Son Underfoot
My name is Phil Tiny
chapter 15
by
copier
· original author:
vinnyloo
“Oh, for here, definitely... ”she responded with a giggle.
Phil heard his mom’s muffled response high above, past the crushing heel on top of him, which continuously pressed him flat.. He was gaining a new understanding of terms such as ‘flattened’, ‘trampled’, ‘stomped’, and ‘crushed’. It was overwhelming - overpowering. His mom’s giant heel was too much to take, but he had to take it anyway.
“Okay, we’ll have your order ready in a few minutes,” Phil heard the distant reply of the person at the register.
“All right,” responded Phil’s mother’s muffled voice. The weight of his mother’s foot lifted up for a moment, and he gasped for air as he saw her heel lift up above the rim of the shoe. He again saw Becky’s giant grinning smirk from the world outside. He could see as she silently laughed at him, right before his mother’s foot slammed back down onto the hard floor, impacting him, flattening him, and then mashing him down hard. Before he knew it, the same thing repeated, although this time he was more dazed, as he saw his sister’s grinning face and then SLAM! MASH! His body was becoming so mashed that he could barely feel it. Becky’s grin grew with every step his mother took, and with every step his view of it was blurrier and more disoriented.
His mother and sister walked to the table they would sit at, and finally sat down. It was a welcome relief to the tiny boy, who was now so horribly dazed that he fought to remember exactly how he got where he was. The heel suddenly lifted up, higher than before, but it was still menacingly poised above him.
His mother curiously peered down into her shoe at him.
“Mmm, maybe that was a little rough...” she said after examining him from above, with a sudden expression of concern. That expression was so familiar to him - in his disoriented state he tried to raise his tiny, mashed arms up toward his mother’s pretty face, up above her propped up heel. His left arm wouldn’t make it all the way without falling back down, but his right arm weakly reached up toward her huge face. Her expression changed to one of slight surprise, and then amusement.
“No, sweetie, just stinky feet for you,” she quietly sang down to her flattened little boy, reaching for her help. She then smirked slightly, biting her bottom lip and running her fingers through her hair, while bouncing her giant foot above him, tauntingly.
“Hungry?” she then sang down. Phil couldn’t reply, he just stared back up at his giant mother’s now smiling face. He was hungry, he guessed, but what did it matter if she wasn’t going to let him out? Was she going to drop a french fry down into her shoe with him or something?
The shoe then leaned forward, as she raised her entire foot up. “Well if you are, sweetie, you can just lick the toejam from between my toes,” she smiled, sweetly. She was attempting to make him fall down, further into the shoe, where the ball of her foot and toes were pressing against the sole. Phil wouldn’t fall.
“Oh, stuck?” she giggled. “Maybe I really was too rough on you...” she smiled. She then looked up, out into the restaurant, as she reached down and her finger pried him free from the insole of the shoe. Phil saw that he had left an imprint of himself, as he rolled down the slope of the insole and stopped at the ball of his mother’s foot. It smelled so strong, and his mom’s foot suddenly lifted up and came back over top of him - he found himself overtaken by her giant toes, which manipulated his body until he was face up. Then they readily gripped him by the head, and quickly dragged him with them to the end of the shoe. All light was cut out, he was struggling for air, squeezed horribly by the smelly toes, and he could hear his mother and sister’s muffled laughter up above.
His mother and sister obviously thought of his predicament as simple ‘punishment’, and from both their giggles, he could tell they were enjoying putting him through it. No one else in the restaurant knew that his mother had him at her feet. It must of been funny from their perspective.
But to him, this experience was frightening in a sense they couldn’t comprehend - his mom had always warned him about hiding in peoples shoes, and now he was being played with, in her shoe, by her own smelly toes! Neither his playful mother who was crushing him now, nor his enormous mocking big sister really understood how much their ‘fun’ was really putting him through. He couldn’t move, and they were in charge, and his mom’s giant wiggling toes were squeezing and rubbing all around on his head and face, making him miserable. Just great.
Soon Becky and her mother’s food was delivered, and they happily ate while discussing what tiny Phil would go through, when they got home. Phil’s body was mercilessly ground in between and under his mother’s smelly toes, and the ball of her foot. It took them a long time to finish eating - longer than Phil could last. After a long bout of battling with his mother’s toes, an exhausted, beaten Phil finally passed out...
Phil heard his mom’s muffled response high above, past the crushing heel on top of him, which continuously pressed him flat.. He was gaining a new understanding of terms such as ‘flattened’, ‘trampled’, ‘stomped’, and ‘crushed’. It was overwhelming - overpowering. His mom’s giant heel was too much to take, but he had to take it anyway.
“Okay, we’ll have your order ready in a few minutes,” Phil heard the distant reply of the person at the register.
“All right,” responded Phil’s mother’s muffled voice. The weight of his mother’s foot lifted up for a moment, and he gasped for air as he saw her heel lift up above the rim of the shoe. He again saw Becky’s giant grinning smirk from the world outside. He could see as she silently laughed at him, right before his mother’s foot slammed back down onto the hard floor, impacting him, flattening him, and then mashing him down hard. Before he knew it, the same thing repeated, although this time he was more dazed, as he saw his sister’s grinning face and then SLAM! MASH! His body was becoming so mashed that he could barely feel it. Becky’s grin grew with every step his mother took, and with every step his view of it was blurrier and more disoriented.
His mother and sister walked to the table they would sit at, and finally sat down. It was a welcome relief to the tiny boy, who was now so horribly dazed that he fought to remember exactly how he got where he was. The heel suddenly lifted up, higher than before, but it was still menacingly poised above him.
His mother curiously peered down into her shoe at him.
“Mmm, maybe that was a little rough...” she said after examining him from above, with a sudden expression of concern. That expression was so familiar to him - in his disoriented state he tried to raise his tiny, mashed arms up toward his mother’s pretty face, up above her propped up heel. His left arm wouldn’t make it all the way without falling back down, but his right arm weakly reached up toward her huge face. Her expression changed to one of slight surprise, and then amusement.
“No, sweetie, just stinky feet for you,” she quietly sang down to her flattened little boy, reaching for her help. She then smirked slightly, biting her bottom lip and running her fingers through her hair, while bouncing her giant foot above him, tauntingly.
“Hungry?” she then sang down. Phil couldn’t reply, he just stared back up at his giant mother’s now smiling face. He was hungry, he guessed, but what did it matter if she wasn’t going to let him out? Was she going to drop a french fry down into her shoe with him or something?
The shoe then leaned forward, as she raised her entire foot up. “Well if you are, sweetie, you can just lick the toejam from between my toes,” she smiled, sweetly. She was attempting to make him fall down, further into the shoe, where the ball of her foot and toes were pressing against the sole. Phil wouldn’t fall.
“Oh, stuck?” she giggled. “Maybe I really was too rough on you...” she smiled. She then looked up, out into the restaurant, as she reached down and her finger pried him free from the insole of the shoe. Phil saw that he had left an imprint of himself, as he rolled down the slope of the insole and stopped at the ball of his mother’s foot. It smelled so strong, and his mom’s foot suddenly lifted up and came back over top of him - he found himself overtaken by her giant toes, which manipulated his body until he was face up. Then they readily gripped him by the head, and quickly dragged him with them to the end of the shoe. All light was cut out, he was struggling for air, squeezed horribly by the smelly toes, and he could hear his mother and sister’s muffled laughter up above.
His mother and sister obviously thought of his predicament as simple ‘punishment’, and from both their giggles, he could tell they were enjoying putting him through it. No one else in the restaurant knew that his mother had him at her feet. It must of been funny from their perspective.
But to him, this experience was frightening in a sense they couldn’t comprehend - his mom had always warned him about hiding in peoples shoes, and now he was being played with, in her shoe, by her own smelly toes! Neither his playful mother who was crushing him now, nor his enormous mocking big sister really understood how much their ‘fun’ was really putting him through. He couldn’t move, and they were in charge, and his mom’s giant wiggling toes were squeezing and rubbing all around on his head and face, making him miserable. Just great.
Soon Becky and her mother’s food was delivered, and they happily ate while discussing what tiny Phil would go through, when they got home. Phil’s body was mercilessly ground in between and under his mother’s smelly toes, and the ball of her foot. It took them a long time to finish eating - longer than Phil could last. After a long bout of battling with his mother’s toes, an exhausted, beaten Phil finally passed out...
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March 24, 2025
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