Shoe

Part I “What do you think she is going to do to us,” Marcus asked. “I don’t know Marcus! I just don’t know! I still don’t know what the hell she put in our drinks and at that, how the hell did she get us in this dark ass room without any help? Besides answering those questions, what the fuck did she do to our clothes,” Chris asked. Marcus and Chris had spent all of last night at a nearby house party held by one of their classmates. At the party was a woman name Crystal Lewis. Crystal wasn’t really known to socialize with her peers much. At the same time, she would keep to herself thanks to all that people had said about her. She would often be made fun of and excluded from many activities. Interesting enough, you would expect such treatment while on a high school campus – but this is college. ...

(A Short Story) Beginning. “What…are you serious? Well fuck you then too. As a matter of fact Bobby, I know just what to do with you,” Kim said. I could hear her yelling and screaming over the phone. Of course, I heard those words, “I know just what to do with you”, from her before. When I heard those words, I simply hung up on her afterwards. I went to bed, rather comfortable with my decision to go our separate ways…. but I had no idea that it would lead me into the very hell that I have experience now…. for perhaps three years or so. And what might that hell be? I have since that very next day after our argument, completely lost all concept of time. It’s not just been three years of hell….. but also three years of humiliation and degradation. ...

(A Short Story) Beginning. “What…are you serious? Well fuck you then too. As a matter of fact Bobby, I know just what to do with you,” Kim said. I could hear her yelling and screaming over the phone. Of course, I heard those words, “I know just what to do with you”, from her before. When I heard those words, I simply hung up on her afterwards. I went to bed, rather comfortable with my decision to go our separate ways…. but I had no idea that it would lead me into the very hell that I have experience now…. for perhaps three years or so. And what might that hell be? I have since that very next day after our argument, completely lost all concept of time. It’s not just been three years of hell….. but also three years of humiliation and degradation. ...

(story continues from A Witch for a Wife) Part 2: Inside Her Shoe It was about nine in the morning, about three and a half hours before April would get her lunch break. Like most women that wear heels, April’s feet were killing her. And like most women that wear heels would normally do, April at this point just wouldn’t do at all. April, although her feet were killing her, just simply decided to spare herself the humiliation. These shoes she had on her feet were not the “freshest” in the world. She knew that after a good while with them on, the smell would be rather repulsive. Since she was about to engage in a long meeting, she simply planned on keeping her feet inside of her shoes all the way. Though it might have been good for her… it was bad for her little hubby who was imprisoned inside of the left pump under her sweaty toes. ...

It is a warm day in Wildaron Forest. Amber Nightwind has been waiting for this day a long time. At last, the stars are right. Life as a Dryadani is a busy one. But lately she has been wishing for someone - someone she can Play with. After much study, she has determined that today will be the day. Stepping into her garden, she begins to pace out a circle. At each quarter point, she lights a small torch, picks a few flowers to weave into her long red hair, then recites a brief invocation. “Ohh, Powers of the East, come if you will, you blow so good! Ohh, Powers of the South, come if you will, you are so-o hot! Ohh, Powers of the West, come if you will, you are so wet! Ohh, Powers of the North, come if you will, you are so-o hard!” By the time she completes the circuit, she has gotten a bit hot herself, so she unbuttons her silken chemise, exposing her full round breasts. Standing in the center of the circle, she balances a little precariously on her red spike-heeled pumps, legs spread, and begins her prayer to Sharalisa. In another part of Wildaron, you, a thin melancholy Gwelfani, are taking a break from practicing your borashan. You are resting against a rainbalar tree, your long blond hair wisping over your shoulders. Although musicians are honored and in demand in Shaharasai, you sometimes feels restless and unfulfilled. Leaning back, you close your pale blue eyes for a moment, pondering your situation. Suddenly, the very air around you seems to thicken, swirl, and hum. You open your eyes, but there is nothing to be seen. You try to stand but your limbs won’t respond to your thoughts. You breathe in deeply, once, twice; trying to understand the situation. On you third breath, the air begins to clear. You find you are able to move, a little. You look down at yourself; your black boots are still visible under the edge of your golden robe. But by looking down instead of up, you are not prepared for what comes next. You are suddenly scooped up in a large hand, whose crimson fingernails form a threatening cage around you. “Ah, by my Lady Sharalisa, the spell worked! It worked!” a musical voice trills out. Looking at last upwards, you behold the face of the Dryadani Amber. She is truly magnificent, towering some twenty-five feet above where you are sprawled in her palm. Her full, ample breasts hang just across from where you sit, though each one is twice your height. “Long have I wished for just such a little toy to amuse myself with,” she continues. “And now I have you. Tell me, my little trinket, what is your name?” “T-Terry,” you stammer out. You have, in your most private moments, fantasized about a similar situation. But now that it is real and you are lying in her huge warm hand, you find the reality of your predicament quite overwhelming. “Well, Terry, I am Amber Nightwind, but you may address me as Goddess’, " she giggles. Her hand shakes a little as she says this, bouncing you slightly. “From now on, you are MINE. I can be a most loving Goddess, but you must do your best to please me at all times, is that clear?” You nod your head a little. You are not sure if you like this situation, but for now it seems best to play along. You cannot even see the ground from where you lie in her hand; who knows how far down it may be? “That’s good,” she says. “Now, for starters, let’s get rid of these clothes - you won’t be needing them anymore.” She grabs your left foot between the index and thumb of her other hand and pulls your boot off. “Hey!” you start to protest. But she is already pulling off the right one as well. “None of that now - you are supposed to please me, not the other way around.” Amber frowns down at you slightly. “Now, how does this robe come off?” She begins to prod at you, lifting the edge of your golden robe with her long fingernail. You struggle a little to keep it down - for despite your trepidation, the sight of the lovely Dryadani’s immense breasts has had its effect on you. You are not ready to reveal this to Amber; besides, your plans to escape will be complicated if you are naked. Still, she is intent on having her way. Grasping the hem of your robe, she succeeds in lifting it over your head, forcing you to raise your arms as the garment is pulled up, and at last, off. You are now completely nude and helpless in her giant hand. “Ahh, and what is this?” she smiles. “I see my tiny captive is savoring this after all!” With one tapered finger the size of your thigh, she strokes your erection as gently as she can. To you, however, this presses your manhood hard against your stomach. You momentarily forget all ideas of escape and lie back, letting her bring you to the height of arousal. “I’m glad you’re enjoying this, my dear. But I am ready for some enjoyment myself.” Amber ends her fingertip massage, instead gripping you firmly in her hand. Her tight grasp nearly knocks the wind out of you and bruises your ribs just a little. You can just manage to peer out over the top of her hand. She is carrying you towards a gargantuan castle whose misty spires you have seen soaring above the western clouds when conditions are just right. She enters a door in one turret and climbs the stairs, two at a time. This rapid ascent jounces you so severely you close your eyes to keep away the vertigo. When things settle enough, you open your eyes, just in time to find yourself being set into a golden birdcage. “Stay there just a moment, my pet,” Amber says breathily. “I won’t be a minute.” She steps over to a washstand and slithers out of her silken blouse. Seeing her standing there, running a moist cloth over her immense torso, you find your arousal returning. But more important, she has turned her back on you - perhaps now you can make your escape. You slowly make your way to the cage door. Fortunately, it is only latched, not locked. Peering out over the edge, you decide you might be able to leap down onto the red-cushioned sofa below. You swing out and down, dangling from the cage bottom to get yourself as close as possible. Unfortunately, just as you let go, the door swings shut with a clank!, alerting Amber. “Tsk, tsk. Didn’t I tell you to stay where you were?” Amber asks a little peevishly just as you drop into the cushions on the sofa. You try to hide behind a pillow, but she is too quick. Grabbing you around the middle, she shakes you a little. “That is no way to behave! Now -” she continues, “all that work in the garden has worn me out. I could use a foot massage..” She sets you down on the floor by her feet. She is wearing bright red pumps; their pointed spikes are as tall as you are. She crosses one huge shapely leg over the other, the sole of her foot hanging just above your head. “Look out below!” she laughs, as she slips her heel loose from the shoe. You narrowly miss being impaled on the spike as it swings forward. Letting the shoe slide off completely, she orders you to start rubbing her foot. “Rub it hard , little man,” she commands, “my feet are sore!” She shoves her foot towards you. It is even larger than you are. She slips off her other shoe, nudging you forward with her other foot. Seeing no way out of your predicament, you begin to rub her foot. She pushes it against you. “My feet are so-o hot and sweaty,” she complains. “Can you give them a tongue bath?” You look around for a way to escape this, but with one foot caging you in from behind and the other waiting in front, there seems little chance of that. “Go on!” she urges impatiently. So you stick out your tongue and begin to lick the bottom of her enormous foot. It smells of leather and sweat and something indefinable. You are soon intoxicated by the heady aroma and begin to lick all over her sole, pressing your slim body up against the wall of soft pink flesh. You are about to be carried away on waves of salty enchantment when she suddenly grasps you between her feet. Leaning back on the couch, Amber raises you up in the air, still firmly between her feet. “Oh-h, that was very nice,” she giggles. “I’m feeling much more relaxed now.” Beneath where you are suspended some forty feet in the air, Amber is a symphony of fire. Her dark red hair spills over her shoulders and onto her creamy round breasts, each capped with a strawberry nipple the size of your head. She is wearing a bright red miniskirt that stands out against the ruby red of the couch under her. With her legs raised like this, that little skirt has fallen back, revealing the sheer black panties underneath. Through them you can make out a tangle of reddish curls. You squirm a little, but not too much, for a fall from this height would surely kill you. Amber laughs up at you “Well, little one, I’m tempted to play’ with you right here. I’ve been waiting so long for this chance,” she says, running her hands over her breasts, squeezing them, making her nipples stand erect. “But I’ve a better place in the other room. Only I better make sure you’re safe for the journey; I’m not sure I can trust you yet” she frowns. With that, she hooks her thumbs into the waistband of her panties, pulling them down to just above where the thick curls begin. She bends her knees, bringing her feet just above where her hands now lie, the left one idly stroking her womanhood through the sheer black silk. With her right hand, she pulls the fabric out away from her body. Then, abruptly, she loosens her foothold on you, dropping you down so you land in the soft deep nest waiting there. With her right hand she reaches in and positions you before pulling the panties back into place. “Get used to it, dear,” she coos. “You’re going to be spending a lot of time there!” With that, Amber stands up, wiggling her hips a little to settle you into place. You are wrapped tightly against her enormous femininity, the moist black silk taut against your back. You are battling against your imprisonment, but there is no place for you to go ...

Tanya bent down and picked up her shoes standing them neatly on the table in front of her. The chunky heels were four inches long, and square in shape. With downward pressure from her thumbs she slid aside a panel which covered the top of one heel, revealing a hollow interior. Smiling and humming happily she unfastened a catch on a small cage on the same table, reached in and lifted up a mini-man. He was naked, struggling desperately futilely against her. She dropped him into the heel then replaced the covering panel. Inside, the little man had to curl his body awkwardly to fit in. His head, neck and spine were painfully bent. It was dark, musty, sweat-smelly and warm. Meanwhile, Tanya had removed a similar panel on the undersideof her shoe. This one was directly beneath the pad of her foot, extending under her toes. The exposed space was divided in two, like the battery compartment of a remote control. Again she reached into the cage, but this time she picked two little men. She lay the men face down in the spaces available, so their backs would be to the floor when she had the shoe on. One disobedient mini-man would not lie still. With a little sigh and a wry grin of amusement she lifted him toward her face. As he came nearer and nearer she licked her red painted lips, slowly opening her mouth as if she were about to eat. She laughed at the sounds of his tiny pleading shouts and screams. Changing her grip to both hands she pinched his waist between fingers and thumbs then twisted his body sharply, snapping his spine and paralysing him. “Now you’ll lie still won’t you little one ?” she laughed. She put him back inside the sole of her shoe and clicked the rubber sole back into place. The inner sole of her shoe was perforated allowing the men to breathe, although every breath was suffused with the smell of her feet. When her full weight was on the shoe, then the sole of her foot closed off the breathing holes and the mini-men came close to suffocation. She repeated this process with the other shoe, then slipped them on. Standing slowly she let her full weight bear down on her little captives. She walked around the room, swaggering letting her full hips sway and undulate admiring herself in the full length mirror she had hung on the wall. She looked magnificently sexy in a tight white top, semi-transparent and decorated in flower patterns, black lycra micro-mini-skirt, black stockings and her special high heeled shoes. As she walked, the mini-men suffered immediate pains, being crushed, smothered and violently shaken in their shoe prison. Even standing still she was causing immense crushing pain but if she ran or stamped her feet then the mini-men faced oblivion. But, to Tanya, the benefits were obvious. The little panting breaths from under her feet drew air in and out, cooling and comforting her hot, sweaty feet. Their constant struggles under the pad of her foot gave her a delicious massage, and the feeling of crushing and abusing these helpless little men, feeling them squirm under her feet for her pleasure, was an immense turn on. That she was turned on, could be testified to by a mini-man in the crotch of her panties. He was sewn in, using loops to hold wrists, ankles and waist. He was muscular and resilient and needed to be. He could hold his breath for over a minute and often needed to as she walked or sat. All day her juices flowed over him, they soaked his skin, and went up his nose as well as into his helpless mouth. She loved the idea of using these little creatures as panty liners what better use for them could there be. Sometimes she would press his body to her slit for greater stimulation and pleasure. She sat down to finish her cup of tea before she went to work, smoothing her mini-skirt with the palms of her hands. She grimaced and spat her tea back into the cup, it had gone cold. She picked up the smoked glass cup, swirling the tea and watching as the cloudy liquid moved. She was about to take it and the tea-pot to the sink when she noticed a mini-man glaring at her from the cage. She put her cup down again smiling in surprise at this mini-man’s gall. She plucked him from the cage, holding him upside down by the ankles. He struggled and tried to kick free as she moved him over the table and toward her cup. With a wicked grin and a laughing “Bye-Bye”, she ducked his little head and body into the cold tea. After a few seconds of frenzied kicking came an almost imperceptible stream of bubbles. She paused then pulled him out, just enough for his head to clear the surface. It amused her to see him gulping air into his tiny lungs, even as he was coughing and spluttering from being submerged. Just as his breathing returned to normal, she ducked him again. This time he stayed strangely still for a while, but eventually as she looked idly through the glass sides of the cup, she saw his eyes open wide and he struggled again. Once more, she lifted him out of the tea. Holding him firmly in her left hand, she lifted up the tea-pot and refilled her cup to the top. Some tea spilled over into the saucer so she lifted the cup from it and poured a little back into the cup. With slow cruelty she dislocated his arms at each shoulder and his legs at the hips. He passed out momentarily until she began snapping the tiny fragile bones of his arms and legs. The adrenalin overdose was enough to shock him back to consciousness. With a chuckle she dropped him into the full cup, headfirst. To ensure his doom, she sat the saucer on top of the cup, sealing him in. Through the glass she saw his fruitless struggles to survive. ...

She looked down at the little man between her long, tanned, silky smooth legs. She lay on her king size bed with her legs wide apart, her little lover, 2 inches high, stood before her gaping bush, dark and well trimmed. She had a fantastic figure. She modelled part time but worked in a busy law office in town, frequently admired by the clients who took their business there. The 6 foot model had studied the art of witchcraft from her Russian grandmother, who had been a gypsy, and was skilled in the craft. She was 28, elegant and well spoken. Her figure was trim and she boasted ample breasts, which when exposed, hung firm and boasted darkened nipples, pointing slightly upwards. Her hair was jet black, her natural colour, which hung down over her shoulders to the top of her breasts. Her tanned body complimented her slim figure, much the envy of many women in the town. She had met this man at a late night bar after competing some important documentation for a client. Flattered by his advances she agreed to spend some time with him and so they proceeded back to her apartment, where they discussed sexual fantasies, amongst other things, over a coffee and brandy. Jack had told her how he fantasised about being a tiny man, satisfying a women, bringing her to orgasm with his tiny body, squirming inside her. This turned her on for she had the power and the knowledge to make this dream a reality. They were both a little drunk when she offered her proposal to him. He agreed joyfully, not having any idea what this woman was capable of, let alone truly believing in the fantasy. She returned from the kitchen with a glass that contained a strange concoction of herbs and had froth oozing over the brim. “Here,” she said. “Drink this…you’ll never regret it” ...

Part One: The Beginning “You’re now pronounced husband and wife,” the minister said. I had never been so happy in my life – a very beautiful woman and with every quality that I had ever sought or hoped for. I can even safely say that April is far beyond what I had ever expected… but when the wedding was over… something changed! Usually, most couples would engage in sex and romance the night of the wedding. My wife and I did just that – and what a night it was. We had the best champagne – the best food. I know that in my lifetime, there never was a better night at that point. And after a few hours of heated romance and love making, my wife and I would slip into a deep sleep. I slept like a baby… but when I awoke… I awoke to the most startling discovery… here… just where my story really begins… ...

My favorite manicurist is a young woman with a golden touch who makes my hands and feet feel human again after my best effort all week to catch my nails on just about any hard surface. This week it had been a jacuzzi on July 4, and every time I got in and out my toes scraped on the pebbled stone steps. Totally worth it, though, I mean, how often do you get to watch fireworks at an exclusive resort, naked and submerged up to your neck in swirling water, sipping champagne and backed up against a perfectly positioned bubbly jet? Makes me sleep like a baby. ...