Heather's Foot Bitch - Chapter 4

“Stop whining! I go for a jog every morning. That’s the nice thing about having an evening job, you know. You get time to do stuff in the morning, no rush to wake up, all of that. Now stop squirming or I’ll shrink you even smaller.” Said Heather to me. I was furious. She had kept me inside her boot all evening, danced on me like crazy, kept me inside her sock, plastered to her bare foot all night long while SHE was sleeping and while I was enduring her foot smell, and that morning, after her breakfast, she shrunk me back down to 2 inches, stuffed me inside her nike running shoes, and let me tell you those shoes had seen better days, and she was about to go jog, casually, while I’m inside her sneaker. I was furious.

“Fuck you!” I screamed from inside the shoe. 

“Alright, smaller it is.” She said to me. She plucked me out of the shoe dans dropped me on the table with her giant fingers. “How about half an inch, that’ll give you something to worry about.” She said, pointing the shrinking thingie towards me.

“NO! Please! Heather, don’t do this!” I screamed at the top of my lungs, but I was already feeling the tingling sensation of shrinking. 

“Too late. I thought about firing you, but I’m still willing to keep you as an employee for now, so if you want to make it to your shift tonight, you better be nice in there while I jog on you.” She said to me. I was minuscule, so small, so tiny, I couldn’t believe it. She pinched my little body between her finger nails and dropped me again inside the now even bigger shoe. I tumbled inside on the smelly darkened white insole. It was surrealistic. She wasn’t really going to do that, was she?

Oh yes. She was. No backing out. After what she did to me the previous day I had total faith now that she was a monster and could do anything to me. Why did I agreed to all of this in the first place, I should have stayed out of this. Now I regret everything. I cannot believe that I wanted to have fun with her feet, they are smelly, huge, powerful, and merciless. And Heather, who I thought was acool boss, ended being a very forceful tormentor. I wasn’t even allowed to go back home! And now, she was threatening to jog on me. 

Her giant white cotton socked foot came into the opening of the shoe. He toes raged inside like bulls, trampling me and ramming me under them. I was rolled, pushed, tossed under her foot, got stuck into cotton fibers, and ended up under her toes when she finally rest her foot inside the sneaker completely. I tried to wiggled myself away but it was completely pointless. It was pitch black, muffled cramped and there was literally nowhere to go. From my previous experiences, the only way to survive this was to actually stay there, don’t move and try not to drown in foot sweat cause I knew it was coming, no matter how many magic thoughts I had about things going well, I knew they would be going very bad and that soon enough I would be flooded by her foot sweat. 

And that’s exactly what happened after half a mile. Sher was jogging mindlessly, pouring foot sweat on me like if I wasn’t even there. Or was she being turned on by this I don’t know. All I knew back in that sneaker, is that I had to time my breathing, hold on to the soaked sock fibers, trying not to get sick from the constant pounding and crushing of her skyscraper weight, and keep my mind occupied thinking about unicorns and rainbows. 

I screamed for help. 

I screamed for my life. 

I swallowed her foot sweat while doing so. 

Honestly, I was thinking that this was the end of me. Killed by foot sweat, drowned in it. I thought I was a goner for more than half the run. I thought I would be killed by Heather, not even caring. But it didn’t happen. Part of me wished it did, to end this suffering, but it didn’t happen. At some point, her foot was pulled out of the shoe, leaving me motionless and exhausted, laying down face down into a puddle of unabsorbed foot sweat on the insole. I dared to look up in the opening. All I could see was Heather’s giant eye looking down at me and she laughed. Then her foot came back in. Not even a single word of acknowledgment. I think she was just checking if I was alive and when she saw that I was, it was a good reason for her to just put her shoe back on and continue jogging. This felt more than humiliating. It felt like my whole life was just a good reason for torture. What would have happened if I was dead? Would she do the same, continue jogging on me? Would she have plucked me out and discard me and crush em like a cigarette once and for all. All those haunting thoughts came in loops, time with the rhythm of her running pace. I was in hell. Simply put, this was the worse single event in my life. 

Oh wait no. I take that back. Heather had other plans for me that day. Whatever I had done to that woman, she had plans to unleash her whole cruelty on me. Maybe it was a way to feel better for her? Maybe she wanted to torture me as much as possible to feel superior? Maybe being a little boss in a big company wasn’t enough for her, she needed a foot bitch to actually feel good about herself. It was simply out of control. What started as a funny punishment at work ended up being completely out of control. She was torturing me. I thought about suing her as soon as she would grow me back to normal. I thought about calling the journalists, calling the police, calling the mayor, calling whoever could protect me from being shrunk again by this evil monster, but, every time, she would trample those thoughts away from my mind and remind me that I had to time my breathing in order not to drown in her foot sweat. I had fractions of seconds to think, then all my mindset was shattered again, each step. 

But like all good things, bad things can end somehow. And I cannot express the relief feeling when she removed her foot from the shoe AFTER finishing her jog. She didn’t care to look at me this time, she just went to shower. I tried to move, but my muscles were sore, painful. The rush of cool fresh air in the shoe made me feel good. I managed to turn on my back and breathe deeply, part of my air was her foot and shoe stench but the other part was cool air and it felt great. I had thoughts about trying to escape but it was simply impossible for me to move. All I had to do was breathe, slowly, calm myself down, and hope. Yes, hope, because I knew that my torture wasn’t over. It was just a break from whatever she had in mind for me. But I had hope that she would be more gentle, more friendly. And I had hope that her feet would be clean, that kept my hope alive a bit. A good shower, thank god. 

Heather came back and picked up the shoe. She turned it upside down and I fell stories high down in the palm of her other hand. Before we go to work tonight I need you to clean my running shoes. I stepped in dirt while jogging, see?” She showed the sole of her running shoe to me. The one I was in. “I’ll grow you to 3 inches so you can lick both of them. You have all afternoon.” She dumped me in a plastic box, shoe size. She grew me to 3 inches like she told me, and then dumped the pair of sneakers on top of me, laughing as I got crushed by one of them. I was under it’s dirty sole, on my back. “Get licking!” she said, and then she put the lid on the clear plastic box and walked away. 

Clean feet after shower would have been greater than licking the muck off the soles of her sneakers. The smell of the freshly worn sneaker didn’t take long to invade the whole box while I was reluctantly licking the huge treads in the sole above me. I wished this would end, but from what she said, she had plans on bringing me to work. That means this was soon about to be 24 hours in her company. On should I say at her mercy. She never gave me a break of any kind, except a few minutes here and there between tortures. I was so tired, I just…fell asleep in that box, not caring about licking the shoes. I had enough. Just needed…some sleep.