By now, Sam only longed for rest from this topsy-turvy molestation. Hell, Sam would’ve been content remaining inside Rachel’s shoe all day, if only she would stop moving and tempting his god-forsaken body to orgasm. However, it was clearly not to be, as no sooner had his erection wilted, when the apparently insatiable incher’s member stood back up. This time, Rachel’s foot had cupped the leather heel back around it, and was resting stock-still on the ground, with no interference on Sam’s body but for the usual constant of her sole skin bearing down on his front while her nylon fibers held fast to his back like reptile scales. Yet he had his fourth boner of the day.
Sam tried wriggling onto his side, despite the soreness and weight on his sides, if only to relieve his dick from springing to life. But it did nothing. With the full brunt of Rachel’s multi-colored and toejam-grained arch weighing Sam down, and the nude nylon smeared out flat, there was no way to turn aside without inflicting great pain on his fragile body. The little man was helpless then as, without a single twitch from the giant foot above him, nor aid of any kind except for the natural lubricant of Rachel’s foot sweat caked between her sole wrinkles, he came again. If anything, the force of his orgasm was getting more potent. He wasn’t tiring of forced sexual activity, though he certainly felt that way; his body was instead becoming like a miniature machine, whose only purpose was to fire microscopic spunk against an infinite and unforgiving foot belonging to the world’s most hypocritical lawyer.
On the ninth consecutive climax, Sam was at least treated to another ray of light as Rachel dangled her heel again, this time from the perch of a crossed leg. Of course, the relief of oxygen and sight was nigh-meaningless, as he’d now been accidentally raped so many times by the giantess’s stocking-clad foot alone, Sam would’ve been just as unhappy while blind and deaf inside an iron lung.
“Who knew you had so much in you. I’m really very impressed. No wonder you’ve had so many people come after you before,” Rachel murmured. “Don’t mind me coming into your new home. I just need to take care of something, and then I’ll leave you alone again.”
It took a minute for the despondent inch-tall man to realize she was talking to him. He couldn’t quite make out her face, but the woman angled her ankle just far enough that she could slide a finger between the V-cusp of shoe lip and instep slope to “take care of” whatever it was she meant. At first, Sam was fooled into thinking she might tug the nylon away long enough for him to escape the pull of her sole and grant his cock a recess, but rather, she merely pressed a polished fingernail against the nyloned bulwark of her sole just above the little guy’s head. From there, her cuticle began caressing the skin hard, obviously scratching a long-dormant itch. Instead of loosening the stocking from around Sam’s body, it instead tightened. The warm, grainy layer of almost-invisible legwear was stretched so thin it all but vanished from sight, but the shrunken man felt its painful presence at his back. It dug at his skin. He was hugged so flush to Rachel’s body that he could feel the shape of his limbs conforming to the pillowy wall like memory foam. He was squeezed so hard, there was practically no discernible shape in the sea of nylon separating his body from the geometry of his lawyer’s tortuous, mouth-watering foot. Sam was essentially integrated with his tormentor’s foot. Above, Rachel sipped from a bottle of iced tea with one hand and thumbed at her instep with the other.
While Sam grunted with agony into the nearest sole wrinkle, the giantess yawned, and callously enjoyed the reprieve from her foot’s itching problem. Once thoroughly satisfied she’d scratched away the irritant, the lawyer continued rubbing her fingernail up and down her sole just for good measure, then at last let go. Sam didn’t have long to enjoy the slack in the nylon, though, before he and Rachel heard a knock at the office door. With instinctive speed, the woman stomped into the ground, which not only slammed her foot back inside its container, but swiftly and cruelly veiled her tiny client again from the outside world. Just as she did, the door’s handle turned.
“August?” Rachel said. She smiled, and stared down the woman she’d recently faced off against in a court of law.
“Ms. Morrow?” Sure enough, the fair-haired blonde stepped through the door, sporting a fashionable pair of ivory hair sticks coiled through her bun. She gave her glasses a tweak over the bridge of her nose. Marching across the office space, her backless leather clogs thumped mutedly on her nylon-cupped heels and soles. Slender and professional, yet effortlessly glamorous despite the constraints of workplace attire, the up-and-coming lawyer reminded Rachel a lot of herself. Especially after she’d gracefully accepted Sam’s scot-free ruling, when obviously, Katelyn should’ve taken the man for everything he had; they both knew what injustice looked like.
“C’mon. We’ve been through enough meetings together. Just call me Rachel.”
“Fine, Rachel,” August smiled back. “Marsha gave you the message that I was coming by?”
“Yes, she did. Why don’t you make yourself comfortable?” Rachel indicated to the chair across from her desk. She stood briefly, extending a hand to shake August’s, and though she was externally focused on the greeting, Rachel savored the brief lurch of an inch-tall lump at the center of her sole receiving an unexpected and heavy load of flesh. Despite what must have been a fairly smarting blow to his person, the impact still inspired Sam’s tenth orgasm, thanks to Larissa’s magic words. What a little sucker.
The women took their seats, and each crossed their legs beneath the desk, modest black skirts covering just enough of their stockinged legs. Even if August Turner was technically her opponent during the Sam Bennett case, by representing Katelyn, Rachel had nothing but sympathy and understanding for the other side. Particularly after the day she’d spent with Sam today. The brunette couldn’t help but smirk to herself at the thought that she had the object of August and Katelyn’s ire snagged down in her pump, using and abusing Sam to relax herself and teach him a lesson he’d never forget.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” Rachel asked, folding her hands over her lap.
“Just so you know, there’s no cause for alarm by my coming here today. We’re not pursuing any additional action, now that the sentencing is over,” August reassured. Her fingers idly played with the thicker tuft of nylon where the fabric bunched at the back of her knee, plucking it like a harp string. “This is just an informal meeting.”
“But not an informal visit, I take it.”
“No, not just a visit, though I have really enjoyed our meetings, even if it was under unfortunate circumstances.”
“Thank you. I feel the same,” Rachel said. “Now, how can I help you today?”
“My business with Katelyn is finished now. She elected to sever all ties with our firm after we lost the case, cutting off all attorney-client privilege. Because of that, you can consider everything I’m about to say outside the books,” August continued. She cleared her throat. “Did you… happen to, by chance, see Mr. Sam Bennett today?”
Rachel froze, but her expression didn’t change. She smiled again. “Oh, August. You know I’d need a very good reason to discuss any meetings I may or may not have had with a current client. Do you have a very good reason to give me?”
“Quite possibly.” August didn’t speak up again immediately, but rather reached below the desk. Curious, Rachel leaned forward, until she could see through the distorted glass image to the floor, where the stately blonde lawyer was now fumbling with her left clog. She scooped it off her foot, and outstretched her nyloned leg. Her toes grasped at the bouncy fabric, snatching it in the doughy crevices, then released again as she set the ball of her foot to the carpet. From there, she inserted her thumbs into the hem of her stocking where it wrapped over her pale thigh, and commenced rolling it down her shapely limb.
Rachel was caught off-guard, but because her whole day had been so peculiar, beginning with Sam’s shrinkage and most recently with Larissa’s mysteriously beneficial paper slip, she didn’t object. Silently, the two women sat together until August had rolled her nude nylon all the way down her leg. Balling it up into a gossamer cluster, she shoved the garment inside the wide mouth of her black clog, then leaned back in the chair. With all the confidence in the world, August hoisted up her newly-freed bare foot, still slightly pink and pattern-lined from a day-long compression inside stockings. Once she’d set her petite ped up upon the glass surface of the desk, however, the surprise of her partial disrobing was quickly overshadowed by what Rachel saw between her toes.
It was unmistakably a little man, roughly Sam’s size, and pinched expertly between August’s thick-bulbed big toe and lanky second digit.