This choice: home and play with our new toy." • Go Back... Jamie and her friends left the shop and immediately returned home. With each step, she could feel little Charles trapped hopelessly in her shoe. She knew that Pam and Kim wanted a turn, but they were going to have to wait a long time . . .
As Jamie walked in the front door, she slammed her foot down on the hardwood floor of the foyer. With a flutter in her heart, she reflected on the fact that for the rest of her life, she was going to have a tiny, tiny man subsisting on nothing but her foot sweat and toe jam. Jamie had never had a particularly malevolent personality, but the very idea that an actual human life was completely under the power and control on nothing but her foot filled her with an extremely pleasurable sense of power and fulfillment.
After thanking Pam and Kim for their contribution (and assuring them that they would eventually get to experience tiny Charles under their own feet), Jamie retreated to her room. Sitting in her favorite chair, she looked down at her right foot. If she concentrated, she could feel every move--every breath--between her toes. She was wearing a black, closed-toe sling-back pump, and she could feel how hot her foot had grown during her sunny walk home. She wondered how long it would take before the novelty of having a tiny man under her foot would begin to wear off. Would his presence become second nature? Would he eventually become nothing more than another accessory for her foot, like her ever-present toe ring, left to suffer in silence? As she pondered, she discounted the possibility as thought about the fact that she could always find new and more challenging uses for him.
Jamie began a mental inventory of all of the shoes in her possession, and grew increasingly excited about the fact that her new possession would be spending time under her foot in each and every one of them over the coming months. She thought about the dozens of sandals she owned, from trendy high heels with lots of straps to a couple of pairs of beat up, smelly old Birkenstocks with the black image of her foot ground into the sole. Jamie wondered how she would keep Charles secure while wearing sandals, but thought that the pressure and sweat from her foot would undoubtedly do the job. She thought about the numerous pairs of tennis shoes in her closet that she frequently wore without socks while exercising, and how some of them stunk so badly that she was on the verge of throwing them out. She was certainly glad she held off, as removing all of the funk accumulated inside would certainly be a fitting job for her new foot toy.
As Jamie considered the countless pumps, clogs, boots, flats, slippers and other shoes she owned, she began to think about a few special pairs she had saved over the years that would certainly benefit from the presence of a tiny man. There were her ballet shoes that had endured thousands of hours of dancing since she was a teenager. She still had her old aquamarine prom shoes in a box in the top of her closet. (For a wistful moment, she thought about how amazing it would have been to have tiny Charles between her toes way back when she was attending her prom, feeling him keep her feet moist and fresh as she danced the night away). She had also held on to the slip-on canvas Keds that she wore religiously throughout college, and smiled as she thought about how incredibly filthy, stinky and nasty they had gotten by the time she packed them away. Of course, there was also the navy blue bedroom slippers she had been wearing every night for the past ten years, the soles of which had long ago turned dark brown from the constant barrage of dirt and sweat. As she looked over every old shoe box lining the top shelf in her closet, each one contained a story. More importantly, each one of those stories was soon going to be reintroduced to her feet along with a brand new yet tiny supporting actor.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Charles simply could not fathom how he had ended up in this predicament. Literally hours ago, he had simply been going on with his normal life, recovering from a hangover and looking for a job. Now, his only purpose in life seemed to be cleaning, licking and caring for the gigantic foot of a beautiful brunette giantess. He could not believe that his body was able to withstand the intense heat, pressure and smell. He knew he needed to rest, but he was terrified to stop. All he could do was continue to scratch and bite at the ground-in dirt and skin surrounding his nasty prison.
Finally, after more than three hours of non-stop servitude, he reached the breaking point. He had no choice but to collapse in a heap and rest his screaming muscles . . .
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Jamie was snapped out of her reverie by the sudden realization that her tiny man had stopped moving. With the barest hint of a smile, she realized that it was time to administer her first punishment. After all, he was going to have to learn now that caring for her feet was a full-time job. If he needed a break, he could damn well wait until she was sleeping. The only question now was exactly how she should punish him. Should she continue to use her feet, or some other part of her body?
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