away. 

Michael hit the ground with a hard thud and his firearm bounced on the floor several feet away. His instincts kicked in as he raced to the nearby gun. His hand was nearly there when an enormous foot planted itself firmly onto his arm, pinning it to the floor. He winced in pain from the weight of the prisoner and was about to throw a fist when her other foot came crashing down onto his head, smashing his face violently into the floorboard, stunning him momentarily. The sole of her foot remained firmly planted on the side of his head as Michael struggled to fight back. With his head and outreached arm pinned against the floor, his mobility was limited and certainly not enough to ward off his attacker. 

“I suggest you stop trying to fight back and give me what I want before I squish your little head like a grape.” A feminine voice rang out from above.

Her words were stern and her actions even louder as the pressure on his head became unbearable. It truly felt like his head would pop if she continued to press down any further. The sole of her foot was molding to his face, and the air around him began to fill with the scent of her foot. It was time to submit, or risk being killed.

“Okay, okay! What do you want?” He asked desperately.

“For starters. I want the key to these restraints.”

“If you get your foot off of me, I can grab them.” He argued, hoping to relieve some pressure from his head. 

There was a momentary pause, before the amazon lifted her foot from his head. Michael lifted himself up slightly, taking the opportunity to catch some fresh air. His left hand reach into a small pocket on his upper chest, searching for the key he had so meticulously hidden. He pinched the small handcuff key between his fingers and offered it back to the prisoner who eagerly snatched it from his hand.She quickly unlocked each of the restraints from her wrist and then again for the cuffs on her ankles. Michael took the opportunity of her distraction to reach for the hidden firearm on his lower leg. He greatly underestimated the reaction speed of the giant woman and who greeted him with an unpleasant kick to the hand reaching for the weapon. The heavy blow sent the firearm sliding across the room and a helpless Michael unable to defend himself. 

Furious, the woman stepped away, freeing Michael’s arm finally, but the freedom was only momentary as she unloaded another fearsome kick to Michael’s chest. The impact of her foot felt like a train had just struck him, flipping him onto his back. He struggled to regain his breath as the amazon approached him yet again. Michael looked up in horror to see the sole of her foot hovering above him. His pathetic moan was all that could escape before her foot stamped down firmly onto his throat.

The enormous ped easily spanned the width of his body and then some. His neck tucked neatly under her arch as she began to apply more pressure, cutting any oxygen from entering his body. With a hand on her heel and the other around several of her toes, Michael made every effort to push the appendage from his throat. His failed attempt did little else other than entertain the giant woman who looked down with a grin and laughed. 

“Let me tell you something. It’s over. I’m the one in charge and you are nothing but a pawn to me until I figure the next move.” She began. “Do you even know who I am?”

Michael had no idea who she was or what she did. His only knowledge of her was that the government wanted her imprisoned. His silence didn’t impress the woman.

“Well that’s disappointing. It seems you are little more than a mercenary roaming unintelligibly around a country as broken as ours. I am Dr. Zaracova, but you can can call me Amy. And are you wondering yet why they want me captured?” She asked him. Michael remained silent, wanting nothing more to do with the giant woman. “Well I guess that’s a no.” 

Michael trembled as he watched the giant woman reach down for the discarded restraints on the floor. Soon he felt her hands harshly snatch his legs, lifting them slightly before wrapping the restraints around his own ankles and cinching them closed. The foot on his head finally lifted, allowing Michael to breathe with ease once again, as she paced around the room. Amy peered through the windows out to her surroundings and then again back at Michael. Obviously some plan was brewing in her head as to what to do next. She took a few steps back towards Michael and grabbed the guns from the floor before throwing out the front door as far as she could. 

“Never did like guns. They always seem to do more harm than good.” She commented before making her way to one of the bedrooms.

Michael listened as the sound of metal scratching against a wooden floor echoed through the home. Amy had grabbed the entire bed including the frame and finagled it out of the room before entering the other bedroom. She set it down next to the other bed and looked at her work with satisfaction. She brushed the dirt from her hands and then took a seat on the bed. 

“This should make it long enough for me. I feel like I haven’t had a good days rest since they kidnapped me last week.” She said, sliding herself back until her feet were off the floor, exposing her soles to Michael once more. “Why don’t you come make yourself useful and massage my feet.”

Michael looked at her repulsed. The last thing he imagined himself being subjected to was massaging his prisoner’s feet. Clearly the tables had turned, he thought while slowly and timidly approaching the end of her bed. Despite her size, her feet seemed to be well taken care of and had few if any blemishes on the bottoms of her feet. No noticeable callouses, or dry skin. Her soles were slightly red with a milky white arch, which led up to her finger-length toes. Michael had his work cut out for him with these behemoths. Her feet fidgeted impatiently, awaiting Michael’s touch. Her hints didn’t go unnoticed as he dragged a chair to the end of the bed and reach out to grab her left foot. It took both of his hands to encompass the circumference of her appendage and some firm digging with his thumbs to give the woman any sort of satisfaction.

“Harder, little man.” 

The trained mercenary pressed with all his might, digging deeper into the giant woman’s sole. He watched as Amy’s eyes closed, and her body relaxed. She wiggled around in bed, hoping to find a more comfortable spot. Her eyes occasionally peaked open to watch Michael continue his deed. The amazon wiggled her feet impatiently once more. 

“Something doesn’t feel right. You need some oil, or lotion, or something.” She blurted.

He looked around at the abandoned shack, not expecting to find anything. As predicted, there was nothing at hand he could use to his advantage to ameliorate the situation. He shot glances at her foot and then back at the room around him, trying to piece together a possible solution. Maybe he could use water, he thought. No, too cold. His thumbs grew wary as he continued to press them as firmly as he could into the underbelly of her feet. 

“Maybe that tongue of yours could help?” She laughed, while kicking a foot up near his face. 

Michael flinched backwards, hoping to put distance between his face and her gigantic feet. Her amusement was repulsive to him and he hoped to god she was joking about using his tongue. 

“Well…?” She asked, looking down towards him, her eyes no longer resting. “I’ve never had a man suck on my toes before. Would you do the honors?” 

The blood in Michael’s veins froze. Never once had he put anyone’s foot in his mouth, and surely not for their enjoyment. Was she simply tormenting him or was she entertaining herself with this game?  She waved her foot in front of his face, fanning her toes once more in an attempt to persuade some action from the smaller man. All he could do was shake is head in disgust and decline the unsavory offer. “No, I’m not doing that.”

“Well now I’m not asking. I’m telling you to.”  She barked back.

Michael had little time to react before the woman exerted her power once more. The massive appendage lurched forward into his chest, toppling his chair, and sending him flailing to the floor. The amazon stood above her defiant masseuse, glaring down at his feeble body. The thought of crushing him underfoot sent tingles down her spine, but unfortunately that would ruin her fun.  Regardless, she would have to make her point clear: she was in charge now, not him. With one swift motion, Amy planted the sole of her foot squarely onto Michael’s face, leaving his tiny head tucked perfectly under her arch like a puzzle piece. She could feel his warm breath expelling from his lungs and onto the sensitive surface of her arch. She subtly pressed down, smothering the entrance of his oxygen supply.

“Now, Mr. Army Man. What were you saying?”

Muffled sounds came from underfoot as he attempted to answer her question. Amy assumed he had come to his senses and lifted her foot several inches away, allowing him to speak once more.

“Sorry, I didn’t hear what you said.” She stated stoically.

“I said okay I’ll do it.” 

“Do what?” She asked, wanting him to hear him say it aloud. 

“I’ll…uhh…I’ll suck your toes.” He said unenthusiastically.

“Good, well why don’t you work your way up to them first.” She retorted, while positioning her heel just above his mouth.

The truth was that this wasn’t the first time she would have her toes sucked. Nor would it be the last. In fact, she rather enjoyed the event of having her feet worshipped. There was something special about having men pamper her feet. Especially the ones who had thought they were powerful. The moment these men realized they were nothing to her but a servant was the same moment Amy could feel a wave of ecstasy rush through her body. Numerous memories flooded her mind as she prepared for the feeling of the tiny man’s lips against her heel. Most of her prior victims were prominent leaders, with a few low-lifes in between. This would be the first time a trained killer would find himself underfoot.

Her military escort poked his tongue out in readiness for his task. Amy lowered her heel until a familiar sense embraced her eager skin. Michael lapped at her heel, covering the surface as best he could. Amy was surprised at his fervor to fulfill his task and wasted no time in slowly gliding her foot downward, allowing him to ascend the length of her foot. Amy could feel Michael’s tongue run dry as he crossed the half way point. It made sense given the length of her foot. Undoubtedly they were nearly twice the length of most women’s feet. There was a brief pause as Michael wet his tongue once more like a quill with much needed ink. The moistened tongue continued is glide upward until finally reaching the base of her toes. 

Amy’s anticipation of the servant’s tongue between her toes was instead greeted by nothingness with Michael pulling his head back and away from her foot. She took the moment to playfully press her toes against his face, sandwiching his tiny nose between her  toes which looked comically long, taking up the upper half of his face. Michael’s arms shot up in protest as she gently smothered his face against the undersides of her toes.

“Let’s see if you can multitask. Why don’t you massage my foot while you suck on those delicious toes, “ she teased while dragging her toes down his lips until the tips of her toes rested lightly against his chin.

The little man finally opened his mouth, knowing it was inevitable at this point to escape the torture. Amy smiled as she slowly slid her biggest toe between his lips and deep into his mouth. The gradual descent continued until Michael’s mouth was filled with the large digit and his lips had no choice but to wrap around the girth of her toe, causing his lips to press into the cleavage of her toes. The sensual experience was making her wet, unbeknownst to the tiny man. The feelings of is thumbs running through her arch as he gracefully sucked each of her toes like a lollipop was more than enough to make her lady parts throb. Unfortunately for him, he would never know the extent of satisfaction his servitude was creating. 

“That’s right you little peasant. Suck each of my fucking toes.” 

Amy lifted the other foot, not wanting the fun to end as he repeated his task to her complementary side. This was the best anyone had ever done, and truthfully, it was the most she had ever enjoyed it. It almost seemed natural to him.  As she pondered his future, the amazon decided she would spare the man’s life. An unusual outcome for moments like these. He had held her at gun point, threatened her, tried to escape, and was even defiant to her demands. It was his lucky day. 

Amy planted a foot firmly against his torso while her toes drummed against his chest, occasionally scrunching and pulling against the shirt on his body. They glided back and forth, traversing his entirety of his frame until finally finding what they were searching for. Michael’s hand was suddenly pinched between her two longest toes. It took using all of his fingers to firmly grasp her big toe. Amy’s foot bobbed up and down, as though shaking “hands” with Michael. 

“It was nice to meet you Michael. Play nice from now on.”