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Rated: 18+ · Interactive · Erotica · #2240433
You're shrunk around one of the women in Night City. Can you survive?
This choice: Go to the other foot compartment, and sneak into the boot that fell over.  •  Go Back...
Chapter #7

Exploring Panam's Boot

    by: Unknown
As Panam leans back in the driver’s seat, closing her eyes, you think about her boots. Be it boredom, or some guilty pleasure, you decide to walk around Panam’s socks, and make your way towards the passenger’s foot compartment. There, one of her boots stand like a massive tower, while the other has fallen over, presenting you with a giant round entrance to its cave. You smile and step a bit closer, when Johnny appears, sitting down on the edge of the boot’s entrance.

“Don’t tell me you’re stupid enough to do this.” He says. “You got a death wish or something?”

You shrug. “I’ll delta before she even thinks of putting it back on.”

Johnny shakes his head and disappears. You climb up on the border and make your way halfway into the boot. The smell is even worse here, socks can be changed easily, but what these old boots where carrying, was a rancid smell you can’t seem to adapt to. You touch the wet fabric of the wall, feeling the sweat that had built up between it and Panam’s bare leg. You were exploring the inside of your choomba’s boot, it was weird, disgusting, but exciting at the same time. You hear movement outside and look towards entrance of the nomad’s footwear, deciding it’s time to leave. You see two giant fingers wrap around the side of the exit, and you heart sinks.

“Wait, Panam, no!”

Panam picks up her boot, the surface tilting and sending you tumbling all the way down, onto the insole. You scurry around and look up, but there is nothing you can do. You’re powerless, as the nomad’s grey sock blocks out all the light on its way down towards you. This time there is no dodging, you’re stuck in the exact place reserved for her sole. The best you can do is run for the toe end as her socked toes crawl toward you. The tip of her second toe presses against you, forcing you to not only smell it, but taste it. You squirm, but it’s no use. Outside Panam can be heard putting on her other boot, before pulling the lever to straighten her seat. She starts the car, and you can feel her move the boot you’re in, back onto the gas pedal.

The nomad woman continues her ride through the badlands, unaware that her friend is the size of a bug, slowly sliding under her toes. You struggle to breathe, as the wind gets knocked out of you every time she presses down on the gas. The air around you is humid as Panam’s sweat vaporizes, forcing you to inhale it. You sink deeper under her toes, until you’re under their arching spot, where they have folded the wet sweaty sock. Under the arches of her toes, you have a bit more room to squirm and breathe, if only the air wasn’t slowly suffocating you with the horrid stench of the nomad’s feet.

Her repeated pressing of the pedal, although painful, isn’t enough to kill you, but if Panam got out of the car, you know her full weight would be bearing down on you. You wonder if this is it, if this is how you’ll die. At least the ride up until now has been a nice final memory, being out in the desert with Panam.
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