Drake lifts the empty glass one more time. He looks in at you and says, "Listen runt, my feet hurt. I got the perfect job for you" He then takes the glass and dumps you out under the table to the dirty floor. You land between his huge feet.
He extracts his foot from his slip on checkerboard Vans and places it on top of you.
His heal comes down on top of your legs, pinning you down. He looks under the table and wiggles his toes in the grungy sock. "Start massaging runt or I'll smash the rest of you into the floor too."
He looks back up at his muscle-bound friend Tom and says, "I may do it anyway," he laughs.
Using the device hanging around his neck he clicks a few buttons making you pliable. As he does he lets his heal press down harder. You legs smush under the weight. It's a relief to know you won't be crushed to death but this now opens a whole no area of possible humiliation.
You lean forward and begin massaging Drakes long sweaty foot. The smell is rank. He laughs, feeling you wiggle under him and your tiny hands pressing thru the athletic sock into his sole. You do as much as you can reach. Then he simply replaced one foot with the other. They sit above you drinking and talking. You feel so small, so insignificant.
After Drake's second foot is massaged to his satisfaction he decides to.....
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