After God-knew-how long had passed, the compressed stocking-flesh sandwich of foot and fairy-boy came undone. Sleepily, Ted noticed sensation at last returning to his stubby body, as well as the swish of nylon peeling away from his tattered clothes. Larissa had relaxed her foot, bringing it to rest gently yet firmly on his body once again, but not pressing. Immediately, the boy decided not to re-attempt any escapes in the near future, if at all. He might not survive another one of those. Then, and only then, did Ted notice something new. Something much worse than the reality of being deliberately compressed by a buff, marsmallowy wall of sole.
He was sporting a shamelessly raging boner.
Ted's mind swam. How long had he been hard? Just after being intentionally squeezed to within an inch of his life by Larissa's foot, or even longer than that? Perhaps even the whole time, but it had escaped his notice out of general horror and denial. The thought of being aroused despite the risk of demise was even more repugnant to the boy than that actual risk itself. Especially under a foot generating such mass quantities of rich musk and greasy sweat, which was never the true appeal of this appendage for Ted.
Sure, he'd spent his whole adolescence lusting after pretty female feet, dreaming of their creamy textures, changing hues, and fruitful shapes, yet never being allowed to touch one; it was only natural that he'd be turned on by his first tangible exposure to one, especially when that one foot belonged to the most beautiful redhead he or most anyone in town had ever laid eyes on. Nevertheless, his body was betraying him on the worst day of his life, filling him with self-loathing over his erection, and that didn't even account for the most dangerous question of all.
What if Larissa noticed it?
The bell rang, class came to an end, and Ted prepared himself to suffer through another stroll. He felt the arch in her sole as she rose from the chair to move again. Larissa walked with the same languid style, but by comparison to being crumpled under her aggressive foot, this was a cake walk. She reached her next class without event, or at least Ted perceived this, given that her shoe stopped moving and her foot came comfortably to rest on top of him again.
The reunion with her malleable, stationary sole would've been relatively welcome after such a difficult morning, but Ted's boner still hadn't gone away. He did his best to shift his body onto the side to prevent his jean-clad manhood from tickling into a plush wrinkle, though it was tough when Larissa was so intent on pressing him flat on his little back against her clog platform. Scratchy as the sweat-laced nylon was becoming, the boy was grateful for it now, as it surely helped disguise the feeling of his micro-chub against the sensitive plain of foot skin it was trying to poke.
The period came and went. Larissa marched on to her next class, then settled in for another boring hour which, for her prisoner, felt like time had elongated even further. Still she showed no sign of removing Ted from her shoe to explain her intentions or issue an ultimatum. At this point, the inch-tall man was ready to settle for being held between two pinched fingers and screamed at for a while, if only it hinted at his eventual fate. His penance simply carried on.
As midday was approaching, conditions beneath Larissa's omnipotent sole were getting sharper and balmier all the time, between the marriage of foggy shoe-heat and putrid foot-funk bacteria. The treatment time in a soggy clog at least made Larissa's already-silky feet even softer, but that only went so far when they were getting so sticky, damp, and rancid. Monotony or not, Ted longed for any kind of sign from above that things were coming to a head soon. Surely she couldn't keep him here forever? And, almost as importantly, surely his goddamn erection would go down soon? Neither existential question could be explained, and both filled the boy with dread.
Perhaps worst of all, Ted knew his testosterone-fueled response wasn't just a fluke. At some deep level, he wasn't completely ungrateful for this bizarre scenario. How many times had he promised his soul to a higher power, if only he could be granted the chance to be near goddesses anything like this quartet of popular girls, and more specifically, spend time near their luscious feet? Yeah, maybe they weren't perfect; they'd all agreed to torture a shrunken peer at the site of his greatest fetish, but who was to say that wasn't well-deserved? Maybe his subconscious (and manhood) knew something he didn't, and despite all the madness, he was meant to find the silver lining here and appreciate the opportunity to debase himself at the altar of Larissa's sanctified, voluptuous sole?
If only it wasn't for this nylon blocking him from the promised land of her foot, so near and yet so far. Ted liked a shimmering naked stocking as much as the next guy, but after grinding and pounding under a colossal one for a whole morning, while it sopped up perspiration and stamped its netted imprint into his face, the boy had just about had his fill. It was just as well, though. Without it, his hard-on would surely be discovered.
The last period before lunch arrived. Ted was surprised when he wasn't cocooned back under Larissa's resting nylon-sole again, but instead left at the bottom of another inverted gorge when her toes pointed to the floor. His legs sunk partially into the separation angle between appendage and clog, where the globular ball of Larissa's foot was pinned to the insole. The rest of the girl's arch, however, slid away from the shoe's base, allowing it to dangle again, much as it had on the kneeler this morning. The gargantuan redhead wasn't bowed, though, but rather seated on a bar stool tall enough that she could freely hang her svelte legs down without touching the ground. Whether this was good or bad news for Ted remained to be seen; already he was reminded of her busily bobbing soles from the prayers as she tapped her clog treads against the chair's rungs.
This new position allowed Ted just enough access to the outside world to learn that they were in Larissa's home economics class. The teacher's voice seemed miles away, discouraging the hope of ever getting her attention. Making matters worse, he heard the chatty crossfire of familiar voices somewhere far above at the level of the table. Larissa, it seemed, had hooked up with her friends again. Once the class instructions were delivered, the girls were left to their own devices.