Finally Home, But Still Underfoot
My name is Phil Tiny
chapter 16
by
copier
· original author:
vinnyloo
Phil finally came to. The haziness of being unconscious faded, but he found himself in a predicament, as a giant foot was already...
SLAM! MASH!
A huge sole came down on him, and then lifted again. He found the surface he was on was strangely forgiving to the it pressure put on him, as it gave a lot, causing the giant weight that had came from above not to crush him as bad as before. Where was he? He began to look around, but then he felt himself descending...
SLAM! MASH!
The surface he was on hit the floor, the giant sole came down on him again, mashing him down flat. Whatever he was on took some of the pressure, but it was still a flattening blow. The foot rose up off of him again, and he realized this time that the surface he was on was rising with it.
He struggled with his tired arms and legs to move - maybe he could roll out from under the horrible sole that was descending on him already. He found that his arms were not only worn out, but there were several loops of... string or thread, holding his arms flat against the surface he was on. He was sewn to whatever he was lying on! His legs and upper body were all held fast by the same loops. Then he felt himself descending, and ...
SLAM! MASH!
The sole came down on him, and he suddenly noted the smell of the air around him... it smelled just like the terrifically strong scent of his mother’s feet. He was sure of it, and as the sole raised back up, he noted the shape of the foot, and tried to see her face or what clothes she was wearing just to be sure. He couldn’t see more any of her for her giant foot, but he could see the scenery of the inside of his house going by. He was home, but the foot was already descending for the next big stomp...
SLAM! MASH! - this time didn’t come back up off of him. It just stayed there, and little Phil had to endure the flattening pressure, and struggle to get whatever confined, stinky air there was with him under the pressure of the foot.
“Becky, I told you to clean up this room,” he heard his mother’s muffled voice from directly above. He had been right, it was her who was stomping him all along.
“I’m about to, Mom...” he heard Becky’s muffled voiced reply, from a distance. From what he saw of the scenery of the house, he knew that his mother was standing in the doorway to Becky’s room. The flattening pressure of his mother’s foot was getting too him - he began to struggle, although he knew it was useless.
“Oh!” he heard his mother say, and suddenly all the weight lifted off of him, relieving him from all that horrible pressure. He looked up to see his mother’s smiling face, peering down at him from the top of her mountainously tall body. “Are you finally awake, sweetie? You’ve slept about an hour of your punishment away, it’s already after two o’ clock!” she commented.
Only two o’ clock? He remembered that his mother had picked him up early from school. They had all kinds of time to punish him, before he had to go back the next day.
His mother then grinned and squatted down, closer to him. “Like my handiwork?” she giggled, and then ran her large fingers across the tiny boy’s arms and body, feeling every stitch of thread holding him down “These are my favorite slippers too, and they’re nice and soft so we won’t crush you,” she continued. He recognized these slippers now - they were his mom’s favorite pair - the pink and fluffy ones.
She then stood up, and resumed her typical smile. It almost looked conquering, as Phil watched her slowly raise her foot up, and lower it down again, onto his tiny body. She wiggled her toes around on him for a moment, and he coughed at the smell, which made her giggle from above.
“Are they that stinky?” she snickered, as she grabbed his head between her second and third toes, squeezing his face between them. Phil began to cry as he looked up at his mother’s smiling face. This was too humiliating.
Her foot slid forward, blocking his view, and all light. The smell was strong all over her foot, and as she got her foot to the end of the slipper, she started rhythmically putting pressure on the tiny boy, as a way of teasing him.
“Becky, get your room cleaned up,” her now muffled voice called.
“OK, Mom,” Becky’s distant voice answered, and he heard a thump on the floor as Becky got up.
The giant sole above him rose up again, as his mother began walking back down the hallway.
SLAM! MASH!
SLAM! MASH!
SLAM! MASH!
His mother started making her way around the house, sometimes stopping and standing on him for a while she was busy, sometimes constantly on the move. It was crushing to the tiny boy, and it went on for over an hour. Finally, the crushing and mashing came to a stop, as his mother sat down on the couch, kicked off her slippers, and turned on the TV. She glanced down at her tired little boy and smiled.
“More than you bargained for, sweetie?” she grinned.
Yes it was, he’d had enough. He was hungry, and worn out, crushed and tired. He wanted free, and nodded ‘yes’ to his giant mother, above. His mother didn’t respond to him - she just looked up, leaving him there, and started watching TV.
Soon, Becky came and sat down beside her mother. She peered down at her little brother, sewn to the slipper, and laughed at him.
“Hey twerp, guess what?” she grinned. “Your favorite little cousin, Mandy, is coming over later. Won’t that be fun?” she laughed. Mandy was not his favorite little cousin - she was his least favorite. At 8 years old, she was extremely smart and cute, but she would torture the poor little boy. “I wanna see you lick her toes clean, little bro’” Becky cruelly laughed.
“And guess what else,” Becky continued, with a laugh...
SLAM! MASH!
A huge sole came down on him, and then lifted again. He found the surface he was on was strangely forgiving to the it pressure put on him, as it gave a lot, causing the giant weight that had came from above not to crush him as bad as before. Where was he? He began to look around, but then he felt himself descending...
SLAM! MASH!
The surface he was on hit the floor, the giant sole came down on him again, mashing him down flat. Whatever he was on took some of the pressure, but it was still a flattening blow. The foot rose up off of him again, and he realized this time that the surface he was on was rising with it.
He struggled with his tired arms and legs to move - maybe he could roll out from under the horrible sole that was descending on him already. He found that his arms were not only worn out, but there were several loops of... string or thread, holding his arms flat against the surface he was on. He was sewn to whatever he was lying on! His legs and upper body were all held fast by the same loops. Then he felt himself descending, and ...
SLAM! MASH!
The sole came down on him, and he suddenly noted the smell of the air around him... it smelled just like the terrifically strong scent of his mother’s feet. He was sure of it, and as the sole raised back up, he noted the shape of the foot, and tried to see her face or what clothes she was wearing just to be sure. He couldn’t see more any of her for her giant foot, but he could see the scenery of the inside of his house going by. He was home, but the foot was already descending for the next big stomp...
SLAM! MASH! - this time didn’t come back up off of him. It just stayed there, and little Phil had to endure the flattening pressure, and struggle to get whatever confined, stinky air there was with him under the pressure of the foot.
“Becky, I told you to clean up this room,” he heard his mother’s muffled voice from directly above. He had been right, it was her who was stomping him all along.
“I’m about to, Mom...” he heard Becky’s muffled voiced reply, from a distance. From what he saw of the scenery of the house, he knew that his mother was standing in the doorway to Becky’s room. The flattening pressure of his mother’s foot was getting too him - he began to struggle, although he knew it was useless.
“Oh!” he heard his mother say, and suddenly all the weight lifted off of him, relieving him from all that horrible pressure. He looked up to see his mother’s smiling face, peering down at him from the top of her mountainously tall body. “Are you finally awake, sweetie? You’ve slept about an hour of your punishment away, it’s already after two o’ clock!” she commented.
Only two o’ clock? He remembered that his mother had picked him up early from school. They had all kinds of time to punish him, before he had to go back the next day.
His mother then grinned and squatted down, closer to him. “Like my handiwork?” she giggled, and then ran her large fingers across the tiny boy’s arms and body, feeling every stitch of thread holding him down “These are my favorite slippers too, and they’re nice and soft so we won’t crush you,” she continued. He recognized these slippers now - they were his mom’s favorite pair - the pink and fluffy ones.
She then stood up, and resumed her typical smile. It almost looked conquering, as Phil watched her slowly raise her foot up, and lower it down again, onto his tiny body. She wiggled her toes around on him for a moment, and he coughed at the smell, which made her giggle from above.
“Are they that stinky?” she snickered, as she grabbed his head between her second and third toes, squeezing his face between them. Phil began to cry as he looked up at his mother’s smiling face. This was too humiliating.
Her foot slid forward, blocking his view, and all light. The smell was strong all over her foot, and as she got her foot to the end of the slipper, she started rhythmically putting pressure on the tiny boy, as a way of teasing him.
“Becky, get your room cleaned up,” her now muffled voice called.
“OK, Mom,” Becky’s distant voice answered, and he heard a thump on the floor as Becky got up.
The giant sole above him rose up again, as his mother began walking back down the hallway.
SLAM! MASH!
SLAM! MASH!
SLAM! MASH!
His mother started making her way around the house, sometimes stopping and standing on him for a while she was busy, sometimes constantly on the move. It was crushing to the tiny boy, and it went on for over an hour. Finally, the crushing and mashing came to a stop, as his mother sat down on the couch, kicked off her slippers, and turned on the TV. She glanced down at her tired little boy and smiled.
“More than you bargained for, sweetie?” she grinned.
Yes it was, he’d had enough. He was hungry, and worn out, crushed and tired. He wanted free, and nodded ‘yes’ to his giant mother, above. His mother didn’t respond to him - she just looked up, leaving him there, and started watching TV.
Soon, Becky came and sat down beside her mother. She peered down at her little brother, sewn to the slipper, and laughed at him.
“Hey twerp, guess what?” she grinned. “Your favorite little cousin, Mandy, is coming over later. Won’t that be fun?” she laughed. Mandy was not his favorite little cousin - she was his least favorite. At 8 years old, she was extremely smart and cute, but she would torture the poor little boy. “I wanna see you lick her toes clean, little bro’” Becky cruelly laughed.
“And guess what else,” Becky continued, with a laugh...
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March 24, 2025
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