...your Mother's toes wiggle forward. "Mom, please," you cry in your pathetic tiny voice. Her toe crevice begins to nuzzle right up to the sandal thong where you're holding fast "Mom, NOOOooo!," but your screams are muffled by her foot's profuse lint as it swallows you. The thong presses you kicking and screaming into its fetid, downy depths. It would have been comfortable, even pleasant were it no for the smell constantly imposing on you the reality of where you are -- caught like a bug between your own Mother's toes
As her foot lifts off you grab for the sandal but your hands slip on its sweaty surface and the glob of toe-lint that now surrounds you has its own sticky ideas about where you should be. You watch as your only hope of escape drifts away leaving you imprisoned in her sock-fuzz. What was more, without the sandal being there to press apart your mothers toes they ease back together gently crushing you down into the depths of her toe crevice. 'There's no escape now,' you think when even the light is banished from your stinking prison.
You try to move but the pressure between her toes is unyielding. It forces her toe-lint into every crevice in your body: up your nose, down your pants, it even goes down your mouth when you try desperately to take a breath. Knowing the weight of her clamping digits would only force more down your throat if you attempted to spit it out, you do the only thing you can do -- chew and swallow. It tastes like soft rags soaked in foot sweat and every time your tongue touches it you feel the need to shiver. Unfortunately, because of your predicament, you can't. You begin to truly despair, even if you live how will you live with yourself knowing you'd eaten a hamburger sized wad of something that originated from between your own Mother's toes.
The cessation of your giantess Mother's foot steps convinces you to quiet your whimperings and listen. If a chance for escape arises you may only have moments to make your move.
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