The third orgasm wracked Ted's body, losing none of its potency, and though he had to take a breather, his prick still went back to attention for its fastest turnaround yet. Number four was coming up quick. In a perfect world, the boy supposed he might like the chance to slow down and savor each and every grinding climax on Larissa's sole, but who was he to make demands now? It was a bit tiring to go three-for-three without so much as a pause between erections, but his time might be running out, for all he knew, before the godlike redhead decided she was through with him, and chose to end the lesson and the foot orgy.

            Larissa was certainly right about one thing, at least: this home econ project from sexual hell was, indeed, going to draw all the sin out of him. And if this was the sin, then that little circle of stippled, creamy sole plastered over Ted's dick was the forbidden fruit.

            Whereas the morning passed in tortuous tedium, being rolled and bopped and smashed under a ceiling of saline-dripping stocking, the rest of the day had instead abandoned all sense of time, once Ted's whole existence was re-centered, appropriately, on the epicenter of Larissa's sole. The girl had surely already finished up lunch and made her way to more than on afternoon course. Those activities seemed like impossible philosophy to someone as lowly as Ted had become, and so he barely thought of the passing hours at all. He didn't need to concern himself with the affairs of someone like her. She had her world, and he had his.

            Orgasm numbers four, five, six, and seven were just as welcome as the last, and they came roughly as quickly. Though Ted didn't have the carnal history to actually know this, Larissa's sole was like the ultimate sexual partner: endlessly energetic, never boring, and always hungry for the next shenanigans. The shrunken man, unfortunately, lacked those qualities. Numbers eight through eleven were tiring, and the diminutive lad's junk was starting to chafe, but he was prepared to put up with some bite if it ended with such a euphoric climax. After a dozen spurts, he lost count in the haze, but nevertheless carried on like it was his one purpose in life, because as of today, it was.

            Ted had even learned how to fidget his strung-up body to match whatever Larissa's pliable foot was doing at any given time for maximum effect. When her foot was laid still on the classroom carpet, it was mostly up to him to shimmy his hips as best as the tethers would allow, enjoying the smooth stasis of the girl's reposed sole; it felt a bit like the first blemishing lick off a fresh ice cream scoop, albeit much warmer. Then, when the time came for the colossal ginger to stalk off to her next period, her foot did most of the work; Ted only had to brace himself for the oncoming impacts, while Larissa's metamorphosing sole continually puckered its wrinkles around his hard-ons. The sensation was damned close to a blow-job, the boy figured, as the sweat-drenched lip-shape of each doughy crease reformed then stretched back out, all but sucking on him from the underfoot pressure.

            Afternoon passed into early evening. Larissa presumably was dismissed from school for the day, but Ted frankly had no idea about that, nor of much else. Somewhere along the line, when the masturbatory build-up was actually beginning to hurt, it occurred to Ted that he was well-past the point of even a freak sexual occurrence. No matter how perfect a sole he had to work with, and indeed Larissa's was probably as close as he would ever get, his insatiable member had now managed to make him spasm dozens of times in a single day, without breaks in between, and while the rest of his body was trampled and bruised by ratty nude stockings for hours on end.

            When the next uncomfortable orgasm completed, Ted mentally took the reins. He couldn't move his body much other than shaking, but after spending an uncertain day down in the depths of Larissa's clog, his mind was now sharpened enough to focus with laser-precision on a single subject and pick it apart. For the last few hours, he'd aimed on the luxurious gratification of his tormentor's spongy sole, but now Ted instead used every granule of will he had left to resist temptation. Foot fetish or not, this was getting out of hand. He'd climaxed so many times, his cock was throbbing from friction burns rather than delight. With great concentration, he managed to slow his member down, but only slightly. And though he failed to curtail another stinging orgasm, Ted shuddered right into profound clarity.

            Surely this, at last, was the lesson Larissa had planned for him. He could see it now. She planned to torture him with the one secret he held closest to his heart, his full-fledged worship of her feet; after that, too traumatized by overstimulation and jack-off endurance, he'd be a more "normal" boy. Ted doubted that was entirely true, since he was sure to be scarred by this psycho-sexual experience for the rest of his days, but he was, in the strangest way possible, comforted upon realizing how all these bizarre puzzle pieces lined up.

            The end was in sight. He just had to endure, throw himself at the mercy of Larissa's Catholic-themed justice, then never even glance the way of these girls again forever.

            Ted was more than willing to live with those terms.

            He'd become so accustomed to his pain-and-pleasure micro-universe, that the boy was actually startled when he felt the gravelly clog insole beneath him sliding away. The wide black vessel gave way to light through the leather mouth, and Larissa's customized stocking launched back into the real world. Due to his bindings, Ted went right along with her foot, roped to the bottom and praying she remembered he was here before slamming her leg back to earth. The boy had been rubbed so vigorously into the bottom of her astronomic foot by now, though, he was fairly certain he'd have stuck fast to the redhead's opalescent sole even if he wasn't tied down to it.

            The girl's foot continued hovering just a few inches away from the ground, and judging by the opposite ped resting on the carpet jungle below, with the monumental barricade of a bedpost just behind, Ted realized Larissa was sitting on the end of her bedroom mattress with one leg crossed over the other. Yet again today, he was placed in circumstances that should've made for the ultimate fantasy: being alone with Larissa in her room, and on the floor, no less, near her after-school feet. Her pasty sole was still just as balmy and supple as it was while crammed inside her clog. Unfortunately, his priorities now had to shift to prepare for his fetishistic trial, courtesy of the girl's demented lesson. Any minute now, Ted decided, Larissa would peel his drained body off her boat-sized sole like a barnacle, then give him the scolding of his life, culminating in an existence devoted to distancing himself from choir girl feet.