Kelly Haunts Me 2 - NEW! - Chapter 1

The black stylish platform high heel doesn’t give me much room to stretch. I am crushed, almost flattened to its white insole. The shoes are not new. They are high heel wedges with the sides opened, and all in black suede, with a strap. Closed toe, closed heels, they look great, and comfortable to stay up all day long during the graduation ceremony. Kelly is wearing them with clear nylon that makes her long legs look absolutely sexy. She’s got her academic regalia, with purple accents, colors of her alma mater. Kelly is celebrating her passage from student to alumni, after years of efforts and focus. She is celebrating with friends and family with me trapped under her flower, leather and nylon smelling toes. 

I can’t move. The shoes fit too perfectly. Size 7 and a half. I said they were not new, Kelly bought them second hand on Etsy for the occasion. They have a distinctive “other person” smell, nothing I dislike, but I hope by the end of the day Kelly’s sweat will make them smell more like her and less like the other person who owned them before. 

Honestly, there could never be a more beautiful bachelor than Kelly. Knowing that she achieved so much makes me feel proud, even from the confines of her shoe, especially since I paid for her studies. She’s the daughter that I never had…maybe grand-daughter now, sadly.

I cannot hear the ceremony, but I can feel Kelly’s being absolutely ecstatic about it. She’s celebrating with friends, and later on, her parents invited her to a fancy restaurant. Me, I’ll stay where I am. I don’t deserve to eat with real normal size people, I will be in her shoe all day long and it is perfect for me. I inhale deeply, Kelly scrunches her toes all over me and I feel like she is giving me a hug. I kiss the undersides of her nylon toes to show my appreciation. I love Kelly. She changed my life, I owe her big time, more than she owes me. 

She wants to do something special for me. What could it be? I am here kissing her toes while I should use this precious time of mine to think about what I would really want her to give me before I pass away. All of this really feels off, I don’t feel like death is imminent. It’s all very theoretical. Would I like to be grown back to normal size one last time? I’ve been living a dream life for the last years, there is nothing I can ask that I haven’t lived already. Being jogged on? Done. Being crushed inside her ballet pointes? Done. Being worn inside soccer cleats while she plays? Done. What else, what is more intense than those things for a tiny being like me? What should I be wishing for? I don’t even know. Being worn inside her knee-high boots while she goes dancing at the club? Done. That, I like a lot, the dancing makes me feel happy and she sweats like crazy in those boots. I can take a lot of any kind of foot torture from Kelly, I always end up enjoy it. Over the years, I’ve become tough, even if science says that I am now an old lady. It does feel cruel to think about the fact Kelly is actually torturing an old lady, but in my mind, it’s exciting. Anyway, I am not focused again. Come on Mrs Allen, think! Use your brain! What do you want to live before you die?

How about….maybe….

Hmm. 

No, that’s way too twisted, is it? Hmm. I’ll keep thinking about it. 

Right, Kelly is standing up, she’s walking to the stage to get her diploma. Wow, this moment is priceless. She’s so nervous and happy. I can feel her excitement crushing me with every step. That’s it, she’s got it, her diploma. She stands for the picture with the faculty member. She’s smiling. Proud. Happy. With the fulfilling sense of accomplishment. And she walks off stage, she waves at her parents in the crowd, wow this moment is one of a kind. I feel absolutely privileged to be in her shoe while she got her diploma. I kiss her toes through the nylon mesh. I want to hug her. I want her to know I am the happiest I can be, just like her. I think she knows, she twists her foot on me, the pressure is more intense. She did it for me, a gesture to show me her appreciation. What a wonderful young woman she is. 

I love her. Some may think this is too strong of a word for me to use in this context but I think not. I think love is exactly the right word, however…. I do not feel it like I would for a lover. It’s different. It’s like if I felt like total admiration and worship. Like if she was a goddess, and truly, to me, she is. Every time she looks at me I feel so small, so inferior, so tiny, and as a matter of fact I am, and it thrills me. It electrifies me to see her foot descending on me, every single time it happens, I get that small electrical shock of adrenaline reminding me that I am both nothing, and everything. 

And I think I know what I would like to live before I die, but it’s twisted and I am a bit ashamed of it. But the more I think about it, the more I get some long forgotten excitement that I’d never thought I would live again. My tummy is boiling. I think I know the “special thing” she can do for me. Now, all I have to do is muster enough courage to let her know and hope she will not react in a bad way. 

There is a cocktail. The excruciating cocktail where Kelly and her family and friends, and real normal full size people just chat while holding a drink, standing still, sometimes balancing weight from one foot to the other. The women wearing high heels start shoeplaying sometimes during cocktails. But Kelly isn’t bothered, her shoes are comfy and they are strapped tight. No shoeplaying, no pain, just endurance and beauty. That being said, standing still like this isn’t one of the greatest activity one can do but the stabilizing muscles of Kelly’s body are doing a constant job. I can feel all the muscles of her toes, arch, ankle and calf strongly maintain her 120lbs of tall young woman mannequin body she’s been maintaining with rigorous activities and sports over the years. Her feet, perfect in every single angle, are sweating in her nylon encasement, and the shoes are warm. Beads of sweat end up starting to form around me after 30 minutes of cocktail. I can feel the augmented blood flow in her veins, the slow rise of her heart beats, it’s the alcohol. She’s happy, celebrating, and trampling me all at the same time, it feels wonderful. I am in blissful contempt, crushed and half-forgotten under her magnificent body and she makes sure I get the occasional toe crunch all over my body. This means she thinks about me, for one or 2 seconds, between conversations. 

And then there is the car ride, and the restaurant, and I know that my time in this heavenly state of mind and body is soon to end. However, I am a bit startled by Kelly loosening the strap of the shoe. We’re still at the restaurant, how come, oh... maybe she will put me in the other shoe. I am rolled down like play dough on the humid insole of the shoe until Kelly is able to free her foot out and away from it. Fresh air and food smells, garlic, cooking tomatoes, this is an italian restaurant. Kelly kicks the shoe and it falls on its side, sending me tumbling on the restaurant’s carpet floor. They have an alcove table, a step higher than waitress level. I take a few seconds to regain my sense being exposed like that in the real world, it always stresses me, I do not want to be seen by people who do not know….

And then I understand. 

I look up and I see Kelly’s wonderfully beautiful face, she’s looking down at me and she points forward, in the other direction. I already know what she wants me to do, so I give her the pleading eyes that mean “please let me stay with you.” She tilts her head and motions me to move. I wish she could have kept me longer. I turn around and I slowly walk towards her mother Cynthia who’s already kicked off her own classic, low heel black pumps she’s been wearing with black nylons. She is waiting for me. Maybe she asked her daughter to have some time with me, or maybe Kelly was tired to have me in her shoes since a bit before noon. She needed a relief of my presence. I don’t know. What is sure, is that Cynthia is eager. While waiting, she crossed her right leg over the left and she is dangling her black nylon foot above me, airing it probably from the long hours inside her high heels. I am being summoned to take place into her right shoe. Nobody talking to me, I am under the table while they chat about nothing and everything. Kelly’s dad sits next to his wife. I walk slowly. I can already smell Cynthia’s more mature feet and shoes as I get closer and closer. I really wish Kelly would have kept me longer. 

Before I can reach the shoe, Cynthia uncrosses her legs and immediately brings her right foot down on me, pinning me backwards into the carpet, my body completely hidden under the ball of her black nylon foot. Goodness, the smell is strong. I can bet she’s excited to force it onto me. I know it will be even more potent when she traps me inside her black leather pump. She prefers to play with my tiny body while I am still on the carpet floor, rolling me under her heel, and back under her toes and back. Perhaps her foot was sore from wearing those shoes for so long and she was using me as a foot massage object. I catch a glance at Kelly’s foot, already back into the shoe. Her delicate hands are tightening the strap, a nice flowery bracelet adorns her wrist. Bye Kelly, for now, have a good evening. Wish me luck with your mother….

It does feel weird. Not the fact I’m being used by Kelly’s mother, all in all it has always happened here and there based on the contract we all agreed to long ago. Fact is, now that I know I am older than I am supposed to be, Cynthia seems to be younger. It must be a mind trick… But it does feel weird. 

She lets me free. The shoe is waiting for me, right there up turned and ready to be climbed aboard. I hear laughter above me at the table, they cheer. I want to cheer too. But I guess it’ll have to wait. They are celebrating in family and for all it matters, I am not part of it. Yes yes, I’ve been living with them, sharing their lives, for 6 years but something Kelly’s father really insisted on was that I would never be considered as part of the family. It is has been fine by me. I get my moments to talk to Cynthia or Kelly. But right now it does feel a bit like I’m being left alone while they celebrate Kelly’s academic success, the one I paid for, without even at least inviting me to join in the good time. I climb on the front part of the leather shoe and slip myself inside. It’s damp, smelly and warm. The leather creamy insole had Cynthia’s footprints in. I’ve seen those shoes before, she wears them every now and then for occasions. Nice heels, I guess it can be worse. I see her foot above me. I know that it will only take seconds before she engulfs me with it, trapping me under its smelly embrace. There it is, descending right on top of me like before but this time I’m inside the shoe and it’s soon going to be air tight. The nylon brushes on my body, the flesh of her foot molds around me, she drags me along inside on the insole until she slides me down deep under her toes into the dark cave. Everything gets cramped, the mesh applied on me, I am under her toes. The heel slips inside at the other end of the shoe. Cynthia wiggles a bit, I know it won’t take long before temperature starts rising again. I try to calm down my tensed muscles, breathe in deeply to let the habituation form up. Hi Cynthia, I am proud of your daughter. Cheers. 

Dark, humid, smelly confines, claustrophobic thoughts invade me. I would prefer to have stayed with Kelly. The trick is to calm down and breathe. So that is what I do. This gives me time to think about what I would like Kelly to do for me. While they eat and have fun, I let my mind wander in all directions, thinking about stuff. I also take time to fully inhale Cynthia’s foot smell, for some reasons I ignore, even if they are a bit more potent than Kelly’s, today they smell great and habituation kicks in and makes the smell fade away. I want more of it and I breathe in deeper. I know Cynthia loves it. Maybe it’s because she’s in a celebrating mood and she took care of her body, with a good shower and body lotion and all. 

Time flies kind quick when the smell is good. It’s more slow when the smell is bad. It happens sometimes. Even with Kelly. Feet are feet right? Fact is, when the smell is bad, I don’t get to have a say. Either Kelly or her mother they just force it upon me nonetheless. I just endure. I am good at that. It is one of my strength now. When I was shrunk for good back 6 years ago, I was a frail loser that needed back massages and now, I am sturdy and enduring. Being crushed in shoes for years has some benefits I guess. 

When we go back home after the celebration day and the evening at the restaurant, Cynthia lets me go. Kelly and I are in her room and she’s chatting with friends on the computer while I am kissing her bare feet on the floor. She loves to have her bare feet kissed when she’s on the computer. I love to be finally back with Kelly. I kiss her toes, then I slip myself under the bare arch of her now cold feet that smell like nylon and like the shoes she wore all day. Kelly is my best friend. I love her so much. I worship her feet, and when she giggles I like it even more. I know sometimes she giggles because of what she reads and not because of me, but I like to think it is because of me. 

“Hey Mrs. Allen?” Says Kelly, pulling on her chair and looking down at me. I feel her goddess’s gaze upon my tiny minuscule self. 

“Yes my dear?” I say, loud enough. 

“Lick my toes.” She says. Bluntly, just like that. I take in the order and I stick my little tongue out and start licking her beautiful toes. She has red toenail polish. I lick the toes all around, I kneel to them. She’s already pulled her chair back in place to continue chatting with her friends. I love it when she’s dominant and when she gives me specific orders like that. It always gives me an adrenaline rush. Her toes are exquisite, they taste good. My Kelly, you have no idea how much you haunt me. I was hoping I could have some time to talk with Kelly before she put me on feet duties but I think she wanted to talk with her friends before. Not that I am not important, but I can wait later. I want to proper congratulate her for her diploma. Talk to her about the future of her career, jobs opportunities, would she go to master’s degree?

All of these have to wait, cause toes have to be licked. I crawl under them, to lick under them, she loves it. She helps me and flips me on my back and places all her toes on me at the same time, one foot over the other. I am trapped under all her toes and I love it, I stick my little tiny tongue out and let it go everywhere. I lick her toes for the next hour, my tongue is aching a bit. She knows. She will give me a break soon. 

“Done!” she says. Then she pulls the chair and stands up, walks to the bathroom. I am left under the desk in her room and I just stand up to walk out from under it. When she returns, she picks me up and places me on her bedtable, I don’t know what time it is but she changed to her pyjamas and we’re going have a bedtalk, I love bedtalks. I get to finally tell her how proud I am. She smiles, so beautiful. 

Ah…We talk. Hr eyes look at me. I am honored and happy. 

“Did you like my shoes?” She finally asks after a good 30 minutes of conversation.

“Yes I did!” I say. 

“Did you like your time inside my mom’s shoes?” she asks. 

“Yes, but you know how much I prefer to be with you.” I say. She nods. 

“Mom and I had a deal.” She says. She explains. I just nod, I don’t care, I am just happy. “Did you think about what you would like me to do for you?” she finally asks. The boiling plate, the big subject. 

“Yes I did, but I am a bit shy about it.” I say. 

“Oh come on, let me know!” She suddenly looks excited. 

“Bah, it’s …. I don’t know… Kelly, I had this weird awkward idea and I still have some thinking to do…you know.” I say. 

“Mrs. Allen, you can ask me anything!” She blurts out.

“Anything?”

“Yup!”

The bedtable lamp flickers a bit. There is a door slam in the house, maybe her mother or father. A small gust of wind from the opened window, a crow outside caws a bit. All the little signs of superstitious nonsense are up. I hesitate. I finally muster the courage, even if I know I should just shut up. Something is compelling me to share what I have thought about and I just…mutter it out. Her facial expression changes.

Uh oh.

“You want me to do what?” Kelly is surprised, not in a good way. Maybe I should not have talked about this. “Are you out of your mind?” she adds. She frowns, she looks offended. I feel like crap, I feel ashamed and stupid. I knew I should not have asked for such a thing. She said she wanted to do something special for me, but I guess I came up with something way off limit. “What the fuck Mrs. Allen? Did I hit you too hard? Did I crush the common sense out of you? Come on, you can’t be serious. I can’t believe what you just asked of me. I know you’ve done a lot and all, but I can’t do this. I am sorry. You’re disgusting. Eww…just to think of it makes me sick.” I have never seen her that mad. She plucks me with her fingers, grabbing me uncaringly. She gets out of bed. I am flying while she holds me. This is very unusual, she is not as careful and delicate as she uses to be. She drops me inside her Asics sneakers. I stumble on the insole, the familiar smell surrounding me. “I think you need time alone to think about what you just asked me. Maybe you should think about being sorry too, this deserves and apology.” She says. From the opening of the shoe I see her reach down. She picked up an old sock. She balls it up and threatens to stuff it in the shoe over me. “I am very disappointed Mrs. Allen. You disgust me.” She says. Then she tilts the shoe so I slide down the toe section and she stuffs her balled sock inside the shoe to seal me in. She doesn’t just place the sock inside, she pushes it deep, making sure I am trapped. She then leaves me there, sealed inside, stuck with her foot smell. 

What have I done? Oh God…what have I done?

Goodness. I sit down and grab my chest. My little tiny heart hurts. I’ve never seen her this mad, and it’s my fault. Now she thinks I am disgusting. What have I done? I ruined our relationship, that’s what I have done. She will never see me the same way now. This hurts so much. How could I have been so stupid? Why didn’t I just shut up? I think this is it, this is what is going to kill me, rejection. It hurts. I hold my chest, my two hands where my heart is and I cry, in fetal position, inside her smelly sneaker. My tears are absorbed by the insole, they mix up with the dried foot sweat. A young lady out there is offended and disgusted, an old lady is crying in here. Yes, old people can cry too. I deserve her anger, I deserve this rejection, I am foot pet, an inshoe plaything, how in the world I ended up being out of my god damned mind to think I could ever be anything else? I just wanted to live something different before dying, like she offered. But my idea was bad, horrible. 

I should have shut up, oh hell I should have. 

Of all the scenarios I thought I’d never wish to happen, rejection like this is the worse. I love Kelly so much, I’d give her everything, hell I gave her my money and my life. She’s right, she deserves an apology. I am so sorry Kelly, please forgive me, please crush me to death, trample me inside your shoes until I die, I don’t want anything to change between us. I already miss your smile. I already miss you, oh God, what have I done?