Between a wrinkle and a worn place
"No, this can't be happening", looking at the giant toes zooming in on him, Billy was hysterical at this point.
He was completely caked into the insole of the slipper and was held in place by a layer of sweat so thick and stale, it probably took several good months or even years for his mother to accomplish. Knowing he had very little time, if at all, he tried moving any part of his body, but to no avail. "Come on!!!", he yelled in pain and desperation as he knew any kind of movement, even the tiniest one, was his only chance of salvation beneath his mom's gigantic, meaty feet. He continued fighting with whatever little strengh he had, when he suddenly felt a ginormous weight starting to rest on his lower body, and in one, swift motion - a mass like no other pushed his tiny body even further into the damp insole without any mercy or care, plastering him into the warm surface of the slipper with force akin to a steamroller. Billy wasn't dumb - he knew exactly what was happening all around him, as he continued sobbing uncontrollably. Then everything went black.
Enjoying her morning coffee, Patricia decided it was time to put her chilly feet back into her comfy little slippers. Not even giving it a second thought, she inserted her right foot into its slipper with ease. Raising her left foot into the air, she did the same, her toes lifting the cieling of the slipper upwards to allow the sole of her foot to glide into the slipper with ease and comfort. However, something was odd. When she inserted her foot all of the way, Patricia could've swore her foot felt different. She tried figuring things out while druming her toes from left to right and back again. Something was tickling the ball of her foot. It was tiny, almost indistinguishable - but her foot, being as sensitive as it is, she could clearly feel it. "Must be the insole coming loose, not surprising...", she said to herself. After all, she had those slippers for quite some time now. If she was being honest with herself, knowing the toll her feet took on these old dogs, she expected it to happen much sooner.
Now, most people, feeling this, would plan on throwing these shoes into the trash and buying new slippers as soon as possible. Unfortunately for Billy, Patricia wasn't one of those people. Passing the ball of her foot over the small annoyance was becoming somewhat hypnotic for her. The small tickles and tiny massages passing waves of pleasure through the older woman, almost brought her to the verge of an orgasmic delight.
Knowing how wrinkly the sole of her foot was, she decided to glide it from side to side, rubbing the tiny tear into each and every one of the deep sweaty crevices that made up the ocean of fleshy wrinkles that was the ball of her foot. If she only knew the hell she was causing with such a small part of her body...
Billy laid there, entombed by a living cieling of damp, stinking skin. He sobbed quietly, his tears absorbing into the mammoth sole above him. He never imagined being this close to his giantess of a mother, and every so often he would find himself locked in a passionate kiss with the flesh above him. He ratched in response to the salty, grimy feel against his tiny lips.
Time seemed to be held in place. But Billy knew this wasn't true, as he could feel every small movement the giant woman decided upon. It's as if the gigantic foot had a life of its own - he could feel every little blood vessel pumping, every tiny movement caused by her muscles and tendons, every crevice and orifice of flesh stretching out and collapsing in as he was possibly felt and mapped out completely. For Billy, it was the definition of hell, and he prayed to whatever god that listened that his mother would understand something is wrong, and set him free.
But that never came. Instead, he could feel the giant toes drumming back and forth, as if in celebration of finally retaking their fluffy homes, and himself in the process. The sole above his insignificant form crushed and danced all around him, shifting between grinding his lower legs and arms into the insole below and mashing his face and tiny nose into each and every wrinkle that greeted him. He swore he could've heard his mother stifling a giggle or two - and the thought that he was nothing more than a tickle or tiny sensation for his unknown captor made him sob even more. He was never going to get found.
He was completely caked into the insole of the slipper and was held in place by a layer of sweat so thick and stale, it probably took several good months or even years for his mother to accomplish. Knowing he had very little time, if at all, he tried moving any part of his body, but to no avail. "Come on!!!", he yelled in pain and desperation as he knew any kind of movement, even the tiniest one, was his only chance of salvation beneath his mom's gigantic, meaty feet. He continued fighting with whatever little strengh he had, when he suddenly felt a ginormous weight starting to rest on his lower body, and in one, swift motion - a mass like no other pushed his tiny body even further into the damp insole without any mercy or care, plastering him into the warm surface of the slipper with force akin to a steamroller. Billy wasn't dumb - he knew exactly what was happening all around him, as he continued sobbing uncontrollably. Then everything went black.
Enjoying her morning coffee, Patricia decided it was time to put her chilly feet back into her comfy little slippers. Not even giving it a second thought, she inserted her right foot into its slipper with ease. Raising her left foot into the air, she did the same, her toes lifting the cieling of the slipper upwards to allow the sole of her foot to glide into the slipper with ease and comfort. However, something was odd. When she inserted her foot all of the way, Patricia could've swore her foot felt different. She tried figuring things out while druming her toes from left to right and back again. Something was tickling the ball of her foot. It was tiny, almost indistinguishable - but her foot, being as sensitive as it is, she could clearly feel it. "Must be the insole coming loose, not surprising...", she said to herself. After all, she had those slippers for quite some time now. If she was being honest with herself, knowing the toll her feet took on these old dogs, she expected it to happen much sooner.
Now, most people, feeling this, would plan on throwing these shoes into the trash and buying new slippers as soon as possible. Unfortunately for Billy, Patricia wasn't one of those people. Passing the ball of her foot over the small annoyance was becoming somewhat hypnotic for her. The small tickles and tiny massages passing waves of pleasure through the older woman, almost brought her to the verge of an orgasmic delight.
Knowing how wrinkly the sole of her foot was, she decided to glide it from side to side, rubbing the tiny tear into each and every one of the deep sweaty crevices that made up the ocean of fleshy wrinkles that was the ball of her foot. If she only knew the hell she was causing with such a small part of her body...
Billy laid there, entombed by a living cieling of damp, stinking skin. He sobbed quietly, his tears absorbing into the mammoth sole above him. He never imagined being this close to his giantess of a mother, and every so often he would find himself locked in a passionate kiss with the flesh above him. He ratched in response to the salty, grimy feel against his tiny lips.
Time seemed to be held in place. But Billy knew this wasn't true, as he could feel every small movement the giant woman decided upon. It's as if the gigantic foot had a life of its own - he could feel every little blood vessel pumping, every tiny movement caused by her muscles and tendons, every crevice and orifice of flesh stretching out and collapsing in as he was possibly felt and mapped out completely. For Billy, it was the definition of hell, and he prayed to whatever god that listened that his mother would understand something is wrong, and set him free.
But that never came. Instead, he could feel the giant toes drumming back and forth, as if in celebration of finally retaking their fluffy homes, and himself in the process. The sole above his insignificant form crushed and danced all around him, shifting between grinding his lower legs and arms into the insole below and mashing his face and tiny nose into each and every wrinkle that greeted him. He swore he could've heard his mother stifling a giggle or two - and the thought that he was nothing more than a tickle or tiny sensation for his unknown captor made him sob even more. He was never going to get found.
246 views
·
June 10, 2023
Sign in to comment