Coming to your senses, you're relieved to find that Axmont's rancid foot had left his boot, but that didn't mean you were free from his boot quite yet. Light poured in illuminating the tattered insole around you, but the smell hadn't dissipated, not even close. Usually you would use this as an opportunity to fly away, but you found your wings were weighed down by sweat, and even if you were able to dry them, they seem to have been permanently damaged by his foot; chances are you wouldn't be able to fly again. That bastard...

You start walking across the cursed insole, trying to get a better look at the entrance and hopefully find your ticket to freedom. Each step you took caused the ground underneath you to squish with a disgusting squelch. That's when it hit you, the intense dehydration. Turns out climaxing at least twenty times before blacking out for who knows how long would drain your hydration pretty severely. You look around for any source of water, but it wasn't looking good. That's when you got an idea, but it didn't sound very appetizing, in fact it was maybe the worst thing you could think of, but you didn't have any other choice. Pushing aside your embarrassment for the sake of your survival, you drop to your knees, put your hands on the ground and lean down... 

You wish it didn't work, but it did. You start sucking on the insole, drinking up the sweat that had collected underfoot for years. You recoil at the taste, it's salty and earthy, and makes you want to vomit. In fact you almost do, but survival instincts have kicked in at this point. Aged cheddar pales in comparison to the flavor currently invading your mouth, but you keep going. If climaxing on his foot was rock bottom, sucking the sweat from his boot was somehow below that, you were truly less then a speck. Less then a bug. His cruel nickname rang in your ears all over again, and you felt tears falling down your face.

You had lost everything, your freedom, your dignity, your sanity, all of it was gone because of this sick bastard. He had gone far beyond what he needed to do for some magic, punishing you for desiring your freedom, and torturing you for his own sick perversions. You wept, alone, surrounded by sweat and dirt, and nothing but the warm insole to comfort you. You were broken.

"Ya know I can hear you crying right? It sounds pretty pathetic."

Oh good, just what you wanted to hear. You didn't know how long he had been in the room, or even what room you were in. You hadn't made it to the entrance of the boot to look around before you broke down. It didn't really matter though, the light coming through the boot had been replaced by the image of him crouching down looking into the boot. His face. His stupid fucking face. He was smirking. How much worse could this guy get.

"If this is how you react on day one, maybe I should just smush you and get it over with. Maybe you weren't cut out for this."

You weren't. You weren't cut out for this. That's why you had tried to escape in the first place. What part of that didn't he understand? 

"Nah, but then I wouldn't get the magic I need from ya, and trust me, that magic is valuable! Just one load from ya can give me enough power to punch through brick, and you gave me twenty four loads just on the walk over! I don't know what's going on with ya but you're providing more magic then any of the other fairies I've seen before, so I gotta keep ya around, but that don't mean I gotta keep ya happy."

You shudder. 

"To tell you the truth, I don't really want to keep ya happy. Seeing ya cry like this... it's a pretty sight to see. Such a delicate creature trampled under my foot. Crying thanks to my stench, crying thanks to my strength. I gotta say I've never felt more powerful."

He leans down further and reaches into the boot. You try to avoid his fingers, but you're backed into a corner when you reach the toe section of the boot. Two digits grab you by the wings and pull you up and out of the boot. Usually you would take this as an opportunity to yell, to fight back, but you just lay there, limp, defeated. He brings you right up to his face and hot breath washes over you.

"Thank ya, bug, for making me so strong, and trust me you're gonna make me a whole lot stronger the longer I got ya."

He holds you up over his face and opens his mouth, as if he's gonna drop you in. You hang there, limp. At this point if he were to eat you it'd be a blessing, an end to the nightmare. But no, he just dangles you there, waiting.

"Beg."

The order is clear and simple, but at this point you couldn't be fucked.

"I told ya to beg. I want to hear your screams. If you're not able to do that for me... I'll make ya."