Riding in Lana’s stocking was not nearly as unpleasant as I expected. The breeze riding up between her thighs helped offset the heat of her body, and every step with her right leg made a vibration run up it, giving me a brief massage as it passed through me. I could even move a little bit despite the tight, restrictive nylon that came up to my neck. To keep my mind occupied I looked down, watching her shoes billow out with each step she took and counting the tiles she glided over with each long stride.
That is, until she reached the stairs. Her footfalls were much harder then, like she was stomping, and I involuntarily yelped with each one. They were louder too, heavy crashes replacing the gentle clicks from before, and instead of massaging me the vibrations rattled my bones and made my vision shake. To make matters worse, her stockings were not tight enough with me in them to keep me in place with the added force, and I sank entirely into it. Gradually the nylon gobbled me up like quicksand, each stair sucking me down a few millimeters more. By the time her descent was over I was completely past the tight band at the top with the nylon mesh holding me like a large, tremendously snug bag.
Forced down from my lofty perch, my achingly slow fall along her leg continued. Every click of Lana’s shoe slid me a little further toward the floor, and the vibrations got stronger the closer I got to them. When I got below the hem of her skirt I could see the world beyond, though the view was dark and somewhat cloudy, like I was wearing fogged sunglasses. I could see the legs of coworkers passing by, completely oblivious to my presence. No one was going to look close enough at Lana’s inner thigh to notice the tiny bulge I made, much less guess what was making it.
For a while I tried to fight the force, digging my hands into the mesh and pulling myself up as far as I could. My efforts ended up being in vain. Regardless of how much progress I made the next time Lana set her foot down erased all of it and more, dropping me another millimeter or so. After several seconds of disappointment and setback I decided to save my still abundant energy for whatever tests she was going to run and gave up.
The slow, inexorable descent toward the floor must have been similar to what I would have seen if I had been conscious while shrinking. Little by little everyone seemed a bit taller and I was closer to the bases of objects I interacted with earlier that day but were now much too gargantuan for me to use. I tracked my progress by watching the pedestrians walk by. When I could first see out the corduroy tent, I was around the knees of most people. Before my eyes my view got lower, and I could scarcely process people’s shins as they raced by.
Eventually my feet touched the outside of Lana’s shoe, giving just enough push back to stop my descent, but it was at the worst possible spot. Lana’s ankle was jammed against my back, pressing me forward and contorting my body. She effortlessly had me holding a stress position and probably didn’t even know about it, invalidating it as a test. However, while there was a slight tinge it was not as painful as I expected. Something, possibly the serum, had dulled my pain receptors, so it was more akin to sitting in an uncomfortable chair.
Standing atop Lana’s shoe, I was subjected to the full torque of her strides. The small movement from before was now a great woosh, making my insides lurch with its start and stop. When her foot set down, whatever thoughts I had were scrambled while the force of it ran through my cranium, along with my ribs and teeth shaking from the power. Every small movement from her ankle was evident to me, shoving my torso back and forth with her step. From my position I could only look out at her tremendous shoe, dozens of yards long with a bow the same height as me on her toes.
Watching the world speed past me with each one of Lana’s steps was too disorienting and I set my feet to the side so they would no longer hold me in place. With the next step I sank into her shoe, dropping my entire lower legs into her flat. I could have fought against it, but in truth I wanted to go even further down so I wouldn’t have to see how fast she was making me move. A few more steps later I was shoved all the way into her shoe by the force of her step, blocking everything out from my view.
My feet landed against her sole, and I was pressed against Lana’s sole. Every step she took made a tremendous rumble that resonated in my ears, making an overwhelming boom, and every bone in my body felt the power of her steps. I couldn’t see anything outside of her shoe, leaving it to my other senses to let me know what was going on. Every input was a reinforcement of how much larger and more powerful Lana was than me, and there was nothing I could do against it.
I was subjected to Lana’s movements the rest of the way, with no possible recompense on my end. Her weight held me down, working with the strong tension from her nylons, so I was subject to her power. Struggling in the least would have been pointless, and each second she gave me a strong reminder that I was trapped within her stocking. Not only that, but I was trapped insider her shoe at the same time, making me feel like a mere small part of her shoe while she walked.
Finally, I heard a key sliding into a lock from far above me, followed by the tumblers turning over. I welcomed the brief pause in her movement, but it resumed after a brief moment while the door swung inward. Lana’s footfalls on her hardwood floors were distinctly different from when she was on concrete, making a loud, hollow sound that resonated through the air. Her feet turned and twisted while she moved, throwing me along with her heel, as she got comfortable in her apartment. Hers and her feet every movement was apparent to me, tossing me around within her shoe as she took minute steps through her place.
At long last the shoe fell away from her foot, and Lana relaxed in one of her chairs. I saw the enormous world outside of it through her stocking, her coffee table and couch shifted to be significantly darker thanks to the material. Lana set her foot back down on the floor, blocking the whole view off with her shoe when it came to a thudding stop on the floor. The nylon around me stretched and loosened while Lana stretched her recently freed toes, wiggling them in the air.
The nylon held me still, but Lana’s stocking got gradually looser around me. I looked up and saw her fingers gradually working her stocking down her leg, gradually loosening the fabric that clenched me against her foot. Her hands pushed the increasingly slack material down her thighs, then along her shin, and enough slack built up that I was no longer pressed against her heel. I fell into the waiting net of her stocking, leaving me prone as it continuously became looser.
At last, the stocking came loose, and the only thing supporting me was the strong mesh behind me. Lana turned it upward, and I tumbled over several feet of strong nylon on the descent until I spilled out into Lana’s palm. I settled into the middle of her hand while she dropped the stocking to the side, leaving me exposed in the middle of her palm. She looked down at me with her dark blue eyes, completely impassive as she considered my tiny form.
“Subject fell into my shoe on the walk home,” Lana dictated, and I saw that she was holding a tape recorder in the other hand. “Yet, maintained structural integrity as I went. Subject displays tendencies of increased resistance, but they have not been tested as of yet and may not be accurate. Therefore, indications derived from this cannot be included in future reports.”
Lana set the tape recorder down, then moved that hand to pluck me out of her hand. Her thumb and forefinger pinched around my body, lifting me out of her palm. Carefully she carried me over toward an electronic scale and set me down on the metal surface before retracting her hand. There was a clatter when she picked up the tape recorder again then glanced back down, shining a laser down onto me.
“Subject measures in at two point three eight centimeters, and seventeen grams,” Lana declared. Despite how detached she was toward me, her voice still had a remarkable physical effect on me. “Baseline established. Any further compression can be attributed to a result of the tests rather than the serum.” Lana set the laser back down on the counter, then turned her dark blue eyes back toward me. Her hand came back toward me, fingers poised to snag me again. She grabbed me between her digits and gave me a firm squeeze, smushing my body into a narrow line.
The tape recorder clicked back on and Lana held it up to her mouth. As dispassionately as if she were reading an odometer she declared, “Time to begin the first official test.