The peppery essence of a day spent in stockings still clung to her skin, even imprinted a fabric texture in her nude flesh. Every choked breath stung. Coughing, I went limp just as I felt Grace begin walking. Her stride wasn’t as much of a power-strut as her athletic elder daughter’s, which at least offered the slight benefit of her leg descending slowly enough that I wasn’t immediately pancaked by the downward-slant of her foot in its angled slot. Unfortunately, the difference was made up by the weight of Grace’s foot not just concentrating on the high heel’s insole, but into the toe section as well, where I bore the brunt of her feminine mass. As she walked, a rhythm developed where, once airborne, that colossal foot would tend upward by a hair, creating space below her dangled arch. During these moments, I would begin to slide under the curve of Grace’s toes, face-planting into her oily toe-pads. Upon standing on solid ground again, though, the giantess’s weight would transfer right back into the heel’s slope, and all of it would come crashing back onto her chosen slave, threatening to pop me out over the tops of her nailbeds.
“Funny thing…”
Hearing that voice, distinctly Grace’s though distant and blurry, at first I thought I was hallucinating a ghostly memory of her at regular height, until I realized she in fact was speaking to me, from so high above and through the filter of her shoe. The mad shuffle of Grace’s burly digits created a lot of chaotic noise, and the fact that they were being continually pumped into my face and chest like humongous flesh-and-muscle pistons made it tough to concentrate, but I did my best to keep my tiny ears open.
“…I believe I remember saying this punishment would end when and only when you finished the job you were already given but failed to complete the first time?” Grace rhetorically asked aloud, her voice as sugar-sweet as I remembered from before all this craziness. “I just find it puzzling that you’ve been down there for five minutes already, and I still haven’t felt a single kiss. Not even a peck, though of course a peck will not be enough. So unless you’ve suddenly decided you enjoy being crammed into the front of my heels after a long day out, David, don’t you think it might be wise to pucker up and get to kissing, before I really have to get nasty?”
Unable to imagine just how much worse her version of “nasty” could be, I followed her order and took my second stab at pleasing Grace enough to avoid harsher punishment. Even with my lips together, it required several drunken thrusts before my face smacked into a pillowy toe, now even greasier than before thanks to some added time in the claustrophobic shoe. Despite my exhaustion and lack of dexterity in the smelly, anarchic blackness, I started applying heavy kisses to whatever parts of Grace’s foot I could get my lips on. It was grueling, but under threat of an even worse fate, I hammered the giant matriarch’s toes with hard smooches on every other step.
“That’s enough there. Move along, now,” Grace boomed in time.
I couldn’t guess what she meant, until her mighty gait came to a halt, leaving those toes at a standstill against my abused two-inch body. Then, with barely a wiggle, Grace’s big toe nudged me further down the line, until I was stretched across the remaining three toes instead. Like clockwork, she resumed pacing, perhaps tidying the house, getting a little constitutional, or simply walking for the hell of it, purely because it meant I’d be trapped at the eye of a sole-pounding storm while being forced to kiss her toes. In fact, that option was most likely.
“See, you’re making progress already,” Grace said. Her voice sounded closer now, like she’d hunched over, just to ensure her shoe-passenger got the message loud and clear. “Keep it up and you’ll be out of there in no time. Well… let’s not be dramatic. You’ll be out of there before the sun goes down, how about that? Yes, that’s a more realistic goal, especially since I made you oh-so small. I’m sure you could’ve handled this in half the time at four inches instead, if only you’d listened to me and done the one and only job you have now. But, we can’t change the past, can we? Get to it!”
Grace’s three “smallest” toes couldn’t wallop me quite like her big toe, but with three of them now flicking and grinding against my body instead of two, it was even harder to avoid their writhing and lean in for a kiss. Every time I’d blindly lunge to cup my head against another toejam-flecked flank of toe flesh, one of its counterparts would punch me in the gut, flattening my paltry self into the wall again. Over time I became aware of an involuntary whimper singing from my throat, largely drowned out by the sound of Grace’s toes swishing and sliding against one another in a constant bid to get at me, the rubbery crevices gradually turning softer and slicker as her ardent motion produced a fresh coat of reeking perspiration. My lips were dry as sand now, but still I fought for the right to be let out of here eventually, violently yet passionately kissing every curve and every toeprint ring of her increasingly grimy digits while being manhandled by those very same toes.
Miraculously, after God-knows how much longer, Grace stopped walking on me. Though she remained in place for another agonizing minute, eventually I felt her weight shifting away, and I realized the giantess had taken a seat again. Abruptly her monstrous foot, and the high heel along with it, launched skyward before coming to another screeching stop. Centrifugal force caused me to bonk my head against the slanted roof of the shoe, before slapping face-first into her cuticles. With the pressure finally off as Grace crossed one elegant leg over the other, I was free to slide to the top, less by my own will and more because the woman angled her foot just to feel me inching along. Again her voice resonated deeply, suggesting her mouth was close by outside the imprisoning leather walls:
“This is more like it, David. Finally! Sometimes it’s like pulling teeth with you, I swear, but you manage to show you’re worth keeping around in the end. See, if you’d just been a good slave, and kissed your owner’s feet like the loyal foot-boy I know is in there somewhere, this might have been much simpler than you forced me to make it,” Grace said with a lilting chuckle, then sighed. “Although… now that you’ve been a lazy little ass a couple times this week, and made me do this to you to teach you a lesson, it has given me some nice perspective. Yes, it feels good to kick off my shoes after a long day of wearing them, but… I realized I just love feeling you stuck in there so much, it makes it worth the discomfort for me. A small price to pay on my part for knowing what you’re going through down there. Oh, I can’t even imagine how awful it must make you feel to be trapped down there, my toes beating on you, where each step might be your last if I march too hard, but… that’s just the way it goes, I suppose.”