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Thuds. Thuds were how to describe her steps. As George lay deep inside her musty flat, the simple beige shoes sitting next to her bed, he listened to the powerful thuds of her step as she busily prepared for her morning. George knew the subtleties of her steps: the muffled characteristics they took when she walked on the shag carpet in her room, the echoes that they produced when she left her cosy abode and ventured into the hallway. Learning the sounds of her steps was one of George's hobbies now, his life devoid of much purpose when he wasn't being played with. George dropped all pretences of what he thought of Laura now, before he had denied it, excused it, but now he realised that he developed a school boy crush on the giantess, her personality and appearance intoxicating to him. He enjoyed these times that he could be around her without having to participate in some game of hers, usually an excuse for his punishment. As for Laura, she had all but forgotten of her possession, much too focused on her current task of preparing for her day, and her test. After a restless night she was still hesitant about it, she was so stupid to let it drop from her mind as she enjoyed her weekend. Laura wouldn't be reminded of the existence of her trainee until she slipped on a pair of beige flats, feeling a foreign body under her toes. George also felt a foreign body, this being the monstrous foot of Laura slipping into his abode, greedily nesting him beneath her meaty toes, smelling of lavender soap. Laura rolled her eyes as she recognised what this was, and that she would have to babysit her slave for the day after originally not planning on bringing him with her. Never the less she rushed out the door and into her car, George shaken with each step she took, the speed and sudden directional changes sickening. He felt like he was lost in an ever shifting maze of toes and flesh, the darkness eclipsing everything as he shifted around, Laura only half attempting to not crush him. George made no intense movements, he knew that resistance was futile. He considered licking or otherwise trying to please his owner, hopefully for which he would be rewarded, or at least spared from a more advance punishment. The shoe stowaway feeling empty as he realised what he had just considered, he knew that he had a taboo desire for Laura, but still didn't particularly enjoy being her personal bitch. Relieved from the constant motion when she got in her car, George was slid down to rest on the ball of her foot, the slight gap between the sole of her foot and the sole of the shoe threatening to pull him down unless he clambered between her toes for purchase, which he did. Inside her shoe, Laura could feel George respond to the slight movements of her muscles whenever she pressed on the accelerator or the brakes, shaking him too and fro. She was ambivalent to this, she hadn't planned on bringing George with her, so she didn't care if he was here or not anyway. Of course Laura loved to play around with the shrinkies, something she viewed as harmless; it was their role in life, right? Laura had originally offered to train George for Sarah because she hated the way he was treating her so disrespectfully, it was her duty to make him obedient, so what was the harm if she had fun on the way? She had no clue that the very toy she tortured was beginning to fall for her, that she could be so loved and so hated by the same person, that her very existence made George's mind recoil in hate and anger and love. She simply drove along, feeling him shift in her shoe.

Laura's felt drops of fresh sweat condense on her brow as she stared at the characters on the piece of paper. She gripped the wooden pencil and fiddled with it as her brain worked over the first question, the gears deep within chugging on silently. With a trembling hand she filled in one of the bubbles adjacent to a line, deeming it the correct answer. She moved onto the next, her heart racing and the vapour that surrounded her growing thicker with stress. Of course, these things were well felt by the straggler deep with her beige flat, cowering in the small gap between the bulbous ends of her toes and her sole. The dark was silent other than the very faint sound of external ambience and a rushing heart beat tirelessly delivering blood to her toes. Laura was wracked with uncertainty with each question, fiddling with her pencil in her hands stressfully. Unconsciously she began to toy with George under her toes, clenching them to press him hard into the shoe sole. George's purpose was degraded to "stress relief" for the giant woman, the movements of her toes not entirely conscious, and only partially realising of the tiny thing. Her body, growing bored of using George as exercise for her toe tendons, began to shake her leg. George was shaken up and down at an incredible pace, painfully contacting the hard sole and her toes. Laura began to take notice of the pebble in her shoe, distracting her from the test. She was becoming frustrated now, she needed to focus, but George was distracting her. If hadn't brought him this would be so much easier she thought to herself, aware that she was scapegoating him. She slipped her foot out of her flat, the air tickling her moist sole. Light beginning to filter in, the monolith of her foot still blocking the majority to the sweaty slave, but still like a sign from the gods, or perhaps singular goddess. Sliding her slender fingers into the prison, she prodded until she felt the touch of her toy under her fingers, retrieving him. He was hot and slightly moist in her hands, but she really needed him out of there to focus. Holding him below the desk, out of sight of any moderators, she considered what to do with him. George looked up at her pink face bewilderdly, her brown hair and matching eyes as stunning as ever. God, he was absolutely smitten, this was insane, he thought. Making a decision, she opened her maw and quickly pushed George into it, ignoring the slight taste of sweat on his body. 

In the dark George was swung around by her giant muscle, the studded surface slick with thick saliva. Eventually he came to rest lying next to her molars, the twitching of her tongue not dislodging him. He took in a stale breath, the only air he could get being second hand or the tiniest of wisps that filtered in from her nose. He was totally coated in toothpaste scented saliva, thanking her that it didn't smell any worse. Laura tried to put George out of her mind, pretending he was a piece of chewing gum or hard candy. The "piece of candy" lay as still as possible, occasionally disturbed when her tongue would hit into him mindlessly. It was so surreal, being inside the warm cave of her mouth, the sound of air being sucked into her lungs and back through he nose like a gale force wind. As she continue down her the question, she began to suck on George like he was a hard candy, positioning him and washing over him with buckets of saliva, being sure her tongue braced him tightly against the wall of her mouth as she did. Saliva flowed over him in uncountable amounts, coating him in a thick gooey layer. He was struggling to breath under the warm goo, mentally pleading with her to stop, but she wouldn't, not until she wanted to. Finally she stopped, stopping her sucking and allowing him rest, which he did by sucking down the thin air in her moist, cavernous maw. It was to much celebration that Laura filled in the last bubble of her test, her wrist relaxing as she took a deep sigh, the cold air passing over George as he lay in her mouth, desperately he sucked it down. Laura handed up the paper and left the test room, George shaken in her mouth with each step. 

"If you weren't in my shoe distracting me I could have finished that so much faster, what the fuck were you thinking being in there?" she asked, ignoring the fact that she had put him there. "Furthermore, if I hadn't had to train you the whole weekend I would have had time to study! But nooo you had to be such a little prick to Sarah, didn't you?" Laura continued yell at George in her palm, each terrifying word she spouted making him recoil in fear. Eventually Laura stopped her diatribe, sighing, she knew that George wasn't to blame, it was completely her fault, she just needed to yell at someone, and George, being so meek, was the perfect candidate. To some degree George knew this too, it was likely why she wasn't currently crushing him, she knew it wasn't really his fault. "I need a fucking run." she said to herself as she shoved the terrified tiny into her pocket. She drove home to change into her running gear and have a quick lunch, and in no time she was at the track, already the memories of the morning's test fading away. She was filling with the same playful cruelty that she was going to direct towards her captive. "Okay, George, after distracting me all morning, we both need to clear our heads. What better way than to go for a few laps?" She kneeled down with him held tight in her hand, closing in on her reds sports shoes, the very same she had wore to the gym a few days earlier. These weren't what she was interested in however, instead she would be utilising the brown anklet she had fastened to this particular ankle as a torture device. With a few tough threads Laura's stress relief was fastened by his hands and feet to the brown fashion accessory, dangling just over the pale hemisphere of her lateral malleolus. Confidently smiling down, she took a few careful steps to a white marking on the deep red ground, each time her foot contacted the ground bouncing George against her skin. She took position, crouching down, hands on the ground. George's heart was beating, this wasn't going to be comfortable. With the sound of an imaginary starting pistol she was off, her trained muscles expertly propelling her forward with incredible speed. Everything was a blur to George, the surroundings rushing by to fast, he couldn't move after his legs and arms were so tightly bound, and each time her colossal shoe contacted the ground he was gifted a glimpse of the ground as he was stationary for less than a second. The endless thudding beat him into her smooth skin, each time more painful than the last, resurrecting old bruises on his skin, one which had only just disappeared. Wind whipped past him painfully, the roaring sound only drowned out by the contact on the ground. He couldn't think, his entire life was consumed by her movements, he tried to look up the infinite pink stretch of her leg but it only made him nauseous. She was speeding up, the time her foot contacted the ground too fast to see, all he was feeling was the contact against her hot skin. The wind was so fast he struggled to suck down the air, the blast of chilling air stinging his face. Finally she broke out into a sprint, the speed incredible. George felt like he was going to explode, the sudden changes of direction each time she would kick up her leg jolting all the organs in his body. Each time the monstrous red shoe landed with its Earth shattering crush and he was beat into her leg he squealed a tiny, inaudible squeal, the force so great as to knock the tiniest fragments of air he managed to store in his lungs out. Finally, as George felt he would pop he felt himself decelerating, finally snapped back into the real world, he realised he was unbelievably dizzy, and felt he was going to vomit at any second.

George had continued to be strapped to the brown rope of her anklet until they were home, Laura dripping with sweat the entire car ride home. Already she was feeling better, the test a bad memory. She unbuckled her toy from her ankle, he fell the short distance onto the table with a painful thud. He stretched his aching wrists as she kicked off her shoes, exposing the white socks that gripped tightly into the ridges of her feet with sweat, pulling them off and unleashing their stench upon the glass table. George crawled over to her feet and began to rub her heels, even with his weak wrists. Laura watched on approvingly, she had trained him well, she could probably return him right now if she wanted to, but that could wait, right now she was being pampered. George was broken, the traumatic run sticking in his mind, even worse, his crush on Laura burned his heart. He looked up at her, his owner, trainer, tormentor, and felt a bubble in his stomach, the same thing he had felt for his girlfriend before. He rubbed deep into her aching soles, desperate for relief from their run, at the expense of his relaxation afterwords. The agony built up in George, his lust for Laura, his burning desire for her, he needed her love, he craved it so bad. The run had scattered his brain, it was a loose mess, without any coherent thoughts, it was know that George was the bravest he had ever been, he reasoned that he was already the lowest he could possibly be, that he had nothing to lose, that even the faintest sliver of hope was worth it. He stepped out from rubbing her heel, dripping with sweat, and stood between her feet as she played on her phone. Taking a deep breath, he opened his mouth, the words struggling to escape his mouth, both from nervousness and his atrophied vocal chords. Eventually, he coughed out the words. "Laura!"

The brunette looked up, shocked to see him talking, this was most unexpected. "What?" she cocked her eye brow, usually she would have crushed him or beat him or something cruel, a punishment for talking out of turn, but she had already deemed him fit for her friend, and was honestly curious to how this was going.

"Laura..." he send again, the curiosity of the giantess only increasing. "I... I... I love you."

Chapter End Notes:

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